Home > Amber to Ashes (Torn Hearts #1)(126)

Amber to Ashes (Torn Hearts #1)(126)
Author: Gail McHugh

“The way every asshole before us should’ve worshipped you, baby girl,” Brock adds as he too starts working away her stress. Caressing her neck, arms, and shoulders, his touch releases the last remnants of tension from her limbs. “The way we’ll always worship you before, during, and after sharing yourself with us.”

Amber rests her arms on Brock’s knees, cushioning her back against his chest. “I’m not used to this.” She sighs in contentment, a wary smile playing around her lips as Brock strums his knuckles up and down her spine. “To be honest, I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to it. Again, before Brock, it wasn’t my norm.”

“Ah, don’t worry about that one. We’ll make very, very sure ya get used to it.” Grinning, I reach for a washcloth and squeeze a dot of vanilla-scented girly shit onto it, my hand screaming out in pain from the searing temperature of the water as I dip it below the bubbles. Trying to avoid sounding like a pussy by whimpering, I quickly lather up the cloth and rub it over Amber’s shoulders, around the back of her neck, and down by the sides of her breasts, enjoying the sound of her little gasp as I circle it around her belly button. “And what the fuck’s up with the entire female population taking baths and showers that make running into a burning building look appealing?”

Amber giggles and reaches for a razor blade, shaking her head as she perches her leg on the side of the Jacuzzi. “It’s relaxing.” She slides the blade down her thigh, her knee sneaking up from beneath the fading bubbles as she shrugs. “Who wants to sit in a lukewarm bath? The thought gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

“I agree,” Brock says, taking the razor from Amber. With her back remaining pressed to his chest, he shackles her ankle in his free hand, lifts her leg from the water and touches his lips to her ear, a grin surfacing on his face as he cautiously runs the blade up behind the silken bend of her knee. “Nothing beats a hot bath. Except,” he adds, his whisper spoken against Amber’s neck, “shaving your insanely hot girlfriend’s legs and other delectable body parts while she’s in that hot bath. Not even the finest green can trump that shit.”

Grin turning sinister, he lifts Amber’s leg higher and trails the razor down the contour of her calf, back up over her thigh, the asshole ultimately sinking the purple, flower-dotted weapon below the water. No longer in my line of sight, its final resting place is a mystery to me. However—and I’m just throwing this out there—judging by the little gasp that shoots past Amber’s lips, I can pretty much figure out which “delectable” part of her body he’s giving attention to.

“You good, baby girl?” he asks as Amber relaxes back into him.

“Better than good,” she purrs, her lack of fear heightening mine as her eyes flitter closed.

I’ve always known Amber defined crazy, that very characteristic the main reason the girl caught my attention. But this shit’s gone too far, her limitless trust in Brock reaching a whole new psychotic level as she continues to allow him to shave what I’m sure she’s unaware is the most goddamn beautiful pussy the big man above ever graced a woman with.

On a sated sigh, Amber twines her right arm around Brock’s neck, her fingers dipping in and out of his hair as she rests her left elbow on my thigh. Her eyes open, a coy smile flirting with her lips as she strums her nails over my knee. I suck in a breath, the soft, slow manipulation of her fingertips throwing me under the deadly wheels of her trance.

“You’re pale, Ryder,” she says with a giggle, “like, ghost white. Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” I rush a hand through my hair, cool with sounding like an overpossessive douchebag. “No, I’m not okay, peach. Besides not needing to be shaved—considering you’ve got minimal hair down there anyway—is what you’re letting him do to you even goddamn safe?” Not waiting for her reply, I look at Brock, my jaw hardening as I stab a finger at him. “Bro, no joke, if you hurt her—even just a little—I swear on my kid sister I’ll fucking kill ya.”

Instead of appearing even marginally defensive, Brock simply smirks, his demeanor as calm as an uninhabited lake as he pulls the razor from the water. “Here,” he says, handing it to me. “When I told you I was willing to share my girl that meant being able to partake in everything I do to her. You can shave her, if you want. That is, if she’s good with it.” He lifts Amber’s hair and kisses her neck, his voice smooth as aged brandy as he moves his mouth to her ear. “Feel like letting Ryder in on this?”

Amber slowly rises and rests her foot on the edge of the Jacuzzi, her hourglass shape shimmering with a thin layer of bubbles. I blink, my heart lurching as she buries a hand in my hair for support. Bared wide open—every glorious inch of her exposed to my hungry eyes—Amber looks down at me, her smile vanishing as she tilts her head. “Yeah. I think I’d enjoy that,” she says, an edge of nervous excitement cutting through her whisper. She reaches for my hand, my cock awakening as she guides the razor over the barely visible landing strip of hair positioned above her pussy. “I think I’d enjoy that . . . a lot.”

Beginning to tremble, I swallow, and fuck if it doesn’t feel like shards of metal are scratching down my throat, my unexpected reaction worse than a teenage boy who’s about to get laid for the first time as I try to think straight. I swing my eyes up to Amber’s as she waits for me to make a move.

No doubt there’s a certain amount of seduction involved in what she wants me to do to her, the lust shadowing her eyes enough to drive me to my knees alone. Hell, who am I kidding? There’s more than a certain amount of seduction, her request landing a first-place position on any straight man’s list of things he’d die to be asked to do by a woman, let alone one of Amber’s caliber. I’m one lucky bastard and I know it. Aside from participating in tonight’s pleasurable acts, this is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever had a girl ask of me, nothing else coming close.

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