Winners Read Online Free PDF

again. Wanting to keep her at
home, wrapped in cotton wool, waiting for them to come through the door and be
with her. It was selfish and caveman style, and she’d pinch him—or worse—if he
voiced those thoughts. She’d been a sweet and compliant child, and a reasonable
teenager, but the time away at school had polished her a little. Still sweet
and gentle, there was a core of steel beneath that exterior that came to the
forefront when she required it. They were proud of her for that, too.
    His fingers automatically switched
off the ignition after shoving the stick into park, and he fumbled with the
door handle. Ash was already climbing out, tugging Sinclair behind him, and
Craig hustled, reluctant to be late to the party. His brother now had their
woman over his shoulder, tapping her rounded butt to the sounds of her laughter
and mock protests. Craig faltered in his gait, the utter joy he experienced
actually calming his libido. She was fucking perfect.
    Ruffling the ears of the two yard dogs
as they frolicked around the humans, drawn by the frivolity, he then reached to
turn the doorknob, allowing Ash and Sinclair access. He closed and locked the
door behind him and raced up the stairs, his eyes fixed on Sinclair. All that
ebony hair trailed downward in shimmering waves, and
her shirt had ridden up to reveal a tantalizing slice of skin.   His brother carried her into the master suite
where he dropped her on the bed. She bounced and made a little shriek, giving
Ash a mock glare before turning her attention to Craig. He did his best “you
are in deep shit” stare and was rewarded with a wary, assessing look. She
skittered backward, bending her knees and using her heels and hands to move her
luscious body along, and he abandoned all pretence of cool.
    Diving past Ashton, who was
smirking, Craig caged Sinclair against the mattress, using his superior size
and strength to imprison her. She engaged him in a spirited fashion, wriggling
and then tickling his ribs, only to push her hands through his hair and pull
him closer when he fused his mouth to hers. The faint, robust flavor of red
wine was tangy on her breath, and then he lost himself in the taste of pure
Sin.
    Her hands slipped to his shoulders
and over his back to grasp at the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward. The feel
of her strong little hands, work roughened and tantalizing on his skin, pushed
a groan past his throat, and he rolled with her, her slight weight a welcome
burden on his chest. Still sipping her lips, he felt the bed dip under Ashton’s
weight as his brother made short work of stripping Sinclair’s boots, two spaced
thumps signifying them hitting the floor. Her hips lifted, leaving his cock
mourning the press of her mound, and he knew his brother had relieved her of
her jeans, and probably her panties. For he could feel such
sweet, localized heat when she again rested against him.
    At last he released her, and she
elevated her head to meet his eyes, hazy desire reflected back, her mouth
swollen from his tender assault. Ash eased her upward, tanned hands contrasting
with the pale flesh of her forearms as his brother pulled her to straddle
Craig, her knees tucked against his hips, wet, glistening pussy spread for his
perusal. She had such a pretty sex, downy hair cropped close, the inner folds
pink shading to crimson, and he’d become addicted to her taste.
    She set her hands on his abdomen
and arched her back, knowing he was looking, aware of her feminine draw as she
learned her sexuality at his and Ashton’s tutorials. Because Sinclair was
initially shy, painfully so, he and his brother had made it their mission to
cure her of that misguided attribute. He deliberately reached to work open the
buttons on her shirt, slipping the small disks free with rigid self control,
testing all three of them as Ashton gave him a look and Sinclair squirmed.
    “Patience, darlin ’,”
he warned, pleased when she stilled. He spread the panels wide, and