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Distant Light - Reverse Harem Romance (Tales From the Edge Book 1)

Page 10

by Chloe Adler


  “Miss . . . ?”

  “Courtney,” she purrs.

  “Courtney, you are lovely, no doubt about it—”

  “Thank you. Come take some then. Or if you’d rather . . . ?” She raises her brows at me.

  “I apologize, Courtney, but I only have eyes for another.”

  “That doesn’t seem to be stopping you.” She eyes the bulge in my pants, then takes a step closer. “I can take care of that. I want to take care of that.”

  Before I can move, the woman drops to her knees in front of my package, reaching for the zipper of my leather pants.

  Grabbing her wrists, I hold her still, gentle, but implacable. “I said I’m not interested.” My eyes hold hers until she looks away, a faint red flushing her cheeks.

  “What man says no to head?” she mumbles, pulling her hands away from me, and stumbling to her feet.

  “This has nothing to do with you,” I grate. “I told you, my heart belongs to another.” I’m used to my bulk making people cower, which is why I’m trying to be gentle with her. Unfortunately, she takes my kindness as an invitation despite my words and presses her body against mine. I’m a hetero man and my body can’t help but respond to her, my bulge straining against the leather. Her arms wrap around my neck in the same way Iphi’s did only moments ago. Her bare breasts rub up and down my T-shirt and she nuzzles my neck with her nose. I’ve wrapped my hands around her waist and am tugging her away when the door opens.

  “Oh.” Iphi’s voice is high and breathy, tinged with sadness. “I didn’t realize you were . . . engaged. Sorry.” The door closes softly and I bite back a curse.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Iphigenia

  I blink rapidly, trying to rid myself of the scene I just witnessed. Drunk on the music, adrenaline, and freedom, I followed Thorn to the back, wanting to know just how he’d take care of his erection. And whether he wanted help. But someone beat me to it.

  And what of it? Thorn is a man free to make love to any woman. I want to be happy for him, that this beautiful, petite, topless brunette was pressed up against him.

  But . . . I’m not happy. The girl who is happy for everyone. The girl who prides herself on never judging others. For once, the role chafes, strangling me in my own skin.

  I rush around Promise, not dancing, eyes unable to focus on the throngs of bodies gyrating to the music. What the hell was I thinking? Where is Burgundy? The other guys? I need to get that picture out of my mind.

  “Iphigenia?”

  I whirl around to face him, those dark eyes clouded with something I can’t identify.

  “I’m sorry, Thorn.” I turn away. I can’t look at him and I don’t know what to say past that.

  “What are you sorry for? I’m the one who’s sorry.” He touches my chin with just one finger, enticing my gaze back up. The intensity in his eyes finally blocks out the image of that girl.

  “Why are you—” But his head leans down and my own strains up to meet his. Our lips touch and before that moment, I hadn’t realized how much I wanted this. Him. The taste of him sears through my core, like a rope wrapped too tightly around my body as I drop to a stage a thousand feet below. Except this burning, his heat, is the opposite of painful. I let him take my mouth, unable to hold back a moan as I mold myself to his body. His arms fold around me, pulling me tighter while his tongue darts out, parting my lips. Painfully slow, he licks them, tracing each contour, and I lean my head back, gasping for air. Thorn mistakes my movement and steps back, leaving only a hand on my shoulder as I wobble on my feet.

  “Iphigenia, are you okay?”

  “I think so.” I’m trembling and confused. I want more of this man, but I also feel torn. What about Rhys? Caspian? How can I want all three? And what will they do when they find out?

  “There you are.” Rhys moves next to me, reaching for my hand as if I called him out of the ether with my thoughts. Bending down, he brushes a strand of hair off my cheek and kisses me there.

  I shake my head at him and then at Thorn. Pulling my hand out of Rhys’s grasp, I turn and run through the club until I spot my friend dancing with her lovers.

  “Burgundy.”

  “Iphi, what’s happened? Did someone try to hurt you?”

  I shake my head. “I want to go home. Can you take me?”

  “Of course.” She holds on to my arm, leaning in to whisper to her lovers. They nod and smile, waving her off.

  I follow her to the car and climb into the passenger seat.

  “Do you really want to go home?”

  I shake my head.

  “How about some dessert?”

  With a wobbly smile, I climb back out of Cherry and we walk to Confections. I blink against the bright lights inside, a welcome contrast to the darkness outside and the dim lights in Promise. “Can we sit in the back?”

  She leads, passing a cluster of high school kids giggling around a pile of ice cream sundaes.

  Finding a back booth, she slides in. “Do you want to grab something first?”

  “Yeah. My treat. What do you want?”

  “Tres leches cake, please, and a cup of coffee.” She grins and I cluck my tongue. Why did I even ask?

  After I grab a slice of cake and a coffee for her and that amazing apple fritter for me, I return and take the seat next to her.

  She cuts to the chase. “Did something happen at Promise that upset you?”

  I nod, sucking on a spoonful of apple sugar. “I don’t know what’s going on with me or those men.”

  She cocks her head, spearing a bite of her cake with her fork.

  “I have feelings for them.”

  She drops the fork as a mad grin overtakes her face. “All of them?”

  “Not all, but more than one. How can that be? And what should I do? I mean, how do I choose?”

  “Why choose?”

  I hold up a finger. “One, I doubt they’re going to want to share.” I add my middle finger. “Two, what would people say?” I tap my ring finger. “Three, how would I juggle them?” I hold up my pinky. “And four, my mother would disown me.”

  “Are you asking me or telling me?”

  “I have no idea what the hell I’m doing right now.” I drop my head into my hands.

  “Sweetie,” she peels one of my hands back, “what if there were no boundaries around this? What if . . .” She holds up her index finger. “They were fine with sharing you.” She holds up her next one. “No one else cared.” She holds up her third finger. “There is no juggling; it just works.” She holds up her pinky. “Aurelia is not part of this equation.”

  I sigh and bite the inside of my cheek. “What’s it like being in a relationship with two people at the same time?”

  “So you are interested in being in a thruple? With two of the hotties?” Rubbing her hands together she leans toward me. “Which ones?”

  The heat in my face intensifies. “I’m just curious.”

  “That would be so perfect for you, Iphigenia. I can totally see it.”

  I roll my eyes and hold my thick hair up off the back of my neck. Between my Rex impression on the way to Promise and all the dancing, I don’t think there’s a single bobby pin left. I fan myself with a hand. “I’m not even going to ask why you think I could do it. I just wonder how you do.”

  “Are you asking about sexually? In the bedroom? Who’s on top and that sort of thing?”

  “Very funny.” I roll my eyes at her and take another bite of my dessert. “What about the difficulty of it all? The challenges?”

  “No more than your usual couple challenges. There needs to be a lot of open communication and no hidden feelings, that’s the biggest part.”

  “And,” I wave my hand around the restaurant, “what about them?”

  “Them?” She licks her fork suggestively. “Ahh, you’re asking about what other people think and say?”

  I nod.

  “Screw ‘em. People will judge no matter what you do. It’s in their nature. They wil
l judge what you choose to do with your life and they’ll find you wanting. They won’t agree with your choices, even if they would have made the same choices themselves.” She barks out a laugh. “Especially then.”

  “But why?”

  “You know why.” She takes a sip of coffee. “They’re jealous or insecure or too set in their ways, mostly. It usually stems from one of those. But Iphi, they get to live their lives and you get to live yours. This is the life you get to live, if you choose.”

  “You make it sound so easy.” I pick apart a piece of apple with my fingers, the rich dessert suddenly hard to swallow.

  She laughs, deep, rich, right from her belly. “Relationships are never easy. They take a lot of work, constantly, but they’re worth it. Living the life you choose, on the other hand, is easy. But you have to want it and I don’t know if you’re there yet.” She shrugs and eats more of her cake.

  “There you are,” comes a soft voice from behind us. “And you’re eating my favorite dessert.” Caspian slides in next to me and picks a piece of apple off my plate.

  My heart lurches and then free falls all the way to my feet. This is what I was dreaming of and here it is, with the man who almost died because of me.

  I throw my arms around him and bury my face in the warmth of his neck, nuzzling in between his shoulder and his hair. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be resting?”

  “I had to make sure that Thorn didn’t steal you away when I wasn’t watching.”

  Heat crawls up my cheeks. Caspian places his large hand over mine and leans in, his warm breath tickling my ear. “Mmmm, you smell like Thorn. I don’t mind that you made out with him,” he whispers and the heat of his voice shoots sparks of warm pleasure through my arms and legs. Zap. Zap. Zap. “Rhys fixed me all up before everyone left to meet you but I needed a little more time to rest and shower.”

  He places a bite of apple into my mouth, watching as I suck the candied fruit and syrup off his fingers. His pale-blue eyes, bright like moonlight, meet mine and he catches my bottom lip between his teeth. My body and mind are no longer connected and I let myself go for the second time that night. Lost in the moment, I tumble head over feet in an aerial free fall with no mat below to bounce off of, no net to catch me, and no sense left in my own head to pull away.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Iphigenia

  My body is still ringing with Caspian’s kiss when the five of us stand outside together a few minutes later. I’m hardly able to look at Thorn or Caspian. At least Dominic is still inside and not here to dissect me with his gaze again.

  “We’ll make sure she gets home safely,” Rhys says to Burgundy. “You go back and dance with your darlings.”

  Burgundy holds up a finger and pulls me aside. “I won’t leave you unless you want to be left.”

  Instead of answering, I look between her and the men, biting my lip.

  “You want my advice?” she asks. “I won’t give it if you don’t.”

  I nod.

  “Go for it. Stop overthinking everything and look. There are no fisticuffs happening here.” She motions toward the guys. It’s true, they’re all standing around talking, laughing, and ribbing each other like brothers, not like men about to brawl over one indecisive woman. “Let go.”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  Burgundy shrugs one shoulder. “Then it’ll be your loss.”

  I squint at her. It’s too much pressure. How does she know it’ll be my loss anyway? I’ve never even had one real boyfriend. How could I have three?

  “Do you want me to take you home then?” she asks.

  “No, you go back to Promise and enjoy yourself.”

  “I really hope you’re making the choice to go with them because you want to and not because you don’t want to inconvenience me.”

  Am I that transparent? “Go.” I shoo her away and turn back to the men. “Okay, boys, which one of you is taking me home?”

  They all raise their hands, which makes me laugh.

  “You choose,” says Thorn, his dark eyes flashing.

  Does he want me to choose him? After tonight, there’s no question he’s interested in me, too. My head is about to explode from all this male attention and confusion.

  “I can’t,” I say, not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings.

  “All right, we’ll each make our case,” says Rhys. “If you pick me, I’ll give you a back rub.”

  “Oh, man, so unfair,” says Caspian. “That’s my specialty.”

  “I’ll take you on a long motorcycle ride through the hills or hang-gliding over the beach,” says Thorn.

  Caspian growls. “Fine. If you pick me, you can do whatever you want, whenever you want. If you want to go sailing or scuba diving, I’ll take you. If you want a romantic picnic on the beach, I’ll make that happen. A foot or scalp rub, I’m your man. Your choice, seraphim.”

  Holding my arms out to the sides I spin in circles on the boardwalk, throwing my head back and laughing. “What if I pick all of you?” I ask, just to see what they’ll say.

  “Then you’ll get it all,” says Rhys, scooping me up in his arms and spinning me around before passing me to Caspian, who does the same, and then passes me to Thorn. My feet never touch the ground as all three of them spin me, arms held wide.

  When they finally put me down, I’m giggling so hard I have to lean on Thorn’s massive bulk. “Seriously, though, right now you do have to choose because we took separate cars,” he says.

  I look from one man to the next, not wanting to leave anyone out, and my gaze settles on Rhys. If somehow I get caught by Aurelia, at least it’ll be with a man she knows. I cannot imagine her reaction to any of the others. She would seriously lose her shit and turn us all into rats or toads or something. She’s done it before.

  Rhys takes my hand. “Sorry, losers,” he calls to the others but I break away from him to hug each of the guys, starting with Thorn. I press my body close to him, then Caspian, trying not to pant when moisture pools between my legs. Turning away from them isn’t easy.

  I take Rhys’s hand again and he leads me down the pier, into a parking lot, and to his Thunderbird. Unlocking the door for me, he holds it open until I slide in.

  “So where can I give you that back rub?”

  My window is still open with the screen off and I let out a long sigh of relief. Rhys’s hands are around my waist, lifting me up to the sill. Clamoring in as quietly as I can, I reach my hand back out to help him through but he waves it away, crouches, and jumps through the window. He lands with a soft thud on my bedroom floor. How do I keep forgetting he’s a vampire? Impressive.

  “Impressive,” he says, but he’s talking about my room.

  My face warms but for the first time I’m glad I never had a typical little girl’s room. My sisters used to make fun of me but I always suspected they were a tad jealous that my taste grew up faster than theirs. Or maybe that’s just what I told myself to keep from feeling completely different. While my peers stuffed their spaces overnight with pallets of IKEA furniture, I saved and scrimped for real pieces, adding one precious antique at a time, starting with my mahogany four-poster bed. So there, Rhys. Here’s something I did all for me.

  “Shall we get started?” Rhys whispers, so close to my hair it sends tingles down my spine.

  This is the first time in my entire life that I’m actually doing something very wrong in my mother’s house. Sneaking out was bad enough, but now I’ve brought a man home to touch me. But where else can I go? Surely, Mother would rather Rhys give me a massage in the safety of my own house than, say, some skeezy motel room.

  Keeping my sundress on, I remove my shoes, pull back the covers, and push aside the pillows I had propped there for the spell. Lying on my bed facedown, I let out a shaky breath.

  Thankfully, he doesn’t tell me to remove my dress, but a moment later he’s straddling me and I let out a little squeal.

  “Shit. Am I too heavy or does this make you uncomfor
table?” he asks.

  “No. You just surprised me. Go ahead.”

  Rhys’s strong hands push over the back of my sundress, kneading the skin underneath. The only massages I’ve ever had were at the circus, sitting on a chair, but even so I know you aren’t supposed to have a full-body one over clothing.

  “Hey, lemme get up for a minute,” I say and he jumps off. “You’re not supposed to do it over clothing, right?”

  “There’s no ‘supposed to,’” he says. “It’s what you’re comfortable with.”

  “Stay there.” I go into my closet and rummage around for something more revealing, yet comfortable. I slip on a backless dress of simple cotton, then return to the bed. “How’s this?”

  “Whatever you choose, I’ll work with. It’s about your pleasure, but yes, that’s great.”

  Smiling at him, I hop back on the bed and resume my position.

  “Do you mind if I use some of this lotion?” He points at the rose body cream sitting on my bedside table.

  “Just don’t get it on my dress.”

  “I’ll try, but no promises.” He squeezes some into his palm and then rubs it on my back.

  I melt into my soft mattress topper and the air leaves my lungs. His big hands slide over my back, pressing against all my sore muscles.

  “Wow, you’re really strong.” His voice is deeper now and a little hoarse. “Can I move the straps aside to reach your shoulders?”

  “Sure.” I wriggle my arms to help and he moves the spaghetti straps over my shoulders and down my arms.

  He starts on my shoulders, rubbing in small circles, expertly pressing on all the sore spots. Clutching my biceps, he squeezes them, clicking his tongue, which makes me giggle. Those rough hands return to the top of my shoulders, then lower, kneading the knots below my shoulder blades. My body melts further into my topper.

  “You’re really good at this,” I murmur as actual drool escapes the corner of my mouth. It’s okay, he can’t see it. As the soothing, rhythmic strokes continue, I get sleepier and sleepier, letting my eyes drift shut.

 

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