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“I know.” Colt leans against the pantry shelf, guilt sagging his shoulders. “I’m sorry. It’s like I regret every woman I was with until Blair.”
“Bullshit.” I laugh. “All that pussy? You can’t regret it.”
“Yeah,” he crosses his arms, “sometimes I do.”
“Well then, let’s just focus on the one we love. Go out there and tell Blair’s dad you’ll call Amber. You’ll kiss her ass and eat crow and try to get her to stop. And I’ll play the good boyfriend. I’ll try to calm down Blair’s dad.”
“Good luck with that.” Colt chuckles. “Blair riles him up. Her offensive lines are hilarious. He needs the ego check.”
I chuckle too, “Purple-helmeted seed spreader,” repeating one of our girl’s zingers.
That just makes us laugh.
“Shit,” Colt tosses his chin up, “is that what they look like? Our dicks? Purple helmets?”
“Nah.” On instinct, the image of his is instant. The urge and memory make me reach for his waist, pulling him near. “Yours is pink.”
“Pink?” He grins, all sexy, moving his lips toward mine. “Wanna know what color yours is?”
“Big and beige.” I tease my lips over his. “And getting bigger.”
“Is that so?” Colt taunts before his kiss.
He grabs the back of my neck, his whiskers brushing mine, his tongue searching, taking me too. It’s always been like this, magnetic the way we’re drawn together. The pull Colt has over my heart, my body. The way we ease and soothe and take each other.
“Tonight,” I demand over our kiss, “it’s your turn. I’m fucking you in the shower.”
Our moans get loud, mingling with our mouths, sealing the promise until…
“Is that so?” A deep voice snarls, and we snap our shocked stare at Blair’s dad, slamming the pantry door open, his glare ripping down us. “Does my daughter know you’re fucking him in the shower tonight?”
I stagger back from Colt. He does the same, crashing into the shelves behind him and knocking over jars and cans.
I exclaim, “Mr. Monroe, it’s?—”
It’s what? Not how it looks? Not what he obviously overheard? Not my dick hard in my shorts for Colt and Colt’s is the same? His long Johnson points proud and my way.
Fuck it.
“Blair knows,” I answer him. “She’s with us.”
“The hell she is!” His face, handsome for a man his age, any age, fumes angry and red. “You’re not using my daughter. You’re not dragging her into this! You’ll ruin her life.”
“It’s my life, Dad.” Blair’s voice sounds behind him.
He whips around, pointing at us but shouting at her in the kitchen. “You knew about this? You knew they’re gay?”
“They’re not gay,” she answers. “Though if they were, that would be beautiful, too. They’re bisexual like me. We’re together. The three of us. We love each other.”
“And his girlfriend?” Duncan asks about Ruby. “You’re lying to her?”
“She knows,” Colt answers him. “She’s my friend. Our friend. Ruby’s helping us with the public part of it.”
“Public?” He mocks. “Men like you can’t be public. You’re athletes. It’s not right. It’s not traditional. It violates all morals and ruins lives. Careers. Everything.”
“So you get to be public and proud?” Blair goes right at him. “Men like you get a pro career and a back-slapping ‘attaboy’ when you go from woman to woman, making more babies than you can raise like a true father? You know, like being there at night when we cry or packing our lunches? You know the stuff real dads do? You can abandon mother after mother and kid after kid and that’s moral? That’s tradition? That makes you a man?”
“I provided for you,” he snarls. “I provided for all my kids.”
