Chapter 6

AFTER THE guys make it home, I’m able to get a few hours of sleep. But when the sun rises, so do I.

I settle into my usual morning spot—a small table in the sunroom, overlooking the front yard—and pull up an article Rhett sent me last night.

The house is quiet. Elliot took Wren back up to bed after he showered, and he won’t wake until around ten. As for Rhett, he disappeared to one of his usual hiding places, probably to brood. I don’t think he quite knows what to do with the effect Wren is having on him—on all of us.

As if my thoughts conjure her, she steps into the sunroom. She’s still only dressed in Elliot’s T-shirt, with her hair pulled into a messy bun on the top of her head.

“Morning, princess.” I sip my coffee before smiling at her, setting my phone down. The article can wait—it’s boring, anyway. “Hungry?”

She nods, stretching her arms up over her head with a yawn. Just as I thought, she’s not wearing anything underneath that shirt. Probably because I’m an ass and hid her panties from her last night.

What can I say? I was hoping for a moment like this.

She realizes I’m watching her and drops her arms with a blush.

“C’mere.” I uncross my legs and pat on my lap. When she straddles me, planting a happy kiss on my lips, I have to stifle a groan.

“Thank you for comforting me last night,” she whispers, rewarding me with another kiss. Then her head drops. “I’m kinda embarrassed now. But the dark—I swear, the older I get, the more I’m scared of it.”

“We all have our worst fears, Wren.” I run a hand down her back.

“What’s yours?” She tilts her head just like she did last night when I had her in my arms on the piano bench.

I pause. Sure, there’s the usual shit—spiders, bugs, heights, etc. But nothing—and I mean nothing—compares to the physical pain in my chest whenever I realize I could lose one of the people I care about the most.

It feels strangely intimate to tell that to Wren, but I do anyway. I did have my dick buried in her last night, after all.

She listens to me, nodding, and we fall into silence while we watch each other. She missed some of her hair when she put it up, and the strands fall to the sides of her head, framing her face. It makes her look like an angel in the morning sunlight.

After a moment, she swallows. Then she blurts, “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you—do you do this often?”

I grin. “Spend my mornings with beautiful women on my lap? Unfortunately, no.”

She rolls her eyes. “That’s not what I mean. Do you guys . . . take women home often?”

Ah.

“We’ve all brought our fair share of people home separately.”

She bites her lip, and I wait for her to ask what she really wants to know. “But never . . . together?”

I chuckle. “No. You’re the first. And from the looks of things, the last.” I watch her closely as her eyes fill with relief and then unease.

Fuck. That probably didn’t come out right.

“Not like that, princess.” I palm her back in long up-and-down strokes. “I don’t think we’ll ever be able to top last night with someone else. And I think the guys agree.”

I mean it. I really, truly do. The three of us have been together in one way or another since high school. And we’ve never shared a woman together. Never wanted to—until Wren.

Her eyes go wide as she blushes again. I kiss the embarrassment right out of her until she’s panting when I pull away. Knowing I put that light in her eyes makes my heart swell with pride. But there’s a hint of nervousness as well.

Which, if I’m being reasonable, is understandable. I basically told her that she’s so fucking special to us that no woman could ever have the same kind of chokehold that she has on us.

Well, that’s sort of what I said.

Regardless, it’s a lot for the poor woman to take in.

My stomach growls, and she giggles. “You haven’t eaten breakfast yet?”

I give her a devious smile. “Oh, I’m about to.”

She perks up. “What are you gonna have?”

“Something I’ve been wanting to taste for a long time but haven’t been able to.”

Her eyebrows knit together as she gives me an odd look. “Uh, okay? What’s that?”

Goddamn. She really is as oblivious as Elliot. “You, princess.”

Her mouth falls open in a shocked smile as I lift her onto the table in front of me, careful not to spill my coffee. I hand it to her, and she takes a sip as I spread her legs and get a good look at her. She’s fucking perfect.

Holding her legs, I dive in like a man starved. And, when it comes to her, I kinda am. Finally, I get to taste her. She lets out a squeak, and I hear my coffee mug clang on the table.

“Oh god, Oliver.” One of her hands fists my hair, and I welcome the pain as I eat her out.

I go gentle on her clit, figuring it’s still sensitive from all the attention it got last night. When I delve inside her with my tongue, she rocks her hips into my face. I nip at her skin lightly, and she gasps.

“Hold still, please. I’m trying to enjoy my breakfast.”

She giggles, and the sound lights up my goddamned soul. I trace my tongue in a circle around her clit a few times.

“Oliver, please—why—ohhhh.” She shudders when I finally suck it into my mouth.

I relish in the satisfaction of being able to take away her ability to form full sentences, just like Elliot did last night. I tease her with the tip of my tongue, going too lightly, and she lets out a frustrated noise.

“Do you want to come, princess?” I slide a single finger inside of her.

She’s panting desperately, but she still raises an eyebrow at me with a sassy look on her face. “What do you think?”

I do everything in my power to stop my grin from taking over, but I fail miserably. “You better wipe that attitude right off that pretty face of yours. Only good girls get to come in this house.”

She scoffs playfully. “Oh, so you’re the type of man who leaves a meal unfinished? How wasteful of you.”

“Only when the meal talks back.”

She rolls her eyes. But when I pull my finger out of her, she gasps. “No! No, I’ll be good.”

I shrug, grabbing my coffee and taking a sip.

“Oliver! Please. I promise I’ll be good.”

“And how will you do that, princess?”

“I—I’ll do whatever you want. Please just make me come, Oliver.”

With a chuckle, I slide my finger back inside. Her head falls back when I curl it against her. “Anything?”

“Yes.” Her voice is hoarse from being made to wait.

“Well, that’s good. Because I have a few things in mind. First off, tell me something you’ve always wanted to do in bed but haven’t yet.”

She straightens, her eyes big. Then shyness takes over, and she looks away. But when my finger begins to slowly inch out of her, she gives in. “I’ve always wanted to try—uh . . . words.” Her eyes squeeze shut.

“Words?” I curl my finger into her again, watching her writhe. “It sounds like this would be a good time for you to use some, princess.”

She makes a flustered sound that I have to stop myself from laughing at. Then, finally, she spits it out. “Degradation!” She winces. “But nothing too mean.”

I reward her with another finger sliding into her. She’s too in her head to give me examples. My mind goes over last night, at how she reacted to what we said to her—specifically any type of praise.

“Tell me, princess, do you want us to call you our pretty little slut?”

Her eyes darken, and she nods. I reward her by sucking her clit until her legs are shaking.

“Our own personal fucktoy?”

“Y-yes. Please.”

I add a third finger, finding her sensitive spot and hitting it over and over again. I want to keep exploring her likes and finding her boundaries, but this isn’t the time. I don’t want to push her and accidentally ruin the moment by triggering her.

So I lick her clit and say, “Good girl,” watching her eyes roll into the back of her head. And then I work her until she comes so hard that she can’t help but scream my name.

“Damn, princess. You might’ve woken Elliot with that one.”

“Oh, no!” She claps a hand over her mouth, and I’m surprised by the genuine concern on her face.

Is it possible that she cares about us as much as we care about her?

I squeeze her thigh. “Probably not. The man could sleep through the end of the world.”

She relaxes, and her hand drops to the table.

My mind snags on an idea. “Don’t you have something to say?”

“Huh?” She looks at me with confusion as she closes her shaking legs.

I lean back in my chair, leveling her with an even gaze. “I just made you come so hard you screamed the whole house down. I think a ‘thank you’ is in order.”

She bites her lip as she realizes what I’m doing. “Thank you, Oliver.”

“I believe I deserve some type of payment.”

She nods with big, innocent eyes that I can’t help but think aren’t as innocent as they look. “Whatever you’d like.”

I slide my pants and boxers down my legs. “Ride me. Show me how grateful you are for your orgasm.”

She lets out a breath as she scrambles from the table and straddles me. I help her line me up with her entrance, and then she sinks onto my cock with a moan.

She grabs onto my shoulders, her fingers digging into my shirt.

“Are you sore?” My hands rest on her hips, ready to pull her off of me at the slightest sign of pain.

She wiggles her ass, settling. “Not really. I think I just need a second to adjust.” She takes a deep breath, tilting her head back, and I feel her relax around me.

I plant a kiss on her neck as she works her way up and down, rolling her hips to grind against me. Her deathgrip on my shoulders loosens.

“Is it okay if I go slow at first?”

I nod, leaning back so I can get a better view of her. “Take off his shirt. Right now, you’re mine. All mine.”

She obeys, tossing the shirt to the floor. With a smirk of satisfaction, I take in her body as she picks up the pace slightly. Her breaths are shaky, and I can’t help but move my hips to match her movements.

The feeling rips a moan from my throat, and she smiles.

“Do you like pleasing me, princess?”

She nods, her smile growing. She picks up her pace more, and I match it. This time she moans, and her eyes slide shut.

Fuck. I don’t know how we’re supposed to let her go. What if she wants to leave after breakfast?

Then you’ll take her home.

“Oliver, I—” Her head drops to my shoulders, trying to keep up with my thrusts. “Fuck,” she whispers.

When did I take control? I can’t pinpoint the exact moment.

Her whole body goes rigid, and she cries out into my shoulder. I can feel her clenching around me as she comes.

I slam into her once more before finishing inside of her. She shudders, her lips finding mine. Then she collapses against my heaving chest as she tries to catch her breath.

“That was quite the show.”

Wren jumps at Rhett’s voice, straightening. I have to turn to see him, but he’s directly in her line of sight.

With a laugh, he steps forward and kisses her. “You actually didn’t see me, did you?”

Her face turns beet red. “I—well, I was pretty distracted.” When her gaze focuses on the erection straining in his pants, she looks up at him. “Do you . . .”

But he shakes his head. “The sound of you coming undone is all I need right now. Well, that, and—” Rhett grabs my hand, sucking the three fingers that were inside of her moments ago. His tongue runs over each of them until every trace of her is gone.

When he releases me, I grin at the way Wren’s mouth is hanging open slightly. She lets out a small squeak when Rhett kisses her again, saying, “See how good you taste? No wonder we can’t get enough of you.”

“Jesus Christ,” she whispers.

“Nope. Just a couple demons, making sure you end up in hell with us for all of eternity.” He brushes his fingers against her cheek. “Now. Did Oliver at least feed you before he fucked you?”

“Hey! I was getting there.”

Wren giggles, turning back to give me a warm smile. “I am pretty hungry.”

He helps her put on her shirt, and when he pulls her off my lap, there isn’t an ounce of jealousy in me. Instead, my heart fills with happiness at the way Rhett lets Wren wrap her arms around his neck. He kisses her cheek with a grin.

It’s been far too long since he’s opened up to someone like this.

I just hope he doesn’t fall too hard.

DURING BREAKFAST, I can’t take my eyes off the beautiful woman sitting at our kitchen island. Everything she does is perfect, even when she’s stuttering out something that makes her feel awkward.

It makes me want to strip her back down to nothing and worship her until she begs me to stop. And based on the way Rhett can’t stop looking at her either, he feels the same way.

That’s probably what causes the words to come out of my mouth. I know how I feel, and I know how Elliot and Rhett feel as well. And I’m just not ready to let her go yet.

Still, even as I say them, I feel like I’m handing her a gun and giving her permission to shoot me.

“Stay the weekend.”

Rhett almost chokes on his orange juice. I’m grateful Wren doesn’t have anything in her mouth, because based on the look on her face, she would’ve had a similar reaction.

“All weekend?” She looks between me and Rhett with surprise.

That was the stupidest thing you’ve ever said, Oliver. She probably has plans.

“Yes.”

She blinks. Tilts her head again.

Rhett’s hand slides across the counter, taking hers. “Only if you want to, sweetheart. But if you’re doubting whether we want you here for the next two days, trust me—we do.”

Her thumb rubs across the back of his hand, and she looks between us again. “I don’t have any clothes. Or my facewash, or—”

“Perfect excuse for a shopping trip!” I grin, and Rhett throws me a look that says, Give her a chance to say no.

“A shopping trip? I can just run home.”

“How about both?”

She rolls her eyes. “I work at a coffee shop, Oliver.”

It takes a moment for the meaning behind her words to register. “No, you wouldn’t spend a thing. We’d be spoiling you.”

The corners of her lips turn up as she takes a bite of her breakfast. “I’ve never had anyone spoil me before, let alone three gorgeous men.”

“Gorgeous, huh?” I wink at her.

“You guys really don’t mind?”

I bark out a laugh. “Mind? If you say no, I’ll spend the weekend heartbroken and miserable.”

“Oliver,” Rhett snaps. This look says, I’m going to fucking strangle you.

If Wren is put off by Rhett’s harsh tone, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she just laughs. “I’ll stay. Just as long as you’ll let me leave if I decide that I want to.”

I give her a grin. “Of course, princess. And I won’t actually be heartbroken if you decide to. Promise.” Lie.

As she takes a sip of her orange juice, her legs swing from her barstool excitedly. “So, where are we going shopping?”

“Oh, I have a few ideas.”