“You taste so fucking good.” Max groaned and proceeded to show her how much he liked her taste. His tongue swirled all around her pussy. He parted the labia with his fingers. He licked long strokes into her cunt. Even from where he was standing, Rye could tell his brother’s face was getting coated in her juices.

Rachel was in ecstasy. He loved the sounds she made as she moved toward orgasm. Her lovely chest was heaving. Rye could see her pink-and-brown nipples were tight and ready for some man to come along and suck them like the sweet berries they were. He wanted to be that man. He would lick her little nipples and pull them one after the other into his greedy mouth. He would suck them until she couldn’t take it anymore. He would give her just the bare edge of his teeth. He knew just how much to bite down so the little pain bloomed into pleasure. Between his mouth on her breasts and Max’s tongue fucking her pussy, Rachel wouldn’t be able hold off her orgasm. It would overwhelm her. She would come all over Max’s mouth, and then, oh, then it would be their turn. Then they would take their scrumptious lover and fill her up with their cocks.

She would be so small between them. He would press against her back and push her down onto Max’s hard cock. Max would curse because he wanted to fuck, but he’d hold off and wait for Rye. Rye would gently work the lube into the little rosette of her ass. His fingers would go first. He would marvel at how tight she was going to be, and his cock would strain. By the time he pushed into that hot little hole, he would be ready to explode.

“Rye.” His name sounded like a plea on her lips. “Ryan, come here.”

There was no question of refusing her. He moved forward, his hand on his cock. He hadn’t realized he’d been stroking himself while he watched his brother and Rachel. Max never even looked up from his place at Rachel’s pussy. He just ate her pussy like there was nothing else in the whole world.

“Yes, Rachel baby?” Rye would give her anything she wanted. His voice was husky. His hand stroked up and down his engorged cock.

“I want to taste you.”

He shuddered.

“Ryan, fuck my mouth.”

He nodded because there was no way he would deny her. He straddled her chest. The cheeks of his ass caressed her perfect breasts. Her hands came up to cup his rear, and he hissed when she lightly dug in her nails.

“You’re mine, Rye,” she said with purpose. Her eyes were intense on him. “You’re mine, and so is Max.”

“Yes,” Rye heard himself saying as he lined up his throbbing dick with her lush mouth. Her lips teased the tip. “We’re yours. We belong to you, baby. We belong together.”

She sucked him inside, and Rye knew he’d found heaven.

* * *

Rye woke up with a start. He looked down at the sheets and cursed profusely.

“This is fucking insane,” he bitched as he wiped his cum-covered hand across the sheet. He would have to wash it again. It was the third time this week he’d ruined the sheets on his bed. He’d had more wet dreams since Max had come home from the hospital than he’d had in all of his teen years.

Rye shook his head and headed for the little bathroom down the hall. There still wasn’t any hot water, but he didn’t need it. He needed a fuckload of cold water. He might never take another hot shower again. He changed out of his ruined boxers into a fresh pair. He’d done three loads of his own laundry this week. Rachel was going to think he was a laundry freak. He opened the door and started down the hall to the bathroom.

“Good morning.” Rachel stood waiting for him in the hallway.

Just like that, his dick was back at full attention. She was in a tank top and a pair of Max’s boxers. They were too big and rode low on her hips, leaving a strip of perfect skin exposed. She was soft and sexy in the morning. She looked liked she’d just rolled out of bed. It was all Rye could do to not cup himself and run away. He hoped she didn’t notice his painful condition.

“I’m making breakfast for the three of us.” She had a ridiculously bright smile on her face. She lit up his world. “It’s pancakes and sausage. Max’s favorite.” She touched the middle of his chest. “Tomorrow, it’s your turn. I promise to make French toast, bacon, and grits. How does that sound?”

He clenched his jaw and forced himself to be polite. He did not, in any way, give any indication of what he truly wanted to do. He wanted to drag her back to the bed, spread her legs, and relieve the ache in his groin. Then he would be satisfied with “his turn.” “Yes, that sounds nice.”

She bounced a little. He’d noticed that about her. She was always moving. She had more energy than anyone he knew. She couldn’t stand still. She bounced, and the bouncing made her tits wiggle. Rye decided he was going to throw himself off the roof. It would be an easier death than the death by sexual frustration he was going to suffer from Rachel.

“Good.” She sounded relieved. “I don’t want to leave you out. Now, I have to go back to work today. Can you handle the beast?”

Rye snorted. “I’ve been handling him since we were born, Rachel. I think I’ll manage.”

“If he gives you any trouble, just tell me.” Rachel put one hand on her hip, and Rye loved the sassy sound of her voice. “We’ve come to an arrangement, Max and I. He behaves, and I don’t dump food on his head.”

Rye laughed, genuinely amused at the antics of his brother’s woman. The hospital had been more than happy to release Max as soon as he could physically handle leaving. He was a beast when he was sick. The nurses had been ready to sedate him a few minutes after he’d become conscious. Even Brooke had conceded that he probably deserved it. Only Rachel could placate him.

And she had taken care of him. She’d been the most patient nurse Max could have hoped for. She had followed the doctor’s orders to the letter. She made sure Max took his prescriptions and stayed in bed for the first few days. Unfortunately, even the most patient of women have their breaking point. When Max complained about the soup she made, Rachel very calmly dumped it over his head and told him to go to hell. Rye smiled just remembering the incident. Rye had eaten the soup Rachel gave him, though it had been lacking salt, and declared the meal delicious. Max, after cleaning up, had eaten a bowl himself. He then politely thanked the chef. Rye knew Rachel was discovering the trick to handling Max. Max needed firm, nonnegotiable boundaries. Once they were set, Max knew how to behave. Max had been a perfect angel ever since.

Well, he was perfect around Rachel. He was crabby around his own brother. Rye knew why. Max wasn’t used to being laid up. He was used to working hard every day for at least ten hours. Rachel was forcing him to stay off his feet, and it was killing Max. Today was the first day he was allowed to be back on a horse. Rye also suspected Max was having some of the same trouble Rye was experiencing. Rachel was worried that he was too fragile for sex. Of course, Rye thought ruefully, Max had hope of getting some. Rye was hopeless.

“I’ll make sure he takes it easy.” Rye didn’t want her to worry about Max all day. His breath caught at the way her eyes gleamed in the early morning light. He would be able to handle the close contact with her if it was all just lust. The trouble was he was falling more and more in love with her every day.

She looked wistful. “I wish I could stay, but Stella really needs me. I’ve been off for almost a week, and Jen is getting really tired of pulling doubles. I think she’s looking forward to just working the dinner shift. Stella promised she’d bring in another girl soon.”

“Why do you have to go back to work at all?” He hated the thought of her being on her feet for ten hours. He loved that diner, but the women there worked damn hard. He’d seen how tired Rachel could be after a shift. “You have to know Max would support you, sweetheart.”

He would, too. He just would be very quiet about it. He already intended to send Callie off to buy her some clothes. She barely had enough to make it through a week. Rye was planning on “finding” some old clothes Brooke had left behind and offering them to Rachel. He would have to remind himself to make sure he took the tags off first.

“I know. Trust me, I’ve heard the lecture. Would it surprise you to know that I like to have my own money? I don’t mind working. I like the diner. It’s fun to talk to everyone. I’m just not cut out to be a live-in girlfriend, Rye.” She leaned forward. “I’ve been thinking about getting a place in town. Jen says she has an extra room, and Stefan told me his guesthouse is free.”

Rye felt his body go rigid. He had a sudden and extreme need to beat the shit out of his closest friend. Rye knew what Stef kept in the guesthouse. Stef kept his playroom in the guesthouse. It was where he kept his submissives. If Stefan thought for one second he could take Rachel in and begin training her, he would have to think again.

“I’ll have a conversation with Stefan about that,” Rye heard himself say. It came out more threatening than he’d intended. He consciously softened his stance and his voice. “I think you should stay here, Rachel.”

Her green eyes were guileless. “I will for as long as Max needs me. Then I think I should get my own place. I know this has been rough on you. The last thing you need is your brother’s girl hanging around all the time.”

“Rachel, I love having you here.” He did. He just wished they were together.

She turned, and he caught sight of her perky little ass encased in cotton boxers. It made his mouth water. “I think you love having me cook,” she said with a shrug. “See you at breakfast.”