21. Toby
CHAPTER 21
Toby
T here’s a change as soon as we return to the ranch, and I know all of us can feel it, not just me.
We don’t take Emerson back to the coach house, but to our house, where I put her bags in the guest room before joining her and my brothers in the living room.
The awe on her face is just as palpable as it was from the moment we arrived on her parents’ doorstep, and I know we made the right decision to go get her.
“You’re really here,” Owen says, his voice low. “These past two weeks without you...”
“Have been fucking awful,” I finish for him, unable to hold back anymore.
Brock steps closer, his usual composure cracking. “We thought about you every day. The ranch felt empty.”
“When you left,” Owen continues, “we realized what we’d lost. Not just someone to help run things, but you—the woman who somehow became essential to all of us.”
“We weren’t ready to admit it,” Brock says, “but watching you walk away made it impossible to deny.”
I meet her eyes directly. “We love you, Emmy. Each of us, in our own way.”
“We want to build something here,” Owen adds. “Something unconventional, maybe, but real.”
I watch her heart race as she looks at each of us. Her expression transitions from disbelief to something I haven’t seen since Vegas—pure, unguarded joy.
“Are you okay?” I ask as she does a full turn, taking in the surroundings like she’s seeing them for the first time.
Emerson releases a small laugh. “This just doesn’t seem real. I’ve missed you all so much it hurt. I kept telling myself I was doing the right thing, but nothing felt right without you three.”
Owen places a comforting hand on her shoulder and massages her gently. “We’ve been trying to show you all along that we’re here for you, Emmy. I wish you’d trusted us earlier.”
He guides her toward the couch, and we follow. Brock places his hand casually on her leg as I sit on the other side.
“I kept telling you that you’re part of the Pine Sky family,” Brock reminds her.
Her legs part slightly, eyes widening, and my crotch tightens in anticipation. I cup her face, pulling her face toward me, the need to kiss her lips overwhelming. I haven’t been able to think of anything else for weeks; the fixation is consuming me. Her mouth brushes eagerly against mine, and I exhale, feeling that everything is finally right in the world again.
Both of Owen’s hands extend over her collarbone, sliding lower against her front, and Brock spreads her further apart. My hand curls gently around her throat as I push her back to stare into her emerald irises, biting on my lower lip.
“I intend to remember every second of this,” I warn her.
“Me too,” Brock agrees.
“Me three,” Owen chimes in.
My fingers trail over her lips as our eyes lock, the connection between us undeniable. The moments since our confession of love hang in the air, charging every touch with new meaning. I trace the soft fullness of her mouth, feeling her breath quicken against my skin.
“I’ve thought about this every night since you left,” I whisper, my voice rough with desire.
Her eyes, those mesmerizing emerald pools, seem to darken as she parts her lips. I slip my fingers inside the warm wetness of her mouth, groaning as she begins to suck them gently. The sensation sends jolts of pleasure straight to my cock.
Owen moves behind her, his hands sliding around to caress her collarbone before dipping beneath her top. I watch her eyelids flutter as his fingers find her breasts, cupping and teasing with the practiced touch that comes from knowing exactly what she likes.
“We’ve missed the way you respond to us,” Owen murmurs against her ear, his lips brushing the sensitive skin there. “The little sounds you make when we touch you just right.”
Emerson arches into his touch, her tongue swirling around my fingers in a way that makes my dick throb painfully against my jeans. I can’t wait another second. I withdraw my fingers, leaving a glistening trail along her bottom lip as I reach for my belt.
The metallic sound of my buckle seems to echo in the room. Her eyes follow my movements hungrily as I free myself from the confines of my clothing, my erection springing forth, hard and ready.
“I need to feel you,” she breathes, reaching for me with one hand while her other seeks out Brock.
My oldest brother kneels beside her, his eyes never leaving her face as he begins to undress her with a reverence that belies his usual businesslike demeanor. Each inch of skin he reveals is like unwrapping a gift we’ve all been longing to possess again.
“You’re even more beautiful than I remembered,” Brock murmurs, his hands tracing the curve of her hip, the swell of her slightly rounded belly where our child grows.
The sight of her—fully naked now, sprawled against the sofa cushions, her hair fanned out like a fiery halo—takes my breath away.
I lean forward, unable to resist capturing her lips with mine. The kiss is deep and consuming. I pour every ounce of longing, every moment of emptiness I felt in her absence into that kiss.
Below us, Brock settles between her thighs, his broad shoulders pushing them wider as he lowers his mouth to her center. The first touch of his tongue against her most intimate place makes her gasp into my mouth, her body tensing then melting as he begins to work her with slow, deliberate strokes.
Her thighs clench around his head, her back arching off the sofa. “Oh God,” she cries out, breaking our kiss. “I’ve missed this so much.”
Owen circles around to the side of the couch, shedding his remaining clothes as he moves. His expression is one of adoration as he takes in the sight of us together.
“We’re never letting you go again,” he promises, his voice thick with arousal.
I position myself near her head, my cock aching for the warmth of her mouth.
As if reading my thoughts, she reaches for me eagerly, drawing me toward her parted lips. The first touch of her tongue nearly undoes me.
Her other hand reaches blindly for Owen, finding his hard length and wrapping her fingers around him. The synchronicity of our movements—Brock’s tongue working her below, her mouth engulfing me while she strokes Owen—creates a primal rhythm of raw, uninhibited pleasure.
I feel myself swelling inside the wet heat of her mouth, my control slipping as she takes me deeper. Through half-lidded eyes, I watch her body respond to Brock’s skilled mouth, her hips rolling against his face, seeking more pressure, more friction.
A deep, vibrating moan escapes her, the sound reverberating around my cock.
“I think she’s coming, Brock,” I groan, feeling my own orgasm building at the base of my spine. The sight of her pleasure is almost too much to bear.
Abruptly, I withdraw from her mouth, needing a moment to regain control. Brock lifts his head, his lips glistening with her essence, his eyes dark with desire. Without words, we communicate our next move.
Working together as only triplets can, we reposition her—turning her over, arranging her limbs, preparing her for more pleasure. Owen steps forward, his cock jutting proudly as he moves behind her.
I slide beneath her, positioning myself so her breasts hang tantalizingly close to my mouth. I capture one taut nipple between my lips, sucking gently as Owen pushes into her pussy from behind. Her cry of pleasure is muffled as Brock slides his shaft between her parted lips.
The sight of her—filled completely, connected to all three of us—is the most erotic thing I’ve ever witnessed. My fingers find their way to the place where she and Owen join, feeling the slickness there, circling the swollen bud of her clit.
“Come for us again, Emmy,” I urge her, applying more pressure. “Let us feel you.”
“Oh fuck yes,” she purrs against Brock’s cock, her entire body trembling with an approaching release.
Brock’s head falls back, his jaw clenching. “I’m coming too,” he grunts, his hips stuttering against her face.
I continue to work her sensitive flesh. Owen’s rhythm falters as well, his breathing becoming ragged as he approaches his own climax.
“You’re so perfect,” he gasps, his fingers digging into her hips as he empties himself inside her.
As Owen withdraws, I seize my chance. With one fluid movement, I position myself at her entrance and thrust upward, filling the void Owen left behind. The sound that escapes her is something between a scream and a sob—raw, uninhibited pleasure.
“Finish me, darlin’,” I whisper, driving up into her heat, as she rocks against me.
Brock moves away, leaving just the two of us connected. Our eyes lock as I thrust into her, feeling every clench and pulse of her inner walls around me. Something is different about this moment; it’s deeper than just physical pleasure.
Her mouth opens in a silent cry, her eyes never leaving mine. “Please,” she whimpers, “don’t stop.”
“More, darlin’?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
Her nod is frantic, desperate.
“I could fuck you all day long.” And that’s true. I don’t want this moment to end.
She falls forward, her nails digging half-moons into my chest as her third orgasm crashes through her. The feeling of her tightening around me, combined with the intimacy of her gaze, drives me over the edge.
Release pulses through me in hot, endless waves, filling her as I hold her tight against me. It feels like coming home—like every part of me recognizes every part of her.
As our breathing slows, I pull her against my chest, cradling her trembling body. My brothers settle on either side of us, their hands stroking her back, her hair, any part of her they can reach.
“I’m definitely going to remember this,” I murmur against her temple, feeling more content than I have in weeks.
She mumbles something incoherent.
After a moment, Emerson raises her head to look at us, her expression suddenly serious. “Do you really think we’re going to be okay like this?”
A defensiveness rises in me instantly. “Like what?” I ask, brow furrowing. “What are you worried about?”
She half untangles herself from me, sitting up slightly to face all three of us. “Everything,” she answers honestly. “Maybe this is normal for you guys, but?—”
“Whoa, whoa, what?” Brock laughs, genuine surprise on his face. “This isn’t ‘normal’ for us. What gave you that idea?”
She flushes deeply, adjusting her position. “I mean. I just... You guys are used to sharing I guess. So...”
“Ohh.” Understanding dawns, and we exchange glances, chuckling softly.
My fingertips trace lazy patterns along the curve of her calf as Brock explains.
“We might share everything else, but this is a first, having a woman live in our house.”
“And have our baby,” I add, waiting for Brock’s usual reprimand that doesn’t come.
Emerson’s shoulders visibly relax at our confession.
I reassure her, squeezing her hand. “This is new to us, too.”
“Okay...” The uncertainty in her voice is fading.
Owen leans forward, taking her face between his palms. “So, we’ll navigate all the ups and downs of this together, okay?” He seals the promise with a soft kiss on her lips.
She nods, exhaling a breath she seems to have been holding since Vegas. “All right.”
“We’ve got you, Emerson,” Brock tells her, his usual gruffness softened by genuine emotion. “But you have to trust us. Can you do that?”
She looks at each of us in turn, her verdant eyes shining with unshed tears as she nods. “Yes,” she breathes, the word carrying the weight of a vow. “I already do.”
In that moment, with her nestled between us, I know we’re building something worth fighting for. We might not have all the answers yet, but we have each other. For now, that’s more than enough.