by Ivy Asher
“Deliver this to Medley’s parents at the safe house. Have them each drink a glass, and watch over them. Tell them we’ll call when we can. The code word is purple wings.”
The imp nods, takes the bottle, and turns to leave.
“What was that?” I ask.
“It will help them sleep and feel calm. We set up a code word ahead of time with them in case there was an emergency, so they’ll know they can trust the imps. I shifted them to the safe house as soon as it was clear Mickey was compromised, so they’re okay,” he tells me once more, settlin’ my nerves about their wellbein’. “We’ll make sure they’re safe until we can resolve this,” Alder tells me.
Warmth moves through my body at his words and at the lengths that he and Flint have gone to ensure that my mama and daddy are okay.
Emotion squeezes at my throat, and I feel a prickle of tears in my eyes. “Thank you,” I tell both of them. The words are simple and not nearly enough, but they’re all I have right now.
“Of course,” Alder answers simply, like there’s no question that my parents are just as important to him and Flint as they are to me.
Plink.
“So, what now?” I ask.
“As soon as we’re all cleaned up, we’ll be going to visit the other Guardians to demand some answers,” Alder tells me.
“No more waiting for them to pull their heads out. Enough is enough,” Flint agrees with a hard edge to his voice. “They need to tell us what they know, because we’re clearly in the fucking dark.”
Alder grabs a light green mixture from the counter and hands it to me. “Here, drink this.”
“What is it?” I ask, starin’ at the sea green color of the liquid. I like the color in general, but I have a feelin’ this is gonna taste like mold. If I’m gonna drink mold, then I want to know exactly why I’m torturin’ myself.
A small smile lifts the corners of Alder’s mouth, but his features look weary, and his eyes are still banked with a bright but simmering anger. “It will help with the pain and with healing.”
“Okay, I guess down the hatch it goes,” I announce, tryin’ for plucky but landin’ somewhere closer to whiny.
Alder chuckles quietly and just watches me expectantly.
Plink.
I try not to cringe as I bring the elixir to my lips and tilt it up. My mouth fills with the taste of coffee. My eyes widen in surprise, and I tilt my head back to happily drink the entire beaker down.
“Mmmm,” I moan in approval as I hand the now empty beaker back to Alder. “I thought that was gonna taste way worse,” I admit.
A knowin’ glint enters Alder’s eyes, and I watch relief chase away some of the anger and frustration that was just there. “Don’t worry, Medley. I’ll make sure that only good things—pleasurable things—touch those lips.”
His smooth, self-assured tone wraps around me and lightly flicks at all my naughty bits. I clench my thighs, which has Flint wrappin’ his hand around the inside of my leg. “Hold still, Peaches. You have a lot of glass here, and some of it’s very deep.”
I do my best to listen, but between Alder’s sensual words and Flint’s hand now skimmin’ high up on the inside of my thigh, it’s makin’ it hard to focus on anythin’ else.
“Have you heard about this Morax or the Ophidian in any of your dealings?” Flint asks Alder.
“No, nothing substantial. I had a contact who thought they’d heard about a battle at one of the other gates involving someone with a similar name, but I’m waiting for her to get back to me with details.”
“Contact? Her?” I question, and then I have to stomp down the bolt of jealousy that shoots through me.
Alder steps away and grabs a pair of scissors from the bathroom counter.
“Yes, remember when I told you that I don’t just run a bar, I deal in information too,” he tells me evenly.
“Lots of demons will pay very well for the right secrets,” Flint adds. “Alder can find out anything.”
At his words, I recall the conversation we had before about the things Alder does to pass the time. It was buried under a ton of other information that was dumped on me that night, but I can suddenly see Alder sittin’ in the dimly lit corners of the bar, chewin’ the fat with other demons and keepin’ his fingers on the pulse of the goings-on in all the realms. For some reason, I find it incredibly hot. Then again, I think just about everythin’ these two do is hot.
Plink.
“Well, that used to be the case, but I haven’t heard anything about this Ophidian demon or a serious battle at another gate, and I don’t think that’s a coincidence. Many of my contacts have missed meetings over the past month or so. That can happen from time to time, so I didn’t think much of it, but now I’m wondering,” Alder admits with a troubled frown as he steps closer to me and reaches for the hem of my bloody tank top. “I should’ve gotten more information about Delta’s Vestibule battle and her going into Nihil. My gut says this is all connected.”
Deep in thought, he starts to cut the front of my shirt, makin’ it into a vest. Then he cuts the straps at the tops of my shoulders and peels the blood-soaked fabric from my torso. When he moves to cut the skirt off too, I bite down on my squeak of protest. Not even Kanye West could make the holes in this skirt look fashionable.
Plink.
Flint finishes with the glass that was in my thigh and moves down to the side of my knee and calf, his hand skimmin’ down the inside of my leg as he goes.
My breathin’ hitches, and Alder looks up from where he’s cuttin’ my skirt off. “Did that hurt?” he asks, concern poolin’ in his eyes.
“No,” I answer breathlessly, and he studies my face for a moment before he continues to cut.
He carefully unwraps the leather from my hips, steppin’ closer to curl his arms around me as he goes. My thoughts go haywire at his nearness. I should be shakin’ in shock at what happened. My body should be flashin’ me waves of pain as debris is pulled from my skin and muscle, but nope. Why would I react normally when I can get all hot and bothered instead?
Why wouldn’t I get myself all worked up as I bleed slowly where I stand and recover from the attack that just happened? It seems Post-Tribulation Medley is a hornball instead of a worrier.
Apparently, my mind decided dealin’ with the events earlier is just not high up on our list of priorities, but possible orgasms are. I shake my head at my internal reactions and try to rein my unusual neediness in. I mean, I was hopin’ when I put that skirt on that it would tempt one of them to get me out of it. This isn’t exactly what I had in mind, but I’ll take it.
“Medley?” Alder questions again, and I shoo away my thoughts to focus on him. It’s clear he asked me a question, but I have no idea what.
“Who got shot in the what now?” I ask.
Alder’s features fold in confusion. “No one was shot,” he tells me perplexed.
Flint snorts. “No, it’s a saying. It basically means what,” he supplies, lookin’ up at me with a wink, like he’s proud that he knows so much Southern lingo.
“Oh,” Alder states. “Well, I was just asking if you’re comfortable with me removing your bra and underwear. We don’t mean anything untoward by it, but there’s glass in both fabrics,” he tells me, but I see a slight purple blush stainin’ the tops of his sharp cheeks.
My pulse picks up, and it takes a moment to think through his question, because blood seems to be headin’ south instead of feedin’ my brain. All I can do is picture my naked body in front of both of them, their hands skimmin’ over my sensitive flesh. “Yeah, that’s good,” I tell him. “I mean, that’s fine,” I breathlessly correct.
I wonder if it would weird him out to tell him that I want him to get all untoward. Maybe it’s too soon. I still have blood on me, after all.
I seriously have no idea why I feel such an intense need to get my dick on right now, but I do. Lord, I do. Those panties he wants to cut off? They’re wet. That can’t be normal, right? The word demon fla
shes in my mind like a bar sign that flickers on and off, but I shrug that off. I don’t see Alder and Flint goin’ all hard and goo-goo eyed, so maybe I can’t blame this one on what I am. Maybe I’m just so damn attracted to them that, as my adrenaline drained away, it stripped me down to nothin’ but lust and a need to work out my stress from the night.
The feel of the metal scissors skimmin’ low on my hips traps my gaze as Alder begins to cut my thong off. The smooth sound of the lacy fabric being snipped away by the sharp sears sends goosebumps over my belly.
Plink.
My heart feels like it’s slowly climbin’ up my throat as Alder moves to my other hip and snips the line of fabric there too. I don’t even hear him breathin’, like his inhale is caught in his chest, too. I’m completely aware of his barely-there touch where his finger is pinchin’ the fabric away from my skin, and where Flint is still holdin’ my leg.
With both sides cut, Alder slowly grips the strip of underwear, and bit by bit, it’s pulled from my ass and between my thighs. There’s somethin’ erotic and wicked about the feel of what he’s doin’, and desire floods me despite my efforts to tamp it down. When the cool air hits my bare, damp center, I have to suppress a moan. As soon as the panties are gone, I feel Flint’s hand tighten on my leg, his fingers diggin’ in hard. I trap my bottom lip between my teeth at the heat comin’ from his palm.
Plink.
More glass is pulled from around my ankle and dropped into the bowl. Luckily, these pieces are smaller, though I still don’t feel a thing.
Clearin’ his throat with a raspy grumble, Alder moves in closer, his height loomin’ over me as his fingers skate up to gently grasp the strap of my bra. “Almost done,” he says, but his voice is low and strained.
My eyes flick up to his face, but his attention is on my shoulder, and I watch as he swallows hard and slips the shears beneath my strap. Cool metal grazes over my hot skin as he makes the snip. He shifts to touch my other shoulder, snippin’ that strap next, and my chest heaves, my breasts risin’ and fallin’ with every breath as both straps fall uselessly against my chest.
He moves behind me until I can feel his hands on my back and his breath on my neck. My legs feel a little weak, but it has nothin’ to do with the fight. Alder’s fingers dig beneath the back strap, and my nipples pebble like they’re strainin’ to push the bra off and greet the air and their eyes. I feel the scissors slip in, and he’s so careful not to cut me.
One more snip, and I feel the bra loosen and start to fall. He catches the mangled and bloodied lacy fabric in his hand and drops it to join my thong, tank top, and skirt on the floor.
I breathe deeply as I try to think through the lust and vulnerability I feel right now, standin’ completely naked in front of two demons I’m wildly attracted to. I’ve tried to be rational, to tell myself that attraction is a bad idea, especially when there’s so much up in the air right now. But I can’t help it. Right now, all I can think about are the things I’d like to do with these two right here in the shower, and I’m not even sorry.
I stand frozen, the heat of Alder at my back, surroundin’ me and nearly makin’ my eyes roll to the back of my head. It’s nearly an out-of-body experience, except I’m so inside of myself that all I can do is feel. He’s so still, and when I look down, his hands are clenched into fists, like it’s takin’ everythin’ in him not to touch me.
“Please…” I say, the word passin’ out of my lips in a breathy hitch.
Alder’s hands lift up, and I feel the barest touch as he moves my hair over my shoulder, before placin’ a whisper of a kiss onto the side of my exposed neck. But just as I sway toward him, my body actin’ on its own, his lips are gone and he’s taken a step back from me, makin’ me whimper from the loss of him.
“She’s going through an itch,” Alder announces, his voice even gruffer than before.
“I know. I can smell it too,” Flint answers, his voice and face tense as he drops another glass shard into the bowl.
My brows pull together. “I’m not itchy,” I defend, bewildered as more need pours into my body.
“Not that kind of itchy, Medley,” Alder says. “You’re experiencing what demons call an itch. It happens to some of us when our adrenaline spikes and we fight. An itch is the extreme emotions that can occur afterward. Some demons experience rage, or sorrow, some have an intense sense of clarity...and some feel an extreme level of arousal.”
Ding, ding, ding, a winner’s bell goes off in my head. I know which one I’m experiencin’.
“Just try to breathe through it, Peaches. It should calm down soon,” Flint tells me, but his nickname for me suddenly makes me think of that song that used to play on the radio on throwback night, called “Peaches and Cream,” and they weren’t talkin’ about a dessert in that song, that’s for damn sure.
“Here’s the thing,” I start as I stare into Alder’s beautiful eyes. “I don’t want to breathe through it. I’d much rather the two of you get naked with me, and we orgasm our way to glory. Doesn’t that just sound like a more fun way to take care of my itch?”
Flint groans, but it’s the kind of groan you make when someone offers you a bite of rich chocolate cake and you’re supposed to be on a diet.
“Flint, you’re in the perfect position to start on my peach,” I tell him with a flirty smile, hopin’ I just tainted his nickname forever with thoughts of my vagina. “And Alder, now that you got me naked, you can play with the front porch and kiss me stupid,” I tell him, pointin’ to my hard nipples and the needy heaviness in my breasts. “Ready, team, and break,” I announce like some football coach reject.
A grin spreads across Alder’s lips, but he must’ve not heard me right because those beauties are supposed to be doin’ other things aside from smilin’.
“May the Morning Star guide me, because I swear to fuck, Alder, I don’t know if I can say no,” Flint confesses, his head hangin’ down and his eyes on the bowl of glass, like he doesn’t trust himself to look at me.
“Good, then don’t,” I tell him cheerily as I start hummin’ “Peaches and Cream.”
Flint looks up at Alder, his face pleadin’.
But to my giant disappointment and embarrassment, Alder shakes his head. “We can’t. Not like this. You know what an itch is like. You’re not in your right mind. If we do, and it’s something she regrets, we could fuck things up beyond repair. We have to do this right with her. No rushing. And we have to put the needs of the Gate first,” he tells Flint.
An irritated snort shoots out of me. “I want it, so don’t go gettin’ all chivalrous on me now,” I counter.
Alder crosses his arms and looks at me with determination. But if he thinks that’s gonna help deter me, he’s dead wrong. He should’ve picked up on the fact that I like that scowl he makes when his forearms are flexed like that. It does so many things for me.
I step forward until my naked breasts are pressed right against said forearms. “Believe me, I’ve been wantin’ it for way longer than right now in the bathroom with a demon itch,” I tell him, my eyes glitterin’ with both challenge and unmistakable lust.
His eyes bank with heat, droppin’ down to my heavin’ breasts, and he bites on his lip as he watches my nipples press against his skin. “Fuck,” Alder announces as he quickly drops his arms. Cheers go off inside of me because I’m sure I just won.
He scoops me up and carries me to a bench in the shower and sets me down. Alright, shower sex it is. I place my hands on my knees and spread my legs wide, ready for his mouth to—I squeal as ice-cold water suddenly pours over me from the showerhead positioned in the ceilin’.
“What the hell?” I object as frigid water dumps down on me, shockin’ my senses and pissin’ me right off. Alder just looks at me, those damn arms crossed again.
I scowl. “I’m still horny as hell, so the only thing this cold shower nonsense is doin’ is makin’ me decide to force you to watch while I ride Flint’s cock. That’ll teach you to look a gift-vagina
in the crotch.” I pause. There’s no way that’s the sayin’, but I can’t for the life of me think of what it’s supposed to be.
Flint chuckles and then once again moves to my feet and quickly works to pull the rest of the glass from my skin. Water soaks him in no time, clothes and all, and he looks how my pussy feels...wet and ready.
I angle my spread thighs for him, so he can get a nice long look at my promised land. Flint grinds his jaw and starts grumblin’ to himself.
I frown. What the hell? He should be usin’ that tongue on other things besides talkin’ right now.
Fingers lace themselves in my hair, and I look up to find Alder pourin’ shampoo in his palm. Okay, I can work with this. Alder will wash my hair, but when the bubbles fall on my chest, he’ll have no choice but to wash those off too. Then Flint will give in and dive face-first between my thighs. After several orgasms, I’ll drop to my knees and take turns suckin’ both of their cocks until we all fuck long and hard and then take a good nap.
Sounds perfect.
A yawn works its way through me all of a sudden, but I try to shake off the drowsiness that’s come over me and focus back on my to-do list for this shower sex-a-thon that I’m plannin’. Alder rinses out the soap in my hair while the water gets rid of the last of the blood, but I’m hit with another wave of tiredness, and I yawn again.
“Thank the fucking Rings of Hell, it’s kicking in,” Alder says, lettin’ out a ragged sigh.
“What is?” I ask, my question punctuated with another jaw-crackin’ yawn.
“The tonic I gave you earlier,” he explains.
I blink, but my eyelids are heavy. “Hold up, you said that was for pain and healin’,” I argue.
“It is. The best way for you to heal is with deep, uninterrupted sleep,” he counters.
My brow furrows. “But I want interrupted sleep. A whole lot of it, with both of you. So many interruptions,” I tell him, feelin’ my limbs turn to Jell-O.
They don’t say a thing.
“Wait. Y’all don’t...want me?” I ask, my voice small and hurt.
I close my knees and bring my hands up to cover my naked chest, the cold water makin’ me feel vulnerable as embarrassment floods me. The lusty fire that was in my blood turns to ice. I’ve been throwin’ myself at these two, but they were just waitin’ for the tonic to take effect so they could be rid of me?
