Free Iron & Bone (Lock & Key #3) by Cat Porter

the same for me.
    Boner slung an arm around my neck and pulled me close, taking the shopping bags from me. “We okay?”
    There was that intriguing earthy scent threatening my grip on sanity. There was that protective older brother type of affection again. But this time, that affection was laced with heat that was specific, real, not a fantasy on my part, not a girlish wish.
    “Yes, sure. Of course,” I blurted. The warm metallic scent of his leather vest made my stomach curl. I’d had that Bonerworld wrapped around me, been inside it, for a brief moment.
    Shouldn’t I be embarrassed by all this?
    I’d put his hands on my naked breasts, inviting him to touch me. I’d done that, but he’d stopped it.
    My insides tumbled.
    No, I wasn’t embarrassed, only disappointed.
    Because I want more from him.
    That exquisite pleasure had come on like a freight train. I hadn’t felt that sort of intensity in God knows how long, if ever. It was deep, huge, blasting.
    That tongue, his mouth—he knew how to use them.
    His touch, so simple—gentle one moment, intense the next—was everything.
    Maybe it was so very exciting because we had been in a public place, and it had been unexpected . Pregnancy hormones had obviously not helped me out there.
    Who am I kidding?
    I was nuts for him and had been for a long time. Yes, I liked that he cared about me and looked out for me, but I was insanely attracted to him and intrigued by him, too.
    I glanced at Boner. He was looking down, his expression almost…sad.
    Why?
    All of this wouldn’t be figured out over a cig break at the mall, that was for sure. Our friendship was very important to me though, and I needed to make sure I wouldn’t lose my friend.
    I pressed my lips together and slid an arm around his waist. “We’re good.”
    His face relaxed, and he planted a kiss on the top of my head. We strolled in the direction of the nearest exit, his one arm hanging off my shoulder.
    He smoked in silence on the edge of a bench by a sand-filled canister while I sat on the bench opposite of him and chewed on a piece of gum. Boner scanned the parking lot as he exhaled a long stream of smoke. I squeezed my thighs together, grinding on my gum, but it did no good. The ache in my chest and the throb between my legs remained.
    I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Boner was extremely private. I suspected only Grace had his complete trust, judging by the easy way they were together—the knowing looks they shared and the natural physical affection they showed each other, like a simple touch on the arm, a squeeze of the hand, a quick kiss on the cheek. It was nice, and I liked that about them, their bond, like a real loving brother and sister who were there for each other.
    He had a left-of-center dry sense of humor that I really enjoyed. He was smart. He saw odd twists that others didn’t see or notice. But there was always an underlying thread of severity, a guarded severity that he seemed to reserve just for me. I reminded him of his best friend’s horrible death; there seemed to be no getting past that.
    After I had gone through with the surrogacy pregnancy for Grace and gotten pregnant with her and Lock’s baby, Boner had looked at me with new eyes. This wasn’t the wariness and cool suspicion of when I had first arrived from Nebraska. This was something new. Something that resonated in the depths of my soul.
    Was it admiration? Respect?
    Whatever it was, it sent a ripple of warmth through me every time.
    It’s about the baby, what you’re doing for his best friends.
    He was attracted to me as well though. The madness in the dressing room had just confirmed that. And it was good madness, electric and fiery good. Slow burn combustion.
    I crossed my legs and stretched my back in an effort to release the tension in my chest and my too-tight bra.
    No use.
    My boobs would never be the same.
    Ten minutes later, I chewed on a second stick of gum, and Boner was on another two pieces as we