If I was in any position to think, I’d spend time mired in the reasons for this offer to share her body. Is it motivated by her own desires or because she’s worried about me and wants to know I’m surrounded by support right now? And what about her heart? I have so much to give, bubbling below the surface, waiting for the right time and the right person, but does she?
I turn to Conway, searching his expression for acceptance or rejection of Grace’s offer. Will he want this? Hesitation ripples through the room, but then Conway lifts his hat and places it on the top of my dresser and closes the door, locking it with a sharp crack that punctuates the decision for all of us.
This won’t be the first woman I’ve shared with another man, but Conway’s always been a lone ranger. I’m glad that he’s taking this opportunity while it’s offered. As much as I want to hope that Grace wants more than to share her body, none of us knows her intentions. I lift her easily and bring her legs around my waist so that I can carry her to my bed. And when she’s spread out on my comforter, hair a darkhalo, eyes brighter than the sun, I say a silent prayer that this won’t be another ending, but a beginning.
Because even in something new, there’s an opportunity for a second chance.
30
GRACE
Stay city girl, trade concrete for sky.
McCartney’s words haven’t stopped whirling around my mind since I discovered them on my screen. As I look up at the two rugged cowboys standing over me, I feel the difference between what is going to happen here and all the hollow sexual experiences I had before I came to Cooper Hill.
These men aren’t soulless skyscrapers. They’re trees rooted into the earth. Reliable and strong. Able to weather all of life’s storms and earthquakes without toppling. Their eyes aren’t focused on the present but on the future. They aren’t taking the easy way out with crypto trading, manifesting, and influencing, but giving everything they have to forge a life together.
And I want to be part of it, even if it’s only for a while.
Don’t say goodbye.
That was the hardest part of the poem to read because I can’t promise that. I have a life far away from this place where I’ve carved out a place of my own. This home, thisfamily, it’s the opposite of the sterile calm of my apartment and office. And yet, I can’t turn away.
This is wrong. Heartless in a way to make them think I can be what they need for the future they’re dreaming of. But maybe I can be what they need at this moment, while they’re waiting for the woman who has what it takes. Corbin needs this so badly. His touch was desperate, like he wanted to burrow under my skin and curl up inside me. Conway hasn’t been able to look at me fully for days. The weight of this place is bearing down on him, and I can feel the craving he has for a release of tension. And me?
I’m a little drunk on cowboy loving, care, and consideration. I’m a little desperate to be surrounded by strength and goodness and be reminded that good men do exist in this world. After so many orgasms at the hands of the men in this house, my body is antsy for more.
But the truth is, I’ve always felt like an empty bucket that’s looking to be filled. There’s a gap inside me that I haven’t found a way to seal. No matter what I do, it’s always there, aching a little like a paper cut in the ocean.
I unbutton my shirt, taking my time so they can come to their senses if they need to. Two sets of eyes watch as I part the fabric to reveal my powder blue lace bra below.
Corbin tugs his flour-dusted shirt over his head, revealing a work-honed muscled chest dusted with light brown hair that makes my mouth dry. He doesn’t have abs as such. Just a firm abdomen that’s all man. His jeans follow before Conway has even unhooked a belt buckle.
Whatever Corbin is feeling after that horrible confrontation has spurred him forward. Anger at being called out for moving on after a devastating loss. Resentment at the lack of respect and consideration from his brother-in-law. I can’t blame him for needing a release or seeking softness when it’s offered.
He’s the first to climb on the bed with me, wearing only his tight black boxer briefs that outline his thick, erect cock. I help him tug my jeans over my hips and ass, and he yanksthem down my legs, stroking upward along the outsides of my thighs when I’m bared to him.
“Jesus, Grace. You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says gruffly, fingers hooking into the edge of my panties as he looks straight into my eyes. I glance up at the sound of Conway’s belt being drawn through loops and the rustle of fabric as he removes his shirt. I should feel overwhelmed at the sight of two such big, masculine men surrounding me, but I don’t. I know they aren’t here only to take from me. They want to give.
“Take them off,” I whisper, already anticipating Corbin’s tongue on my clit and maybe his fingers inside me. Conway knee walks across the mattress until he’s on my right, while my panties are eased down my legs, and I’m spread open by Corbin’s strong hands, whimpering at the sensation and the hungry look in his eyes.
“Taste her,” Conway orders, unsnapping the front fastening of my bra. His fingers toy with my nipples as Corbin uses his thumbs to part my labia and the tip of his tongue to run slight circles around my clit.
Corbin’s mouth is warm, reverent, and he explores me with intense focus, as though every inch of me he touches is holy ground. I grip the sheets, breath hitching, body arching into the attention like I’ve been waiting for this kind of worship my whole life.
“Damn, she’s beautiful,” Conway says, as Corbin’s hands anchor my hips as he kisses lower, slow and unhurried.
Around me, the bed shifts. Conway trails his fingers down my arm, watching my face with a quiet awe that almost undoes me. Corbin’s palm rests gently on my thigh, grounding me in the moment.
“Look at her,” Conway murmurs, voice husky with appreciation. “She’s glowing.”
I let out a soft sound that’s half moan and half laugh as Corbin kisses up my inner thigh, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. He doesn’t rush. Neither of them does. There’s nofrenzy here, no performance. Just two men so attuned to what I want and need, it hurts my heart.
The men that came before weren’t like this, which made it easier for me to retreat into myself. But I can’t hold back as they both watch me and the pleasure their actions are stimulating.
Conway’s gaze is heat and promise wrapped in restraint. “Tell us what you want, Grace,” he says. “We’re yours.”
I swallow hard, my heart hammering in my chest. “I want this,” I whisper. “Both of you. Like this… don’t stop.”
