Now please be gentle. This is an unedited excerpt. I hope you enjoy. XOXOXO!
Love and cherries,
* * * *
Curious as to what had caused his husband’s swearing, Ethan glanced at Brett. But Brett wasn’t looking his way. He was watching, his eyes wide and his cheeks red, as Athena and Brooklyn approached their booth at that rather inopportune time.
Motherfucker’s about right. Athena’s timing was impeccable. She’d made it just in time to hear Sam’s perversity out in the open. Talk about a freak flag flying. Ethan loved his husband, and he adored his dirty mind. But what would the blonde goddess in front of him think? And why the fuck did he care so much? If she couldn’t handle Sam, she sure as shit couldn’t handle him and Brett, too.
Still, Ethan held his breath, waiting to find out.
Athena surprised him. Other than the parting of those oh-so-perfect lips, she didn’t give away a thing. Her face remained smooth. Her creamy complexion didn’t alter, not even a hint of pink appeared. And by God, she smiled at him. “Hello.”
Ethan’s already explosive cock roared in his pants. He swore he could feel cum seeping from the tip. Fuck me. Her voice was downright sinful. The way air escaped her bow-shaped mouth, the breathy quality, was enough to make a man come on command. And fuck, he was all man when he was within a hundred feet of her. A damn horny one.
“Hi guys,” Brooklyn greeted.
Ethan barely heard his friend. Like a lovesick boy, he was caught up in Athena. The way she looked at him with her dynamic blue eyes, how she caught her supple bottom lip between her perfect white teeth, captivated him. And her glorious blonde hair billowing loosely in the slight breeze entranced him. His hands itched to delve through those strands, to feel what was sure to be a silken mass slip between his fingers, and his mouth yearned to sample—
“E?” Brett asked.
Caught by surprise, Ethan gasped. “What?” He shook his head. “Did I miss something?” His voice came out awkward and stilted, and he sounded far too squeaky for a grown man. An uncharacteristic blush suffused his cheeks, the burn far more embarrassing than uncomfortable. But he refused to turn away—from her.
Brett tilted his head down. He grasped Ethan’s chin and forced him to look up. “Brooklyn asked you a question.”
“She did?” Ethan inquired. He sounded dumb—even to his own ears.
Damn it, Athena was turning him into a moron. What was next? Bumbling his words and tripping over his own two feet? Hell no. He didn’t think so. He had some control—somewhere. Maybe, he hoped. He just had to find it.
While he played mental tug-of-war, Brooklyn nodded. “I asked you what you thought of Athena’s dress.”
Helplessly, Ethan lowered his gaze to Athena’s dress. He tried to be assessing, to have a clinical eye. But one look at the deep V neckline, and his mind was a lost cause. “Uh…”
Brooklyn smirked, the very air around her oozing smugness. “Doesn’t she look like an angel?”
An angel? Brooklyn was comparing Athena to an angel? Had she lost her damn mind? The woman was unadulterated sex on two smoking hot legs. Nothing could hide her appeal. Not her serene smile or her white summer dress.
Athena’s smile faded. “Leave Ethan alone, Brooklyn.” She fixed her eyes on him, and he forgot how to breathe. “She’s just messing with you. She asked if your sister had gotten here safely with Sam’s brothers.”
“Don’t stop Brooklyn,” Sam growled. “It was about to get good.”
His husband was going to have a bright red ass tonight.
“No shit.” Brett released his hold on Ethan’s chin. “I want to hear what our husband has to say.”
Scratch that, both his husbands were going to have bright red asses tonight.
“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Ella announced. But she didn’t move. Neither did her brother. They stayed in place, obviously anticipating a show. Ella's husbands, however, muttered about wanting to dance then shuffled away with promises of retribution in their eyes when she refused to go with them.
Brooklyn cleared her throat and changed the subject so abruptly that Ethan thought he might get whiplash. “Ahhh…dancing is such a pleasurable pastime. It’s so intimate, so sensual.” She sighed. “And so perfect.” Staring directly at Ethan, she batted her eyelashes. “On a night like this, dancing’s so romantic. Don’t you think?”
“Yes,” Athena answered for him. Her tone was wistful, so wistful his heart clenched, and he seriously considered asking her to follow him onto the dance floor in front of the main stage. But he didn’t. He knew better than to get that close to her. He knew better than to touch her. Keeping his distance, that was the only way to keep his heart intact and his hands to himself.
Shrugging noncommittally, Ethan said nothing.
“I think it’s very romantic.” Brett stepped away from Ethan. He turned an irresistible smile on Athena. “If only I didn’t have two left feet, sweetness.”
“Ethan can dance,” Sam piped up, throwing Ethan under the bus.
Shit. That bastard. “So can you,” Ethan returned.
Sam frowned. “But I have to work.”
Ethan glanced around pointedly. “Nice try. There’s no one here right now.”
As luck would have it, a group of people approached their booth and started calling out drink orders to Sam, who grinned at him and whispered, "You can spank me later," before getting back to work.
“Son of a bitch,” Ethan mumbled to himself.
Brett shoved Ethan’s shoulder playfully. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
Being as nonchalant as possible, Ethan scratched the side of his face with his middle finger.
“Later pretty boy.” Brett patted Ethan’s ass. “Much, much later—after you dance with Athena. And only if you’re good.”
“I’m always good.”
“We’ll see about that,” Brooklyn interjected. “I have to run and make a song request for you two.”
It was all Ethan could do to keep his groan at bay. Brooklyn had a song in mind for their dance? This was going to be all sorts of fucked up. He just knew it.
* * * *