Texas Tangle (29 page)
“You guys don’t snore, Dillon.”
His mouth quirked at the edges, then spread into his trademark bright grin. “No, but you do.”
With a gasp, she chased him onto the porch and into the kitchen. Laughing, he whirled and caught her about the waist, swinging her off her feet. By the time Brett made it into the kitchen, Dillon had stolen Nikki’s breath with a deep kiss.
“Children, can we focus here?” Brett leaned against the counter until they broke apart. Once he had their attention, he resumed the negotiation. “Housework. Everyone pitches in. We rotate who cooks each day according to our schedule, and whoever cooks doesn’t have to wash up. We each do our own laundry.”
“Then Nikki’ll never have to do laundry,” Dillon said drily.
“Why’s that?”
“Because,” he said, stepping forward and catching the bottom of her tee in his hands, lifting it over her head. “We’re never going to give you a chance to wear clothes.”
Seconds later, Dillon’s pants were slung over the bench, his shirt and socks on top of the pile. He bent his head over one of her nipples, his tongue lashing it, his teeth nipping it, sending sharp tugs clear down to her pussy until she was panting. When she looked up, Brett had toed off his shoes, removed his shirt, and was in the middle of shucking his pants. Once he was completely naked, he faced her, his erection hard against his belly.
“So where do you think, Dillon? On the counter?” His suggestion rumbled from his chest, reminding her of a lion staking its territory. “Or on the table?”
Dillon straightened. The sight of her two hard-bodied lovers, their eyes—blue and brown—flashing with lust, their cocks hard and ready, stole her breath. They were hers. All hers.
“I have a hankering to take her in the rockin’ chair out on the front porch.”
Raising an eyebrow, she hooked her thumbs in her belt loops and sauntered to the hall door. “Remember how I promised I’d never run from you?”
“Yes,” they replied at the same time.
“I lied.” She raced down the hall, laughing when Brett cursed and Dillon groaned. “Catch me if you can, boys.”
About the Author
Growing up in rural Ontario, Leah Braemel learned to lose herself in the make-believe worlds she found in her mother’s books. At the age of seven, she realized she could write her own stories, and in her early teens she discovered her love of romances. Soon all her stories revolved around giving her heroes and heroines their Happy-Ever-After.
Married to her college sweetheart and the mother of two sons, Leah is the only woman in a houseful of men—even their cat is male. Shoving her writing in the closet while she raised her family, she gained some varied and interesting insights while working with a security firm liaising with Toronto’s Emergency Task Force and bomb squad and later teaching computers to women escaping abusive relationships.
After a conversation with her eldest son about how he needed to follow his dreams, Leah decided she needed to follow her own advice and make her own dreams of becoming a writer come true. She was thrilled when her first sizzling romance was published in 2009.
Leah loves hearing from her readers at [email protected]. You can also follow Leah on her website, www.LeahBraemel.com.
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ISBN: 978-1-4268-9037-6
Copyright © 2010 by Leah Braemel
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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