“Yes!”
“Yes, baby.”
The three of them were drenched in sweat, and Teresa sighed deeply as she ran her fingers through her now damp hair. When Joaquin finally pulled out, they helped her sit up. She put her hands to her now rosy cheeks. “I need to get back in the water and cool off.”
“We all should. It’ll help wake us up. All I want now is a nap,” Joaquin said as he helped her to her feet.
They played in the water and rinsed off, and Teresa left her hair down for the ride back to the ranch, opting to sit in Angel’s lap for the leisurely return as Adoración followed along. Joaquin rode beside them, and she held his hand and Angel held her in his arms, her head resting lightly on his shoulder.
Teresa looked up at Angel with languid brown eyes. “I hope you build the tree house soon. I’ve missed having naughty little adventures with you like we used to before Eleazar arrived.”
The obstetrician had urged caution and plenty of rest because of slight complications toward the end of her second pregnancy. The men had become much more careful with her, even when she’d begged for them to take her together. True ménages were a rarity where before they’d happened with satisfying frequency.
Angel kissed her temple and glanced at Joaquin. “I guess we’ve been cautious with you for quite a while, haven’t we?”
Teresa giggled. “He’s going on three. I think so. I’m not saying I’m Superwoman, because they keep me really busy, but I’m not a fragile flower, either. I loved playing—really playing—with you today, both the fun stuff and all the sex, and I’d love it if we did that some more.”
She didn’t voice it as a complaint, merely as a hopeful request, and Angel squeezed her and said, “We want you to be happy.”
Joaquin chuckled. “And if wild, mind-blowing, ménage monkey sex is what makes you happy then we’re all about making you happy.”
“Says the former manslut,” Angel grunted, causing Teresa to burst into giggles. Joaquin had confessed his past reputation as a willing object for buckle bunnies on the rodeo circuit prior to having met her, and she’d generously wiped his slut-slate clean.
“Now he’s just my manslut,” Teresa said once she stopped laughing. “Mine, all mine.”
Chapter Eight
Charity wiggled her tush to the music playing in the kitchen as she stood in Grace’s pantry looking for a bottle of mustard. Grace and Ethan had just taken the last of the freshly seasoned meat out to the grill. She finally found the mustard and brought it outside to the large table where all the food was set up.
“Mack. No,” Lydia Carlisle commanded when her overly obnoxious lummox of a Great Pyrenees puppy nosed at the table with the food on it. The dog looked soulfully back at his mistress, groaned pitifully, and returned to the spot next to her feet where he’d been napping in the shade for most of the afternoon. “Good boy.”
“Row-rowr,” he sassed back at Lydia, much to Charity’s amusement.
“That’s right, Mack,” Charity said as she removed the seal from the mustard and set it on the table. “You know who the alpha bitch is, dontcha?”
“Row-rowr.”
Summer laughed as Ace fed her a bite of his ice cream and asked, “Is he always that mouthy, Lydia?”
Lydia chuckled and stroked his big white head. “He misses Jake.”
“Who’s that?” Buck asked from his seat at the edge of the pool.
Lydia smiled. “Not ‘who’ but ‘what.’ We have a barn cat named Jake. Big old ginger tabby. He tomcats around from time to time, and we haven’t seen him for a few days.”
Buck’s buddy and coworker Chad said, “Sounds just like you, Buck! I bet I know which one you’re talking about. I’ve seen one around here that fits your description.”
Charity said, “Now that’s what I call getting around.” There was a distance of several miles between the Divine Creek Ranch and the Rockin’ C Ranch.
Chad nodded and then asked, “Does he have a chewed-up left ear?”
Lydia grinned. “Yes, that’s probably him.”
Buck said, “I know which one you mean. I saw him in the barn the other day. You might see him around here still.”
“Row-rowr.”
Lydia put her hand on Mack’s fluffy white neck. “Nope. You’re staying right—”
Charity burst into laughter and pointed. “Speak of the devil!”
Jake the barn cat had sauntered up and was currently licking the turkey leg that Buck had become distracted from during the conversation.
Buck turned when everyone looked his way and hollered, “Hey, cat! Leave my food alone. Go get your own.” He shooed the cat, Mack caught sight of him, and all hell broke loose.