Filthy Vows - Alessandra Torre Page 0,25

Aaron clustered together on the back porch, their heads tilted down, looking at something by their feet. And just like that, the unexpected and unwelcome visual pushed itself forward.

My knees, scraping against the rough stubble of the concrete as I knelt in between them.

Aaron’s hand, settling on the back of my head and pulling me in.

The worn fabric of Easton’s jeans under my hand, his pose shifting impatiently as I let Aaron guide my mouth onto his rigid cock.

“Take it all,” Easton ordered, his voice gruff.

“Jesus,” Aaron swore. “Your wife knows how to suck a cock.”

I turned away from the window sharply, trying to blot out the visual from my head. Blinking rapidly, I made my way to the slider and pulled it open, pasting a smile across my face. “Hey guys.”

They looked over, and a slow smile spread across E’s face. “Hey baby.”

In between their legs sat Wayland, his chin up, mouth open, his tongue lolling to one side. He saw me and barked, his tail thudding, but didn’t move.

“E was telling me about his day,” Aaron explained.

“Wayland’s day? Or E’s?” I navigated around the patio furniture and gave Easton a kiss, planted another one on Wayland’s snout, and then hugged Aaron. He was as tall as E, and I had to get on my tiptoes in order to wrap my hands around his neck. “Sorry to hear about everything,” I whispered in his ear. He squeezed me tighter in response.

“Thanks.” We broke apart. “And Wayland’s day.”

I glanced at Easton. “Oh no. What did he do?”

“Wayland,” he said solemnly, “was kicked out of playtime.”

“Kicked out of playtime?” I frowned, crossing my arms and looking down at the dog, who offered me one gigantic paw, his grin pinching shut as he took in my stern expression. As I watched, a long line of drool dripped to the floor.

“He was humping the other dogs,” Easton explained. “Mercilessly.”

“Oh God.” I reached in between the two men and grabbed the roll of paper towels, tearing off a piece and crouching before the Great Dane. I wiped up the drool spot before dabbing the dog’s cheek. He tried to eat the paper towel and I thwarted the attempt, wrapping my arms around his chest and giving him a hug. Tugging on his ears, I stood. “Where do you think he learned that?”

“Merciless humping?” Easton cocked one brow and lifted his hands in innocence. “I have no idea.”

“Uh-huh.” I grabbed his shirt and pulled on it, bringing his mouth to mine. “I’m going to go change.”

“Do you mind grabbing me one of E’s T-shirts” Aaron asked. “I’m dying to get out of this outfit.” He cranked his head to the side and worked open his tie.

I started, suddenly aware of his crisp white shirt and dark navy tie. I hadn’t seen him in a tie since our wedding. “Look at you. All fancy.” Like Easton, he could rock a tie with the best of them. He had a bigger build than my husband, but it was a nice contrast, the dress shirt tight on his shoulders and biceps. It had been so long since I’d seen him in anything other than a T-shirt and jeans, it took a moment to adjust to the shift. I’d like to say that my fantasies kept their proper distance from my husband’s best friend, but I had a construction worker fantasy I’d always earmarked for Aaron. Now, my brain reshuffled its Rolodex, slipping this image into the hot executive file as well.

“Had a meeting at the bank.” He grimaced. “Looking at a business loan to buy out Becca.”

I sobered at the realization that she owned half of his construction business. “I’m sorry, Aaron. That sucks.” I pushed Wayland away before he climbed up my leg. “Have you talked to an attorney yet?”

“I’m not contesting it. We’re meeting with a mediator tomorrow to discuss the house and the business. If we can agree on those things, everything could be done in thirty days.”

Thirty days, and their marriage would be over. Alarming, how quickly a union could fall apart. I turned away before I started getting emotional at the thought. “I’m going to change. I’ll grab you a shirt.”

I pulled at the slider and left them alone on the porch.

“Fuck her and her feelings.”

I paused behind the pair and tapped the edge of Easton’s shoulder with a cold beer. “Here.” He turned and I handed over another for Aaron, along with a worn T-shirt of E’s that had Florida State Baseball