God, it’s been too long since I’ve been with any of the guys intimately. After Landon was stabbed, I found that I couldn’t. I was too racked by worry and guilt. Then, when he was recovering, I decided it wasn’t fair to be with anyone else, not until he was one hundred percent again.
I was being an idiot.
I know that now.
My aversion to sex wasn’t about Landon or any of the guys, if I’m being completely honest. It had to do with me.
I… I killed someone. Again. Me. I killed someone, and I watched the man I love bleed out, and I was sold, and it all became too much. I don’t want to say I shut down, because I didn’t, but a part of me pushed away every little thing that would’ve made me happy. It was like I didn’t believe I deserved it.
But I do deserve it.
I deservethem.
My heart quickens, thundering erratically, and I bring my fisted hand to my chest.
When did I come to this revelation?
I can’t say for sure, but admitting it to myself is freeing. Liberating. A homecoming.
I.
Deserve.
Them.
Quickly, I scrub at my face and use a comb to untangle my brown hair. There are toothpaste and toothbrushes still in boxes, and I hesitate only briefly before opening one up. I brush my teeth, feeling infinitely better after the few minutes of primping.
I leave the cloak on the floor and return to my guys.
All of them have already removed their own cloaks, leaving them in the corner of the room. Beckett wears a gray cotton shirt that looks absolutely delicious on him, the thin material clinging to every dip and crevice of his muscles. Dom’s wearing red, and the color is a startling contrast to his platinum-blond hair and striking green eyes.
And Zane?
The bastard is shirtless.
I find myself licking my lips as I take in his bare bronzed skin. And is that…? Is that a bandage on his chest? What the hell happened?
Panic overrides coherent thoughts, and I’m moving before I can think better of it, halting directly before him. Wordlessly, I trail a hand up his corded abdomen, my fingers trailing across every accentuated muscle, stopping when I reach the expanse of skin just before the bandage.
“If you wanted to feel me up,princesa, you only needed to ask.” Zane’s voice is husky. His eyes have darkened to an onyx smolder.
“Are you hurt?” I ask somewhat breathlessly.
His brows draw together. “Hurt?” He glances down, as if only just noticing the bandage on his chest, and a wicked smirk curls up his lips. “No, I’m not hurt. This is your next surprise.”
“My next surprise?” I stare at him, confusion thrumming inside of me, but before he can respond, I spot movement in my peripheral, just outside the bedroom window.
Dom and Beckett notice as well and charge forward, their mouths tight.
“What the fuck?” I breathe, staring in horror at the masked figure crouched on the tree branch directly before us. Fear squeezes my throat in an iron vise, making it impossible to suck in a full breath.
Dom wrenches open the window, practically vibrating with an elemental fury, the type capable of burning enemies alive, conjuring storms out of nothing and causing tsunamis to sweep through entire cities.
“You have five seconds before I kill you,” he warns, his voice a growl.
“You could at least ask him what he’s doing here,” I mutter. “Or maybe his name.”
Beckett releases a long-suffering sigh. “Ellie, we plan to kill him.”
