Page 3 of One Bride for Three Single Dads

Sometimes I could swap out one of the other guys for the fantasy, but really, Ambrose is the first one that I met and so he is usually the first one that I would fantasize about too. So, let’s do this!

I haven’t had anything more lively than my battery-powered rabbit in my panties for almost a year. I am so supercharged with hormones right now, I think I might come just standing here this close to him.

“Should we maybe…” I coo, drumming my fingertips against the palm of his hand, shifting our bearing into a direction that is definitely pointing more toward the grown-up bedroom hallway.

“Should we,” he repeats, with just a bit of a tease.

I have heard that tone in his voice before, and I am now almost certain that this has been one long buildup. I am almost sure that he knows I have wanted him since the first moment. And he has been winding me up this whole time.

His nostrils flare as he inhales deeply, and we begin the quick journey across the game room toward the place that I really want to be. I feel his eyes drift over me and arch my back just a little bit so that my tits are high and bouncy with every step. There is no turning back now. The growls in his throat get louder and louder.

My chest tightens as I realize that we have definitely crossed the threshold. Just a few minutes ago, he would not have been staring at me quite like this. I would not have his fingers knotted against my fingers. I would not have this sopping sponge of wetness in my panties.

But that is all different now…

“Fuck, yeah,” Ambrose growls, pivoting suddenly to sweep me up in his arms before we even make it to the hallway.

His hands are everywhere, sliding under my shirt, pinching gentle bits of my skin like he is selecting a roast at the market.

I am helpless to get away. My legs have turned to jelly.

“Yeah, Ambrose,” I moan as he bites my earlobe, tugging it with enough force that it hurts, but just a little bit.

Just that little sear of pain opens up another door of hormones, and I am flooded, flooded,flooded.

I don’t even realize that we are still walking until we get to the first door. And I know it is a door because he pushes me against it, kissing me even harder, holding my arms over my head and pulling me off my feet.

I want this. I want it so very much.

Some tiny little voice in the back of my head reminds me that, hold on, I can’t afford to lose this job. This might be a really terrible idea. This might be the thing that puts me back on Emily’s couch for another month of job-hunting and all the humiliations that come along with that.

But you know what, I’m just going to drown that little voice in this next flood of hormones. That is a much better plan.

“How much time do we have left?” he asks me urgently, pulling away from the hickey I am pretty sure that he just left in the middle of my throat.

“Twenty minutes?” I guess breathlessly.

“That’s not nearly enough time,” he groans.

“Totally agree!” I blurt out, letting a little bit of frustration creep into my voice. “So let’s not wait! How about you get me into your bed right about now?”

“Ooooh,” he snarls, freeing one hand so he can pinch my left nipple into a tight little pebble. “I like it when you are bossy, Jolene. Say something else like that.”

“Stop talking and let’s do it!” I answer back, bold and a little bit desperate.

“Yes, ma’am,” he groans, grasping me under my knees and pinning my calves behind his hips. “You are about to get the fuck of your—”

Our hearts both skip the same beat.

Our heads both twist in the same direction.

“Hey, Boone!” Harrison calls out as he crosses the kitchen, some ten yards away from where Ambrose and I are currently intertwined in the hallway.

“You don’t have to shout,” Boone answers as he emerges from the opposite doorway, pulling his work shirt off like a slow-motion supermodel.

“Shit,” Ambrose says under his breath.

We are both thinking it: run away? Let the door fall open behind me and just hope nobody notices?

---