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“Take me, baby. Take all of me.”
And I do. I grip my hand around his hips and take him deep. He pulses into my throat. I surrender my soul to this man.
My man.
My men.
Chapter Eighteen
FINN
The pub doors are finally closed. Thank Fucking Christ. I’ve been on edge all day. I’m a girl before a Harry Styles concert, all jiggly nerves and I hate it. Tonight, I made a Moscow Mule instead of a Mudslide. Luckily for me, the woman was more interested in my chest, face, and smile, to notice, but I did. I’m distracted, and it’s all down to one woman invading my dreams. I’ve slopped beer, and poured gin instead of vodka, until James our night bartender asked if I was coming down with something.
Yeah, I am.
Georgia Presley Henry.
I tried to bluff it off with a smile, but inside I’m a fucking jigsaw.
My mind drifts to last night as it has done all fucking day.
I don’t know what voodoo shit is going down, but she’s all I think about. Her, and my brothers.
I politely turned down Mudslide instead of Moscow Mule whose name was Kristen. She’s gorgeous. Tall, blonde and beautiful. She wanted one night while she was here on business. One night. Perfect. But, I turned her down.
I turned her down.
I dig my hand through my hair. All I want is a tall Texan with black hair, a smile that melts my world. Whose affection shines through to all of us. My brothers and I have a connection with her. It’s a current that streams between us. Knox is his usual possessive self, but she loves his domination. With me, there’s open affection and laughter. We get each other on a level another woman has never reached. And Lachlan? Shit, Lachlan. I’ve never seen him like this around a woman. He’s literally fucking blooming. It’s a joy to behold. Which is why I’m headed to his place. I’m hoping he’s up. I need to talk to him without Knox going all control freak over everything. I love my brother, but Jaysus, not tonight. Tonight, it’s Lachlan and me.
Is he feeling the same way? What’s he feeling?
Lachlan’s door is slightly ajar when I bound up the stairs. I walk in and find him shirtless in jeans, hunched over the desk he made when he was sixteen. It’s all polished metal from discards. Brass, bronze, silver, and steel all married together. It gleams in the overhead light. Even when he was young, he was a genius at design.
“Hey.”
Lachlan startles and sweeps the papers he’d been working off to the side of the desk.
He twists toward me with shifty eyes. “What’s up?”
I raise my eyebrows. I know Lachlan. He’s hiding something. Lachlan and I are closer than he and Knox, who was forced to become his substitute father.
“Georgia’s asleep,” Lachlan says, nodding toward his closed bedroom door.
My heart does a strange whoosh at the thought of my angel curled up asleep. Jesus, after last night I’m barely running on fumes. The image of Georgia with all of us has me hard in record time. All day, images of her taking all of us has my poor cock aching. It was only supposed to be a taste. That’s what Knox said.
On the one hand, I guess it was—I could’ve gone all night, and I know Knox and Lachlan could’ve too. But fuck, what a taste. I had to take the edge off while on break to keep my dick from falling off, and I’m quite attached to him.
“I came to see you.” I sit beside him on the bench and, quick as a robber, grab the architectural paper he’s been drawing freehand. “What’s this, then?” I study the lines, then look closer. “Is this the top floor of this building with the four unrenovated flats?”
“Aye.” Lachlan shifts in his seat. “It’s nothing. Just fooling around, that’s all.”
He says the words a little too sharply, avoiding my eye.
I nod and spread the papers out. This is more than sitting down for a quick sketch. This is thoroughly thought out. They’re rundown. Truth be told, none of us has been arsed to do anything about them.
Until now.
And I don’t think Lachlan is looking at these as a rental investment.
