Grind (Powertools The Original Crew Returns #3)- Jayne Rylon Page 0,41

pussy. He shot deep inside her, flooding her with his release. And as he did he must have drawn Joe’s come straight out of his balls. The other man grunted and slammed into him with short, jerky strokes as he pumped into Dave’s ass. And Morgan threatened to break his fingers when she joined her husband, spasming around Dave and writhing beneath the lashes of his tongue.

Devon, James, Kate, and Neil were doing the same, giving each other as good as they got. Mike was last to let go. He waited for the rest of his crew to be taken care of before he cried out, then went stiff. He smacked Neil’s ass and emptied himself into it. Only then did he let go of Joe’s grasp and slip to the ground where they became a tangle of arms, legs, and bodies.

There was no coldness then. All of them cuddled together, exchanging lazy kisses, secret smiles, and a few soft laughs as they floated down together.

15

Eventually, the fire died and they decided to abandon the grass for a much more comfortable bed inside. Joe made sure to douse the embers until Kayla was satisfied it was truly out. Neil, Devon, and James took their turn in the ginormous shower in Joe and Morgan’s master bedroom. James could have stayed under the warm spray for an hour if he’d been less sleepy and eager to fall into bed with his lovers. All eight of them.

“I’m so glad that’s decided,” Neil said as he finished toweling Devon dry, then turned to James, slinging an arm around his husband’s shoulder. “We’re moving to Middletown and we’re each getting our own crews. I guess we’ll need a couple weeks to go back, stage the house, and put it on the market.”

“Wait, what?” James ducked out from under his husband’s warm muscles, which at any other time would have been a welcome weight.

“You heard me. You’re getting promoted.” Neil laughed. “We all are. Bosses of our own crews. Isn’t that the plan?”

Devon narrowed her eyes when she, of course, noticed James starting to breathe faster. He couldn’t get it under control as he felt himself being shoved into a mold he didn’t fit. Figured their wife would catch on, no matter how hard he tried to hide his reaction.

“What’s wrong, James?” She stepped closer and held her hand out toward him.

He retreated from the bathroom, finding it hard to take another breath, his lungs clogged with steam. Tromping into the bedroom, the rest of the crew looked up at him from where they were milling around as Neil and Devon followed on his heels.

Sure, he’d known Mike and Joe were doing their thing. But part of him had thought that he, Neil, and Devon would continue to work together. Maybe on their own crew, but not separate ones. Frankly, he’d been rooting for Kayla and keeping Bare Natural as it had been if it meant he wouldn’t have to give up his husband and wife while he worked. He didn’t want things to change that much. He liked them the way they were. And now everyone he knew and loved was changing, leaving him behind.

James blurted, “I’m not a foreman!”

“Not yet, but you will be.” Joe stepped closer, penning him in before he could bolt. “I get it. I was nervous too at first.”

“This isn’t who I am.” James flung his hands out wide, accidentally karate-chopping Neil’s six-pack in the process. He didn’t want anyone touching him. Not right then. “This isn’t what I want.”

Devon tipped her head and listened. “You’re not interested in heading up a crew of your own?”

“No. That sounds horrible.” James knew they’d laugh at him, that they’d say he was being dramatic, but no… “It’s too much pressure. Too much responsibility. I like being good at my job and doing what I do well. I’m glad you’re all happy moving on, although it sucks that you don’t care about working together anymore. But…whatever. No, count me out.”

“There are going to be chances to partner with each other. Hell, someone’s going to have to oversee the house construction, the spa project, and then the rest of the resort. It’s not like you’ll be completely on your own. And with all five us stepping things up, we’ll be that much closer to retiring comfortably so we can spend all of our days together sometime before we’re eighty,” Mike reasoned.

“You’re so busy counting your damn unhatched eggs that no one stopped to ask