Voila. Two dicks in my face. If my knee hadn’t cracked exceptionally hard on the floor and broken the skin wide open, I probably would have found myself with a different problem. Or at least a way to take the edge off.
Alas, once again. Cockblocked. This time by my own freaking clumsiness. I’ve never been clumsy. I could only blame Fate for having a shitty sense of humor. The guys picked me up and ever so sweetly washed my wound and pressed cute little kisses on my knee. They’re getting in the habit of patching me up.
I wanted to grab their ears and pull their heads up a little higher. I have something else that needs kissing. But they danced out of my grasp and moseyed on over to the shower. Leaving me throbbing in more places than just my knee.
I might spontaneously combust if I don’t get off soon.
When I walk back towards the kitchen with a stupid smile on my face, I spy Earl. Huge, quiet, and very, very naked. Yum.
I stop and study him for a moment. He’s the one I’ve seen naked the least. He’s sitting on the kitchen stool, drying his hair with a towel. There are big puckered scars all up and down his back, and I wish I knew why. I reach out and touch them running a finger down one particularly vicious looking one.
His hand snakes out and wraps around my wrist.
“You will always have a choice with us, Ronnie. We would never force you to be our mate. We’ve survived this long. We could do it again. But don’t fuck with us if you aren’t into it. We’ve waited our whole lives for a mate. This matters to us.” He’s a breath away from admonishing me, but all I can see are his lips. I want to kiss him more than anything else in the world and I am just horny enough to try it.
Without thinking, I swoop down and catch his bottom lip between my teeth and slant my mouth across his. He growls into my mouth and pulls me down to straddle him, his dominance is both infuriating and exciting and I push back, rocking my hips against him and reveling in the length I feel hardening under me. Moaning into his mouth, I reach up to tweak his fish hook pierced nipple and he slaps my ass and bites my lip.
“Don’t push me, Ronnie.” He grits out tightly. I hear the warning in his voice but I ignore it because when it comes to these men, my brain stops working. I can’t help myself. All I want to do is be around them and have them touching me.
It’s like my brain has been taken over by a very sexually adventurous person. I don’t know her, and she’s going to get me in a shit ton of trouble if she has her way. And I’m tempted to let her take control. I want trouble. I want him. I want them. I want it all.
He pushes me away roughly, and I stumble, dismounting awkwardly. I’m pretty sure I’m pouting at his sudden rejection.
Looking down at his impressive erection. I kiss my two fingers before bringing my hand down to touch the tip of his cock and running my finger in a swirl around the head, making him groan. Good. Take that, you ass!
I sashay myself out of the room feeling lightheaded and leaving a lot of heavy breathing and a grumbling man in my wake. Earl confuses the hell out of me, but at least I now know that he wants me too.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: DARREN
THE MORE WE GET TO know Ronnie, the more I know Fate has given us someone special. She’s the kind of woman we’ve been waiting and preparing for as long as I can remember. Checking over my shoulder, I walk with Bryan, Trevor, and Earl towards the door at the very back of the building.
When we restored this warehouse and turned it into our Clubhouse/living space, we took our time and made a point to create each bedroom in our own style.
Trevor’s is quirky with bright colors and a sandy floor whereas mine leans toward the minimalist. Bryan favors ocean blues and greys, and Earl? Earl is all about the hyper-masculine dark wood and navy accents.
As the years went by, we often wondered what our Mate would be like. We wondered what she would prefer, or how she would change the house. It’s hard to prepare for someone you’ve never met before.
When we arrive at the door, I look back down the hallway a second time.
“Where is she?” I ask Bryan, fishing my key out of my pocket.
“She's asleep. I double-checked.”
Perfect.
I unlock the room and we all step inside. It's a bit dusty, but the furnishings are all so very familiar.
We started building this room when we first formed our pod. Over the years, we've added to it. Given how many years our pod has been without a mate, we've given it a lot of time and work.
"I still don't know that she's the one," Earl grumbles, but he's the first one to enter, pulling the dust cover off the chaise lounge.
He knows.
We all know.
Even Glenda knows.
Ronnie is ours.
She’s the one that was meant for us.
She just needs to realize it.
I feel a sense of pride in this, our Mate's room. It has bits and pieces of each of us represented in the decor. Bryan and I built the bed ourselves using hand-fitted interlocking pieces of driftwood to form an intricate bed frame. Trevor used his love of sand to make a life size Zen garden by the window seat. Earl painstakingly painted the mural on a dresser, and we found and created a display of sea shells that we hoped
