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“Gonna get shreky,” Brad laughs.
“It’s always swampy when I think of you,” I mutter, burrowing my head into Brad’s neck to hide the red blush covering my cheeks.
“Gross…” Lucas mutters under his breath.
Braylen shoots him a dark look, his hand coming through the middle, and rubs my calf soothingly, “Is your love tap leaking, Angel? Like a dripping faucet.”
“Mmhmm,” I bite my bottom lip, trailing my eyes over the handsome men in front of me. Lucas glares at me some more, his eyes never leaving my face in the mirror until a car’s horn beeping has him swearing and swerving back to the right side of the road.
“Eyes on the road, Lucas. We have precious cargo tonight,” Braylen barks at his driver.
“Yes, sir.” Lucas grits out between clenched teeth.
“You live here?” I exclaim when the door to Braylen’s home swings open.
The inside is dark and cozy, with wood panel walls and a large TV that I would love to watch Bake Off on and cuddle on the leather sofa with Marco.
I walk further into the room, my heels clicking against the flooring as I take it all in. This place is enormous, and I twirl in front of the fireplace as I look at the books that surround us. There are floor-to-ceiling bookcases and big windows, that I imagine bathe the room in light during the day.
“I do.” Braylen eyes are glued to me as I move around his space, my fingers skimming over carved wooden ornaments.
Macon lets out a low whistle as he looks around the place, his eyes lock onto the beam above his head. “Is this Hickory Oak?”
“It is. How did you know?” Braylen asks.
“We own Good Wood Joiners - It’s our thing.”
“So you like wood?” I ask, skimming my eyes over the wooden beams. I can’t see any differences between the wood in the beams or the one on the floor, but Jacob and Macon like this, so I want to ask about it.
Jacob appears at my back, his veiny hand gathering strands of my hair, and slowly pulls them back over my shoulder.
“We do. Tonight, we’ll prove how interesting wood can be.” His lips skim over my ear, and I shiver because of his husky voice.
“How smooth,” Brad laughs, rolling his eyes at the others. “How about we take our sweet Cherry to the room and show her a night of unforgettable bliss?”
“Yes.” I nod my head vigorously, “That. Let’s do that.”
My thighs clench, my flower pulses surrounding the idea of taking their pollinators tonight, and I nearly cream myself on the spot at the idea.
