Page 48 of Bossy Mountain Daddies
"Small town," he says with a small shrug. "And I know Buck. I know how he looks at you." He takes a drink. "Same way I look at you, I imagine."
Heat rises to my cheeks. "Griff, I?—"
"Before you say anything," he interrupts gently, "I want to ask you something." He sets his glass down and looks directly into my eyes. "How do you feel about us? All of us—me, Buck, Ford."
The question hangs in the air between us. I could lie, could try to minimize what I'm feeling, but something in Griff's steady gaze tells me the truth is what he wants. What he deserves.
"I want all of you," I admit, the words coming out in a rush. "In different ways, for different reasons. And I know that's crazy, and complicated, and I have no right to?—"
"You do," he says simply.
I stop, confused. "I do what?"
"Have the right." He moves around the bar to sit on the stool next to mine, turning to face me. "Buck, Ford, and I—we've talked about this. About you."
My mouth goes dry. "You have?"
He nods, taking one of my hands in his. His palm is warm and rough against mine. "We care about you, Skye. All of us. And we agreed that whatever happens between you and any of us is your choice. No jealousy, no pressure."
I stare at him, trying to process what he's saying. "So you're okay with... with me and Buck?"
"If that's what you want, yes." His thumb traces circles on the back of my hand. "Same goes for Ford, or me, or any combination. Or none of us, if that's what you decide."
"Why?" I ask, genuinely confused by their acceptance of such an unconventional arrangement.
Griff's expression softens. "Because you need to do whatever makes you happy. We're all here for you if you want us..." He pauses, a hint of vulnerability crossing his face.
The sincerity in his voice makes my throat tight. This man—these men—are offering me something I never expected. Freedom to explore my feelings, to follow my heart wherever it leads, without fear of hurting anyone.
"I don't know what to say," I whisper.
"You don't have to say anything," he assures me. "Just know that whatever you decide is okay with all of us."
I look at him and gratitude and desire tangle in my chest. I lean forward and kiss him, pouring everything I can't articulate into the contact.
He responds immediately, his hand coming up to cup my face. The kiss is gentle, a reassurance and a promise wrapped in one.
When we part, he smiles—that smile with the dimple that makes my heart flip. "Get some rest," he says.
I nod, sliding off the stool. "Goodnight, Griff."
"Night, Skye."
I climb the stairs to my room, my mind whirling with possibilities. This whole thing is crazy and unexpected—like everything else that's happened since my car broke down in this little town. But as I open the door to my room, I realize I'm smiling. For the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.
Chapter 14
Griff
"Fuck, that feels so damn good, Griff. Don't stop." Skye's fingers tangle in my hair as I work my mouth on her pussy. The afternoon sun warms her bare skin on my back patio chaise lounge, her legs draped over my shoulders.
My cabin is remote—no neighbors, no one to see what I’m doing to Skye as she completely comes undone. I’m committed to her orgasm and then I can’t wait to fuck her. I’ve been thinking about it nonstop since the day I took her on my bike to the waterfall.
I lose myself in her taste, the soft sounds she makes, the way her hips rise to meet me. Her breath hitches and I know she’s so close. Nothing exists outside this moment—until a man's voice cuts through our private world like a knife.
"Dad? What the fuck?"
My head snaps up. My son—my estranged son—stands at the corner of the house, frozen in place, his face a mask of shock. Time seems to stop as I stare at him, hardly believing he's standing in front of me.
