Page 41 of A Season Of Sin

I can think about this later.

Shaking my head, I make it to the spare room. The bed is made, and there’s a picture of the three of us on the nightstand. I smile at the wholesome touch, no doubt put there by Gracie.

Stripping out of my clothes, I don’t bother showering at this hour. That will surely wake them. I can bathe in the morning after snow blowing the driveway since another storm front is supposed to roll through in a few hours.

Setting my bag on the floor at the end of the bed, I shuck off the rest of my clothes and slip under the soft covers.

Staring up at the ceiling, I thread my fingers behind my head, and a small smile tugs at the corner of my lips.

Tomorrow, I get to see them again.

Touch them.

Kiss them.

Talk to them.

Cuddle.

Giddy anticipation bubbles in my chest as I yawn.

Only a few more hours.

Damn.

I can hardly wait.

Eleven

Standing in Wolf’s open doorway, we stare at him like a pair of creepy creepers in our pajamas.

“Should we wake him?” Jace whispers, staring longingly at the very naked, very tattooed biker in bed. He’s on his back, one leg bent, the blankets kicked down to his feet. His soft cock is enormous as it rests against the neatly trimmed thatch of curly black and gray hair. An arm is thrown over his face to blot out the sun shining through the only window in the room.

I shake my head in response to Jace’s need to wake our guest when I’m just relieved he’s home. He must’ve gotten in sometime last night.

Resting his temple against the doorframe, Jace sighs wistfully. “He looks so…”

“Sexy?” I fill in for my husband, who nods like a bobblehead doll, damn near drooling at the sight of the handsome biker. I must say, he looks far more innocent and sweet when he’s asleep. Any other time, the man puts the “N” in “naughty.”

“I think we should… wake him.” Jace waggles his brows, his words dripping with innuendo.

He wants to suck Wolf’s cock.

Not that I can blame him. It is a pretty cock.

It also looks lonely over there without someone to warm it.

Hmmm.

I mean… We wouldn’t want his poor dick to be sad and lonely, would we? I don’t think so. What kind of hosts would we be if we allowed that? Not very good ones.

Swatting Jace’s ass, I whisper, “Go get ‘em, tiger,” and nod toward our guest.

Like a kid on Christmas morning, he dashes to the bed and carefully leans over the edge to suck Wolf into his mouth without jostling him awake. The moment Jace inhales him whole, Wolf groans, grips the back of Jace’s head, and thrusts. My poor husband sputters and chokes as his mouth is fucked.

On a grin, I suppress a giggle.

I know I shouldn’t, but it’s good for Jace to understand what it’s like to gag on a cock. He does it to me often enough. It’s only fair he gets a taste of his own medicine.