Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Jen was having a hard time finding her breath as they took her. She could feel them thrusting in and out, faster than before. She could hear them whispering encouragement and swearing with restraint, but everything else faded into the background as the two men claimed her.
Her men.
Declan moaned. “You’re so fucking tight, Jen. I can’t get enough.”
“Don’t hold back, Declan,” Trick demanded hotly. “She likes it rough. She can take us. She can take both of us.”
When Declan took the challenge she lost her ability to think. To breathe. All she could do was take what he gave and cling to them both as the world spun off its axis and flung her into space.
“Never.” He kept repeating it with every thrust, his hips pounding against her, jarring her body down onto Trick’s shaft with every thrust. “Never get enough. So good, I’ll never get enough.”
“So good, Jen,” Trick echoed. “Perfect.”
She could feel it coming. Another wave so big it would swallow her whole. Wash away everything she was and leave nothing but bones. “Declan, Trick, I’m… Oh God.”
“Jen!” His shout joined hers as they came together. It was too much. She’d thought what they did in the library was the sexiest thing she’d experienced. This was more.
Mine, he’d said earlier.
Did she have to turn in her lady card for loving the sound of that?
Was she a fool to hope he meant it?
She was lying there panting, her cheeks damp with tears she didn’t remember shedding, her head on Trick’s shoulder and Declan leaving kisses along her spine. Her body was trembling, shuddering with aftershocks, and she couldn’t remember ever feeling more complete. More vulnerable. Alive. Was this normal? Trick had said “emotionally intense” but this? How did someone handle this? What would Tasha do?
Scratch that. Tasha was shameless.
And what are you?
Trick sighed. “We have a big problem.”
“We do?”
“We do,” he said, amusement and wonder in his voice. “There may not be enough condoms in your basket to make it through this night.”
She gasped and laughed breathlessly as he made his cock pulse inside her. She might not have to worry about what came after this, she thought, swallowing hard. It was very possible she wouldn’t make it through the night.
Chapter Eight
“Natasha Rivera Finn.” Jen glared over the vegetables she was chopping for the salad. “You promised.”
“I know I did. And I haven’t told my husband, his brothers or anyone who has the name Finn on their birth certificates. But I had to tell Jeremy. We tell him everything and he’s always kept your secrets.”
“Yes.” Jeremy leaned against the kitchen island and made a face. “I remember the last one Owen found out about. I couldn’t sit for days. Good times.”
Tasha reached out to pat his arm. “That’s the price you pay to be a co-captain of the Little Finn fan club. Jen, you know we support you and we’d never do anything to hurt you. If you want to date Trick, that’s your business.”
At least there was that. Tasha hadn’t been able to keep their recent conversation entirely to herself, but she’d only shared a half-truth. As far as Jeremy and Ken knew, Jennifer was in a secret relationship with Stephen’s friend, Trick Dunham. Tasha had managed to keep Declan a secret.
Jen hadn’t wanted to put anyone in that position. She shouldn’t have told her what had happened between her, Trick and Declan—that they’d finally gotten together—but Tasha had called and worn her down.
Now there were three people in her mother’s kitchen staring at her with equal parts concern and surprise. Three people in love with Finn men—men who had ways of making them talk. Jen highly doubted Ken and Jeremy would look as calm as they did if they knew she wasn’t just sleeping with one inappropriate man, but two.
She shouldn’t have come tonight. Should have said she was studying for exams and stayed away from her inquisitive, well-intentioned family, but her mother wasn’t willing to hear that excuse again. She’d specifically asked for her help in talking some sense into Owen. Thanks to her last debacle of an engagement, Jen had experience with the difficulties of renting party halls and hiring caterers and entertainment. Ellen Finn was getting worried that all of Owen’s last-minute changes were going to ruin the celebration she and Jeremy were hoping for. So Jen had come. Alone.
She missed her men already.
“Talk to us, Little Finn,” Tasha begged. “Jeremy, she’s not talking and she’s slaughtering those innocent vegetables.”
Jen shook her head and lifted the knife, gesturing to the quiet man standing beside them. “I’m not mad, Tasha. And I know Jeremy always kept my secrets. But what about him?”
“Me?”
“Ken?” Tasha sounded surprised. “Ken is one of us. He’s been in the lifestyle longer than I have. He’s taught classes on respecting the privacy policy at the club. You remember him from your first night there, don’t you? He doesn’t go around telling other people’s secrets.”