Four Real - Page 25

The door creaks open and Logan sticks his head out, not seeing us at first, but then doing a double take. “You are out here. What are you doing?”

“We just had dinner,” Knox says, ignoring the fact that, without the porch light on, it’s practically too dark to see anything. “What are you doing back?”

“It’s late. We have to work tomorrow.” Logan’s eyes slide over to me. He squints, his gaze taking all of me in, and thank goodness we heard them in time. I’d have been mortified to have been caught out here with my shirt off. Then he disappears, the door banging behind him.

“I’m sorry about that.” Knox says. His eyes dip down to my chest before meeting mine. “Really sorry.”

“It’s okay.” It has to be okay, but I’m frustrated. Maybe now I have some idea of what it’s like for men to have a swollen cock restrained in snug pants. None of my body is constricted, but my pussy feels heavy, and very much in need of a release.

“Let’s go.” Knox holds out a hand to help me up from the sofa, and we carry our dishes and glasses inside. I help him load the dishwasher and then he helps me gather my things.

“I should be able to have the files to you by tomorrow night,” he says.

“That’ll be great. Thank you.”

I hear voices from upstairs but I don’t see any of the other men on my way out, and I can’t decide if I miss seeing them or if I’m grateful not to have to talk to them while I’m in my still-very-horny and frustrated state.

At home, I get ready for bed, climb under the covers, and slip my hand inside my panties. I brush my other hand over my breasts, making my nipples hard, squeezing and pinching them as I imagine Knox’s mouth on them. I pull wetness up from between my legs and glide it over my clit, circling close around it as the tension builds.

Then Logan is there in my mind, too. What if we hadn’t heard that he was home, and he came out and joined us, sucking on one of my breasts while Knox sucked the other?

I rock my hips on the bed, mindful not to make too much noise as my pleasure rises. I imagine that the hand between my legs is not my own, but Cade’s or Ryder’s, or maybe it’s both of them, working together to get me off. I come so hard that I have to stifle my moan in my arm.

What a wild imagination.

14

A strong, smart woman

The next morning, there’s already a text waiting for me.

Knox: Couldn’t sleep. The photos are ready for you here: .

I wonder if his lack of sleep has anything to do with us being interrupted on the porch. If I hadn’t gotten myself off, I’d still be lying in bed staring at the ceiling.

When things are slow at work, I polish the product descriptions, and I spend most of the next day building the online store, pairing Knox’s images with my listings. He sent several more shots of me modeling the clothing than I’d requested, so I take his suggestion and create half of the listings with modeled photos and half with the items lying in the sand.

When I’m finally happy with how the store looks, I tell my parents that I’d like to talk with them. We sit around the kitchen table, and I give them a tour of the site on my laptop, along with information about costs for the online platform, credit card processing and shipping, and an estimation of potential earnings.

They’re surprised at first, then impressed, as I answer their questions about order fulfillment, inventory, and marketing.

“You’ve put a lot of work into this,” my dad says. “What inspired this?”

“Well…” I say, nervous for the first time in this presentation. “I’d like to move into an apartment, but I don’t make enough money to afford both my car and rent.” Their expressions change, and I continue on in a rush. “I love you both, and I like living here, but it’s time for me to have more independence. I thought if I could find a way to bring in more money to the store, you’d be able to afford to pay me more.”

There’s a long moment of uncomfortable silence before my dad says, “What about the apartment over the garage? Lacy will be moving out soon, and you could move in there.”

My mom interrupts, putting a hand on my dad’s arm. “Bianca’s had enough of Lacy’s hand-me-downs her whole life. She needs something that’s all her own.”

My dad frowns, but my mom continues, looking at me now. “Don’t mind him. He’s just not ready for his girls to leave the nest.”

“I’m not planning to go far,” I assure them. “I’m looking into apartments on the island.”

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