Page 117 of Shootout Daddies
“This place is so beautiful,” she says between bites, her eyes sweeping over the pool, the beach, the sky.
“It is,” I agree quietly, though I’m not looking at the ocean. I’m looking at her.
Hunter grins, leaning closer. “You know what would make it even better?”
Her brows lift, amused. “What?”
“Me between your thighs.”
Rhett groans, tossing his sunglasses onto the lounger. “Hunter…”
“What?” Hunter spreads his hands, all wide-eyed innocence. “It’s private. No one can see us. And she looks…” His voice dips lower. “She looks incredible right now.”
Ivy laughs, tossing her head back, the sound like music. “I just came out here for the sun.”
“Exactly.” Hunter scoots closer, nudging her knees apart with a grin that’s pure sin. “Multitask.”
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t move. And when his hand trails up her thigh, slow and sure, her breath catches. The laughter fades into a softer sound, one that makes heat pool low in my gut.
I stand there, watching as Hunter lowers himself, as his mouth presses against the strings of her bikini bottom and then lower, tugging the fabric aside. She gasps, one hand flying to his hair, the other gripping the edge of the pool.
The sight pins me in place. The red of her bikini, the way her body arches against the tile as he tastes her—it’s almosttoo much. Rhett shifts beside me, muttering a curse under his breath, and I know he feels it too.
Ivy’s moans grow sharper, punctuated by little whimpers as Hunter eats her out like a starving man. He murmurs things against her skin, filthy encouragements that make her thighs tremble. She’s so responsive, so open, it’s like watching the sun rise and set all at once.
When she comes, it’s with a cry that echoes across the patio, her back bowing, toes curling against the pool water. Her head tips back, hair spilling like dark silk, her whole body shuddering with release.
Hunter lifts his head, grinning, his mouth glistening. “Told you. Perfect.”
She’s still catching her breath, half-laughing, half-weak, when Rhett and I step forward together. “Enough teasing,” Rhett mutters, hooking an arm under her.
I slip in on her other side, and between the two of us we lift her, her legs curling around Rhett’s waist instinctively. She giggles, breathless, protesting faintly but not really resisting as we carry her through the sliding doors, across the cool tile, and into the bedroom.
We lay her down on the huge bed, the white sheets swallowing her red bikini like a flag of warning. She’s flushed, glowing, still trembling from the poolside orgasm Hunter coaxed out of her, and she looks at the three of us with wide, dazed eyes.
And I think, not for the first time, that I could live my entire life chasing this—her laughter, her gasps, the way she opens for us—and never want for anything else.
The afternoon sun pours in through the balcony doors, gilding her skin, turning the villa into a cathedral.
And as we climb onto the bed beside her, hungry and reverent all at once, I know this babymoon is exactly what it was meant to be—a beginning.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Hunter
I’ve gother under me, red bikini gone. She’s lying back on the big villa bed, hair fanned wild across the sheets, lips swollen from too many kisses already.
She’s having our babies.That makes me feel… fuck, it makes me feel everything.
I slick my fingers with lube first, working her open while Landon kneels at her side, his mouth glued to hers, beard brushing her cheek.
Rhett’s right there too, stroking himself with slow, even pulls while he watches me stretch her. He’s quiet, always quiet, but his eyes burn when he sees her shiver for me.
Her hips buck, needy, greedy. “Please,” she whispers, and it’s wrecked, desperate.
I coat myself, line up, and push in slow. Fuck. She’s so tight, even after months of us pushing her limits.
Slick heat closes around me, sucking me deeper until I bottom out. Her nails claw at my back, and I grit out a groan against her neck.
