Page 12 of Hot Chicken (Sunday Brothers #6)

The clean pine fragrance of Webb’s soap combined with the musky salt of his skin wasn’t just hot as fuck, it was like a trip wire in my brain—a key in a lock that sent all my barriers and inhibitions crashing down.

This was safety, this was home, this was Webb.

The way Webb hardened in my hand at just that bare touch showed he felt the same.

And when his strong fingers twined through my hair and I glanced up, the look in Webb’s eyes—the open, naked hunger there—made my belly flip.

Wordlessly, I took him in my mouth, groaning as my lips stretched around him and his familiar taste hit my tongue.

Webb’s breath punched out of him on a gasp, and one of his big hands flew to the tile wall to steady himself while the other tightened painfully in my hair.

I licked and sucked him with feverish absorption while my free hand moved lower, rolling and cupping his balls, tracing his rim with wet fingers.

With no lube in this bathroom—one downside of having a curious preteen and Webb’s sister home on summer break was that we didn’t get to turn every nook and cranny of our house into a lube cubby like my brothers-in-law did—I wouldn’t go much further, but Webb let out a low moan and spread his legs in invitation anyway, willing to take whatever I’d give him, trusting that I’d make it good.

I didn’t hold back, using my tongue and fingers in the precise way I knew would take Webb apart, wanting every flick of my tongue, every press of my fingers, to send a message. I see you. I love you. I’m here, and I’m not letting go.

Webb’s big thighs trembled, his hips stuttered, he shouted my name so loud it rang in the small space, and he came down my throat with his hand still fisted in my hair like he couldn’t bear to let me go.

Before I’d caught my breath, Webb grabbed me under the armpits, dragged me to my feet, propped me against the far wall, and sank to his knees .

“Webb.” The word was half sigh, half plea, my cock already so hard it ached.

He didn’t answer with words, just held my hips in place as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along the inside of my thighs, and his beard rasped gently against my skin.

When he tongued the crease of my thigh, my breath hitched.

When he licked a hot, wet stripe up my cock, I gasped, arching back against the cool tile.

If Webb’s kisses made me feel like his sole focus, the way he made love to me made me feel like a god—not a feeling I’d ever had before him.

His mouth closed around me with aching slowness, sucking me deep, then shallow, using his tongue to tease the tip until I whimpered.

Every move was deliberate. Relentless. Worshipful.

Like he was savoring every inch, every taste of me, and couldn’t get enough.

Like the only thing that mattered in the universe was my pleasure.

My head thunked back against the tiles as his hands were suddenly everywhere—cupping my ass, spreading me open, stroking along my ribs like he wanted to memorize my shape.

The contrast of that hot mouth and those big, roving hands had my muscles quaking and tears leaking from my eyes.

There was nothing better than the way Webb loved me. Not one single thing.

I came so hard my vision whited out and my knees threatened to buckle, but Webb’s hands were back on my hips, holding me up… because that was what we did for each other.

When I finally blinked my eyes open, dazed and boneless, Webb rose to his feet. “I love you, Luke Sunday,” he said, voice wrecked, like he thought his actions might not have been convincing enough.

I wanted to get up on my tiptoes and kiss him, but my muscles wouldn’t cooperate. Instead, I let my head fall against his broad chest, buried my face in his pec, and nodded .

Webb dried me off with a big towel, his touch reverent and gentle like I might break.

He half carried me to the laundry room and dressed us both in clean underwear and T-shirts.

It wasn’t until my shirt fell past my hips that I realized Webb had put one of his own shirts on me, but when I saw the look of satisfaction in Webb’s eyes, I realized he’d done it on purpose.

A few moments later, we were cuddled together in the swing on the back porch, my legs over Webb’s thighs and his arms around me as we swayed gently. Silently.

The sun had passed below the treetops on the far side of the Pond Orchard, and a warm, apple-scented breeze blew through my damp hair.

In the pasture, one of the milk cows—probably Stella, the one Gage insisted was an “agitator” who’d eventually “incite a bovine rebellion, you guys, mark my words”—gave a plaintive moo that suggested it was nearly milking time.

A little ways up the road that led to Pond Pond, this autumn’s crop of heirloom apple varietals was still green on the vine, and beyond that, my ladies—the little flock of Romeldales I’d originally acquired, plus two generations of their babies—were feasting on summer grass, knowing in the instinctive way that animals always knew that they should make the most of summer’s bounty while they could.

In just a handful of weeks, the seasons would change, and I’d kiss my husband and stepson goodbye in the mornings before heading to the elementary school to teach a fresh crop of second graders about multiplication tables, and poetry, and the golden rule of friendship.

The life I lived wasn’t just different from any life I’d thought I’d have; it was a freaking miracle.

So much bigger and sunnier than I could have imagined even five years ago when I was flat broke and living in North Carolina…

which just went to show that bad luck didn’t last and shockingly good things happened all the damn time .

I just wished I could make Webb see that.

“Can you imagine,” I found myself asking, “what would have happened if I hadn’t won that contest and come to the Hollow? Or, God, what if we hadn’t gotten drunk and blown the bugle down at the Tavern that winter night?”

Webb’s arms tightened around me. “I don’t even want to think about that. If either of us had done even one thing differently…” His voice trailed off.

I set my hand on his cheek and turned him toward me.

“But, Webb, doesn’t that mean that sometimes things work out even better than we intend just as often as they go wrong?

I mean, neither of us planned to find ourselves accidentally married, or to fall in love, or to have this beautiful life.

If you’d had a plan at all, it probably involved a woman, and Katey Valcourt at Panini Jack’s is probably still low-key hoping you come to your senses. ”

He huffed out a laugh.

“Before I met you, I’d been knocked around by life a bunch, and so had you.

We both had every reason to believe that happily ever afters weren’t meant for us.

But if we’d kept trying to protect ourselves from getting hurt, we’d have missed out on all of this.

” I waved a hand to indicate the orchard I loved, the man I hopelessly adored.

“Our life happened because we took risks. Because we kept hoping and let our hearts be open to it. Because we worked hard and stuck together.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right.” Webb blew out a long, slow breath and threaded our fingers together. “I’ve been an asshole, haven’t I?”

“No, not an asshole, per se, but…”

Green eyes full of regret met mine. “But I let myself get paralyzed by fear, and I pushed you away.” He looked out at the pasture.

“I’m scared we’ll be disappointed again—it seems like all I hear these days are the horror stories—but I tried to keep it to myself.

I thought by not talking about my fears, I was being strong for you and not ruining your excitement.

I was specifically trying not to hurt you. But I did, didn’t I?”

He was so serious. So solid and dependable. So very good . And so very misguided.

“You pulling away hurts me more than anything, Webb.” I shifted to look at him more fully.

“Our life is amazing, but it’s never going to be perfect.

There are going to be bad times. Heartbreaks, like the ones we’ve had.

But I don’t need you to be strong and protect me from them.

I need you to be beside me, sharing the bad times and the good ones.

” I took a deep breath and admitted, “I thought maybe you regretted trying again.”

Webb’s eyes widened in horror. “Ah, baby, no. Fuck, no. Never. I… I want this. More than I can even explain. I want to grow our family, and I love those babies so much already. I just… I don’t know how to reconcile myself to it, you know?

Loving them and feeling so fucking helpless that something could happen to them before they’re even here.

You’d think I’d be used to that feeling after having Aiden, but this is different.

It’s like we’re an extra step removed, you know?

It’s hard to believe that it’s really happening, that it’s really going to be okay. ”

“I feel the same. But seeing the ultrasound pictures—” I hesitated, half expecting Webb to throw me off his lap and go find a chore that needed done, but his gaze remained steady. “It made me fall in love with them even more. They’re real , Webb. Little arms and legs and fingers?—”

“And noses?” Webb supplied, showing he had been listening earlier. He smiled slowly. “I think… No, I know I’d like to see that. And then… and then maybe we can start talking about the nursery. We’ve only got five months to plan, right?”

Unexpected tears made my eyes burn and my vision waver. “Right! Hardly any time at all. So maybe we should tell everyone that they’re coming?”

Webb nodded. “You’re right. We should— Wait.” He froze for a second, and then he scooped me off his lap, set me on my feet, and grabbed my hand. “I have something to show you. Something you’re really going to love. Let’s go upstairs right now.”

“Is the thing your… bugle?” I demanded. “Because if so, I’m going to need at least ten more minutes to recover first.”

Webb threw back his head and laughed, sounding lighter and freer than he had in months. Then he gave me another of those Webb Sunday kisses that made my head spin and my dick perk up more than I’d thought possible.

“Make it five minutes,” I said breathlessly, my lips still clinging to his. “Possibly two if you keep kissing me.”

He laughed again. “Is this what Knox and Gage meant about getting very lucky with the rooster? Because if so, Pecky is definitely double-underline-worthy,” he said.

Then he brought me upstairs and proved it.