by Rose, Callie
His gaze snaps to me, and I see something in his expression similar to what I saw the night Iris died. Lincoln is one of the most commanding guys I know, and he’s almost always in control. But he wasn’t that night, and he isn’t right now either.
“Yes, Harlow.” He moves toward me, his strides long and determined. “For all we know, Judge Hollowell knows everything. I’m not letting you stay here with a giant fucking target painted on your back. I’ll ship you off to another damn country if I have to.”
It sounds like he’s exaggerating, but one look into his eyes tells me he’s not.
But I shake my head again. “No.”
“Dammit—”
“No. I can’t go anywhere, Linc. I’m not leaving my mom behind. If I go, she stays in prison. Her trial comes and goes and Judge Hollowell pulls whatever strings he has to do make sure she gets convicted. I’m the only chance she has.”
He stops several feet away from the couch where I’m sitting next to River. The twins are in two chairs nearby, and all three boys watch the silent standoff between me and Linc.
“I get why you want me out of here,” I say softly, lowering my voice. “I wish it was that simple. But I can’t leave Mom. I can’t leave you guys.”
A dozen different emotions flash across his face, but it’s the last one that catches my attention most strongly. It’s something I can’t quite pinpoint, but it blazes strong and hot in his expression. It’s like possessiveness and pride all mixed into one.
I’ve never been one to slink off into the shadows or hide from a fight, and Linc likes that about me. He may hate it right now, but he can’t change who I am.
He chews on his lower lip, still staring at me intently for a few moments. Then he dips his head once. “Fine. You stay here. But”—he lifts a hand, the line of his brow hardening—“if we get even a hint that Judge Hollowell does know, that he’s planning on coming after you, I’m shipping you off myself.”
I nod. I hate this bargain, but I know Lincoln needs something to hold on to. And he may be right. I can’t help my mom at all if I’m dead.
On my right, River makes a small noise of defeat, and when I turn to face him, he’s shaking his head.
“Harlow… you should still probably get your stuff from my house. I don’t know if you should stay with me anymore.” His gray eyes churn like storm clouds. “My dad is pissed as fuck about my car. The towing company called him to confirm the drop-off at the mechanic, and he about lost his shit.”
My stomach clenches. River dismissed the damage to his car so quickly I pretty much forgot about it, but the truth is, I wrecked a vehicle that must’ve cost at least a hundred grand. And if the “you break it, you buy it” policy is in effect, I’ll be paying that shit off till the day I die.
“Shit, River. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things worse between you and your dad.”
He snorts a humorless laugh. “I don’t know what he’s so mad about. I never drove that stupid thing, I didn’t even want it, and he can afford to replace it without even blinking an eye. But it’s not about the money for him, it’s about the principle.”
I can believe that. River’s parents aren’t as disconnected from him as Dax and Chase’s are from the two of them, but I sometimes wonder if it’d be better if they were. I’m not sure if it’s related to River’s hearing impairment or something else entirely, but it seems like Mr. Bettencourt decided a long time ago that his son was a disappointment, and I don’t know if anything would change his mind.
“He’s been giving me a hard time lately about you staying at our house, and when the call came in about the car, he went off.” River shakes his head, looking almost ashamed, like he’s letting me down somehow just because his dad is an asshole. “He knows you borrowed it and were driving when it wrecked. He’s… not the biggest fan of yours.”
I allow a sardonic smile to tilt my lips, reaching for his hand and lacing our fingers together. “Oh, he’s not a fan of the girl who crashed at his house for weeks like a squatter, then borrowed your car and wrecked it? Gee, shocker.”
River’s expression loosens slightly, and he grins back, tightening his fingers around mine. Good. It sucks that his dad is pissed at me, and it sucks even more that he’s probably pissed at River for all of this too. But I don’t want the serious, brown-haired boy to feel bad about it. It’s not his fault.
“She can stay here,” Chase puts in, shrugging lightly. “It makes the most sense. Our parents won’t give a shit what she does. She could tap dance naked through the living room, and they probably wouldn’t even notice.”
“Shit’s still messed up at your house, with Paige and all?” Dax asks Linc.
Lincoln grimaces. “Yeah. She’s still threatening to blackmail dad over the baby. I don’t know what he’s gonna do about it.”
“Low can stay with us. We’ll look out for her.”
“Okay,” Linc finally agrees, then he shifts his attention back to me. I can tell he doesn’t like this at all, and neither does River—I have a feeling neither boy wants to let me out of their sight. But it says volumes about the bond the four kings share that they’re willing to trust my protection to each other. “Until we figure out what to do about this fucking Judge Hollowell thing, you’ll stay here. River and I can bring your stuff over tonight.”
“You don’t have to do that.” I shake my head, blinking hard. The adrenaline is gone, and with the Advil kicking in, now I just feel exhausted. “I’m sure I can make it one night with what I have. I can borrow clothes to sleep in, can’t I?”
“Yeah. No problem.”
Dax’s voice is low, and when I cut a glance his way, the expression on his face makes my stomach turn to liquid heat. He looks like the thought of me in his clothes is the hottest fucking thing he can think of.
Chase’s eyes have darkened too, and I glance away as my stomach flip-flops. I remember thinking once that at the rate I was going, I’d probably end up having to crash at the twins’ house at some point, but I honestly didn’t expect it to really happen—or at least, not under these circumstances.
I feel overwhelmed. Like so much is happening that my mind can’t keep up with all of it, and random thoughts and worries keep popping up and dropping away before I can even process them.
River, who notices everything, must catch the mess of emotions swirling in my eyes, because he scoots a little closer to me on the couch, bringing our joined hands to his lips.
“It’s okay, Low. We don’t have to figure this all out tonight. We’ll get there. Keeping you safe is the main thing, and we’ll make a plan for everything else.”
How the fuck does he manage to stay so calm, confident, and certain? I lean into him briefly, soaking up his scent and the warmth of his body, and then I nod. “Okay.”
He stands, pulling me to my feet with him. “Get some sleep, okay? We’ll see you tomorrow.”
I nod again, and Linc crosses toward us. He grasps my chin in one large hand, his gaze bouncing between my eyes as he brings his face so close to mine I can feel the caress of his breath on my skin.
“We will not let anything happen to you, Low. You have my fucking word. We’ll fix this.”
Those are promises he can’t make, can’t guarantee he’ll keep. But I believe him anyway, and the knot of tension in my stomach unwinds a little.
He kisses me hard, the way he does when he’s trying to claim a piece of me before letting go, and I press my lips to his with the same bruising intensity.
River tugs me into his arms and gives me one long, slow, deep kiss before stepping back. Then the two boys turn and head for the door.
As soon as they’re gone, all the adrenaline and forced energy that was keeping me going drains from my body, and I practically wilt. Chase lets out a low chuckle and slings an arm around my waist, leading me back out into the entry foyer and up one of two sets of staircases leading to the second floor.
“Come on, sleeping beauty. Let’s get you horizontal before you pa
ss out.”
The twins’ rooms are on the second floor, and they’re both massive. They each have attached bathrooms, and I rally enough to request a shower. My hair is tangled with little bits of matted blood, and my shoes and pants got damp from tromping around in the snow. A hot shower and warm, dry clothes sound like fucking heaven right about now.
“Yeah, of course. Come on.” Dax opens the door to his bedroom and ushers me and Chase inside.
He shows me where the towels are in the bathroom, then leaves me to it.
I haven’t even asked where I’ll be staying, and if they offer me a guest room, I won’t say no. But to be honest, after the fucked-up day I’ve had, I hate the idea of sleeping alone.
Warm water sluices down over me as I tilt my face up toward the spray, letting it wash away the last remnants of the day. I expect the hot water and steam to make me sleepier, but they actually refresh me, making me feel more clear-headed and human than I have since the accident.
I turn off the tap before I get totally pruney and wrap a towel around myself. Then I step back out into the bedroom.
Chase and Dax are both still in the room. Dax is sitting on the bed, and Chase is leaning against a large dresser nearby. They’re talking in low voices, so quiet I can’t make the words out, and the sight of them makes my heart squeeze.
I’m envious of the bond these two boys share. I don’t think most people in the world have that kind of connection to another human being—not to their parents or siblings or lovers. This is something beyond closeness, beyond brotherly affection. It’s like they’re two sides of a coin, each boy a whole, unique individual while at the same time a part of something bigger than himself.
They look up as they notice the bathroom door swing open, and their gazes catch on me—on the soft towel wrapped around my body, and the expanse of bare shoulder and strands of wet hair above it.
Dax clears his throat and gestures to the bed beside him, where I notice a pair of men’s athletic shorts and a t-shirt are laid out. “We got you some clothes.”
“Thanks.”
I step forward to collect them, and as I grab the two items, something occurs to me. I’ve seen the t-shirt on Chase before, but I’m pretty sure the shorts belong to Dax. Lifting a brow, I glance up at the two of them.
“Are these… from both of you?”
Chase’s grin is a little bashful. “Well, we each wanted to contribute something to the cause, so to speak.”
A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth even as a flush of warmth spreads through my body. I grab the t-shirt and shorts and return to the bathroom, hanging up the towel before slipping them on. They’re both huge on me. I probably could’ve gotten away with just the shirt, since it hangs down past my ass, but I like the way the clothes surround me with Dax’s sweet clove scent and Chase’s bergamot aroma. They make me feel cozy and safe.
Wiping the steam from the mirror, I glance at my reflection. The bruise on the side of my head is a real whopper, deep purple and blue. It hurts when I poke at it, but the throbbing headache has receded. I comb my fingers through my damp hair, separating the dark strands, then head back into the bedroom.
This time, Dax and Chase are both sitting on the bed, and my heart gives a little flutter when I see them. They stand up as I pad over, and Dax pulls back the covers for me without a word. They changed while I was in the shower and are now dressed in clothes similar to mine. We could be a matching trio, except for the fact that what I’m wearing barely fits. I had to roll the waistband of the shorts a couple times to make them stay up.
I glance at the two boys but don’t hesitate, crawling into the middle of the bed and letting my head fall back on the pillows. The twins share a look, then slide onto the mattress on either side of me.
Dax flips a switch on the wall near the headboard, and the lights go out, plunging us into near-darkness.
Two large, firm bodies settle in next to me, encasing my body from either side. I lie on my back, gazing up at the shadowy ceiling as Dax’s hand rests on my stomach and Chase’s palm rests on my hip.
I could probably fall asleep right now—in fact, I can feel my body tugging me toward unconsciousness—but I suddenly find that I don’t want to.
I’m acutely aware of every inch of my body, of every place Dax or Chase brushes up against me, of the feel of their breath and the heat of their skin. It takes effort to keep my own breath from speeding up as I whisper into the darkness, “Thanks for letting me crash here.”
“Anytime.”
Dax’s lips brush against the shell of my ear, and my breath hitches. I can feel their bodies relax next to mine as they drift toward sleep, and I try to let myself go with them, try to let their comforting presence slow down my whirring brain.
But every time my eyelids droop closed, they pop back open again a few seconds later.
“Low.” Chase’s whispered voice holds an edge of amusement when he speaks up ten minutes later. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Uh…” I turn my head slightly to peer at him in the dim light. “Sleeping?”
“No, you’re not. You’re stiff as a fucking board, and you’re definitely not sleeping.”
“Oh. Sorry.” I shift a little on the soft mattress, willing my body to relax.
“Don’t be sorry.” He rises up onto his elbows to peer down at me, and I feel Dax move on my other side, indicating he’s awake too. “You had a crazy fucking day.”
“Yeah.” I let out a noise that can’t decide if it wants to be a laugh or a groan as I nod. “I just can’t stop thinking about it all.”
“Want help?”
“With what?”
“To stop thinking about it for a while. We could distract you.”
The room is dim, but my vision is adjusting to the darkness enough to make out his shadowy face. His eyes gleam in the moonlight that slips through the blinds, and there’s a rough edge to his voice that makes a slow burn of arousal spread through me.
The last time we did something to take our minds off everything we’re up against, I ended up fucking River in front of all three of the other kings, and the memory of that night turns the slow burn inside me into a torrent of fire.
“Yes. Please.”
I’m reaching for him even as I say the words, and his lips meet mine in a kiss that curls my toes. Chase kisses with the same sort of energy and gusto that he lives his life with, and it’s easy to get swept up in it, carried away by the feel of his lips and teeth and tongue.
When Dax brushes the hair off my shoulder and nips at my neck, I jerk and let out a strangled noise into Chase’s mouth.
Dax chuckles. “What? You thought I’d just lie here and watch while you kiss my brother like that?”
I squirm between them, kissing Chase harder as Dax’s words seem to travel straight to my clit. I’m still lying on my back, Chase’s upper body partially draped over mine, as Dax pushes back the covers slightly. I can feel him moving, but I can’t see quite what he’s doing, and I can’t make myself pull away from Chase long enough to look.
A second later, I find out anyway.
Large hands slide up under the oversized t-shirt I’m wearing, caressing the flat plane of my stomach and the roundness of my hips. When they reach the rolled waistband of my pants, two fingers hook the sides.
“Jesus. You look so fucking sexy in these. I like you in my clothes.”
Dax’s voice is muffled beneath the blanket, and I can’t tell if he’s really talking to me or just lost in his own thoughts, speaking them aloud.
I roll my hips restlessly, grabbing Chase’s shoulders and holding on tight as my tongue battles with his. When Dax tugs on the shorts, I shift my weight to help him pull them down, and then I feel him scoot even lower on the bed to settle between my legs, his hands gliding over my hips and down my thighs, mapping every inch of me.
They didn’t give me any underwear.
I was going commando in Dax’s shorts, and now I’m completely bared to him. H
e hasn’t even touched my pussy yet, and between the darkness of the room and the fact that he’s buried underneath the blankets, I doubt he can see much of anything down there.
But I can feel his focus on me like a laser, warming my skin, making me whimper into Chase’s greedy mouth.
When Dax finally grips my thighs and holds them open, I brace myself for the sensations I know are about to sweep me away. And when his tongue darts out and finds my already throbbing clit, brushing hard strokes across it, I rip my mouth away from Chase’s, biting my lower lip to muffle a raw cry.
“With me, Low. Stay with me.” Chase shifts on his elbow, using two fingers to turn my face back toward him. His grin beams in the darkness, like a sexy-as-fuck Cheshire cat. “And you can let go of your lip. You don’t have to worry about making noise. Nobody but us can hear you, and I promise you, we like it.”
Dax is still lapping at my clit like it’s his favorite kind of candy, and a flush of pleasure fills my body as I stare up into Chase’s eyes, completely drawn in by him.
With me, he said.
He wants to see. He wants to know what his brother is doing to me, wants to watch it on my face, feel it in my body.
I’m not used to this. I’ve had guys go down on me before, but never like this. Never when there was another boy present to witness my reaction to it, to absorb my pleasure and feed it back to me through hot, demanding kisses.
I like it.
No, fuck that. I love it.
It intensifies the feelings billowing through me, as if the number of bodies touching mine increases every sensation exponentially. As if sharing our pleasure makes it grow.
Dax’s tongue licks up and down my pussy, sliding over my folds before finding my clit again, and when he slips a finger inside me, my hips buck off the bed. I haul Chase’s head down to meet mine, kissing him desperately, hungrily—as though if I can just kiss him hard enough, I’ll be able to survive the sensations pummeling my body.
I’m not sure I will though.
I’ve been tense as a taut wire all day, and now it feels like I’m about to snap.
I can’t catch my breath, and I suck in gulps of air every time Chase and I break apart for a second. My fingernails scratch at the fabric of his worn t-shirt, scraping over the banded muscles underneath, and my hips lift off the mattress again, riding Dax’s face without an ounce of shame.
