Page 49 of Bossing My Holiday
“It would be all of us together, and there might be times when it’s just one of us.”
I pull her hair back and trickle a trail of kisses up her neck to her ear. “Don’t overthink this. Just go with it. See if you like it. If you don’t, that’s fine too.”
“But I think you will...” Tristan trails off and kisses her lips as I continue to kiss her neck.
This is happening. Fucking finally.
15
BRAXTON
“How long until we reach Smithfield?” Waverly asks, her voice breathless as Tristan’s hand drags across her thigh over her skirt and mine up her tits, where I squeeze her through her sweater.
“Thirty-five minutes in this traffic,” he murmurs.
“I’ve thought about this,” she admits, her voice barely audible above the hum of the engine. “With both of you. I mean, it was more of a joke, but still, I thought about it.”
I touch her cheek, turning her face toward mine. Her skin is warm and slightly flushed. “We can stop anytime,” I tell her, searching her eyes for any hesitation.
“I know.” She wets her lips. “I don’t want to stop.”
That’s all the permission we need.
“We’re going to touch you then,” I tell her.
She nods, and Tristan’s smile becomes predatory.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, and I watch a shiver run through her.
I kiss her, gently at first, then with growing hunger as she responds. Her lips are soft, tasting faintly of coffee and strawberry jam. Tristan watches for a moment, his hand still on herknee, then he moves in to kiss her neck, just below her ear. She makes a small sound against my mouth, something between a gasp and a moan.
Tristan’s hand slides higher, pushing the hem of her skirt up slightly.
I pull back just enough to watch her face as Tristan continues to kiss along her neck and down to her collarbone. Her eyes are half-closed, lips parted. So fucking beautiful I can hardly take it.
My hand moves to the buttons of her sweater, undoing the top one.
“May I?” I ask, and when she nods, I undo another. Not enough to expose her, just enough to give us access to more skin.
I run my fingers through her hair, watching as Tristan presses his lips to the newly exposed skin at the base of her throat. My other hand finds her waist, feeling the warmth of her through the thin material of her sweater.
“The windows,” she says suddenly, glancing out at the passing city.
“Tinted,” I assure her. “No one can see in.”
“We’d never risk you,” Tristan promises. “We share, but we don’t share what’s ours with others.”
She relaxes again, turning her face to kiss me once more. This time, there’s more urgency, her tongue teasing mine. Tristan’s hand has moved higher on her thigh, disappearing beneath her skirt. I can feel her breath quickening against my lips.
“Tell us if anything’s too much,” I say, breaking the kiss to look into her eyes.
She nods, then gasps as Tristan’s fingers trace the edge of her underwear. “Not too much,” she manages. “Not enough.”
Tristan chuckles, a low sound that I feel more than hear. “Greedy,” he chastises, but his tone is approving. He shifts,turning her back slightly toward me so he can better access her body. His hand cups her breast, thumb circling where her nipple must be, judging by the way her breath hitches.
I run my hand along her side, up to where Tristan is touching her, our fingers briefly entangling before I move to her other breast. She arches slightly into our touch, her hands gripping the leather seat on either side of her.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I murmur, watching the flush spread across her cheeks and down her neck.
