Unflinching, I swallowed deep and hard. Every single delicious drop.
"That was hot," Chelsea remarked.
"Hell yeah it was," Frost agreed. He smiled at me softly.
Yeah, he was definitely growing on me. I was here for it.
Chapter Four
Chelsea
"I thinkwe need to reconsider that mansion," Frost said, rising to his feet. "It's going to be difficult if we're all spread out like we are right now."
"You just want to live in a mansion," I teased him lightly.
He grinned. "Yes, I do, but I also want to keep you safe. That'll be much easier behind big ass gates. Living in separate apartments, it's gonna keep getting harder. And for once, I'm not talking about my dick."
"Thatwouldbe a change." Storm returned to the kitchen, to get back to making enough burgers and salad for all of us. "I was starting to think you don't talk about anything else."
Frost stepped over to the kitchen to help him with dinner. "I think you're projecting. You're the one who thinks about my dick all the time."
"Keep telling yourself that," Storm said with a snort. "We all know it's you thinking about mine."
Frost held his hands up to either side, a vegetable peeler in his fingers. "I never denied that. I think about it almost as much as I think about Chelsea's pussy. Sometimes, it's a miracle I have any brain capacity left to think about anything else."
"You said it," Jay teased gently. He stepped over to help Frost with the vegetables.
"I only say what everyone else is thinking," Frost said. "I don't care if Storm believes I have a one track mind. It helped to lighten the mood." He gave Jay a wink.
"It's hard not to be in a heavy mood," Jay said. His face was down, looking towards carrots he sliced with perfect precision. They looked like something out of a restaurant or an episode ofMasterChef.
"Jay." Atlas looked frustrated.
Jay looked up and glanced around at us. "Sorry, didn't mean to be a bummer."
"You can be a bummer as much as you want," Frost said. "We don't mind. Come to think of it, we're kinda used to it." He looked around slyly.
"If you're about to say it’s because I'm a bummer…" Storm growled. He waved a spatula in Frost's direction like he might punish the other player with it.
Frost didn't stop grinning. He’d probably enjoy being spanked with the kitchen implement.
I'd happily watch. Who was I kidding? I'd even more happily take part. Maybe after we were finished eating.
"If the hat fits." Atlas smirked in Storm's direction before snagging up a piece of carrot and biting into one end.
"Fuck off," Storm said in the general direction of both guys. He shook his head and turned back to cooking the burgers. For once, he wasn't genuinely angry. If anything, he looked like he enjoyed stirring them and being stirred in return.
"It's like having a house full of brothers," Dallas remarked. He sat on the floor beside me, his head resting on my thigh. "They give each other shit, but they don't really hate each other." After a moment he added, "At least, I don't think they do. Ihaven't had to tell them to chill out for a while. I call that progress."
I ran the side of one finger up and down his hair. "That's exactly what it's like. Brothers growing closer, while giving each other shit as often as they can."
As the season went on, they became closer and closer. When I first met them, Storm, Atlas and Jay hated each other. Storm and Atlas in particular, would have punched each other long before they come up with anything nice to say about each other.
Now, they'd struck up a friendship of sorts. Some kind of understanding between them that mostly kept the peace.
"It's about time," Ramsey said. He sat on an armchair, gazing in the direction of the window. He looked like he wasn't paying attention, but he heard every word. "I've been telling them for ages to get along with each other. It's taken all of this for that to happen."
He was one of the younger of the guys, but sometimes it seemed like he'd taken on the burden of being their keeper. Like somehow he was responsible for them and their safety and well-being. Presumably because of his role as a go-between, between the Brantley family and us. Or maybe he felt more mature than the rest of them. Age was just a number, after all.
