Gabe helps me, which is good, because I’mstarting to feel achy and also the consistency of jelly. King teases my nipple with a gentle flick and then a firm pinch. Bittersweet pain zings out from the needy point, a starburst that buzzes along my nerve endings. Somehow, it kick-starts my pleasure.
My core tightens, and Alex and Gabe groan in unison.
“Fuck! Coming—” Gabe says, hips sliding just a little tighter to my ass.
Alex grabs one of my hips and thrusts upward, against me, against Gabe, growling through his own release. Their muscles tighten around me. Mercy, I thought I was full before, but that was nothing.
King releases the pressure on my nipple, and the rush of blood sends just the right message to my lust-drunk brain. Suddenly, I’m flying. Soaring through the sky, floating on a cloud of bliss. Crying out as I shatter.
Around me, my guys are breathing hard, murmuring sweet words, petting my skin. They’re the only thing tethering me to this space and time.
I collapse against Alex’s chest, lulled to sleep by his steady heartbeat and veins full of potent hormones. This is the perfect spot for an afternoon nap.
???
An unfamiliar noise wakes me.
Blinking away the sleep, I reach out for my men.
My men.
I smile because how freaking lucky am I?
But my smile falls when my hand meets cool linens. I’m alone in the bed, which feels odd after being wrapped up in their heat for so long.
Sitting up, I glance around, gaze immediately zeroing in on the red and pink rose petals dotting the foot of the bed. What in the world? Excitement fills me from the toes up, a soft, fizzy feeling that only comes with welcome surprises.
I find a white robe draped over the edge of the mattress and slip into it, then follow the trail of petals across the room, through the double doors, and down the hall. There’s a murmur of masculine voices and a background of silky smooth French love songs.
When people say, ‘If he wanted to, he would,’ this should be the textbook example.
Kingston, who hates New York City and the claustrophobia it brings with it, is finding a way to thrive there. Opening his heart not just to me but to Gabe as well. Homing in on his passions and taking those next steps.
He’s traded most of his social media fame for teaching workshops. And there’s been a lot of design in our lives these last few months.
Alex wrestled his fear and won, finally taking what he truly wanted. Finally building the family he always desired.
And then, there’s Gabe. So many uphill battles. But so much progress. So many apologies and sweet gestures and making space in his life not just for me and King and Alex but also for healing. And growing
They wanted to, so they did. And I never really even had to ask.
The hall gives way to a spacious living room, windows on either side and a round seating arrangement in the middle. Beneath the ambient lighting is a dress form displaying an incredible white gown.
Gabe, King, and Alex jump to their feet, forming a line even with the dress. My feet stumble to a stop, and my jaw drops at the sight, heart racing like I swam all the way from the shore.
They’re wearing tuxedos.
Petals cover the floor and scent the air.
Gabe elbows King, who glances at him in bewilderment. A lightbulb goes off, and his eyes widen, then he pats his pockets. He pulls out a little black card, a remote, I realize, as dozens of flameless candles flicker to life across every surface in the room.
“Wow…” I whisper, utterly enchanted.
He steps forward, putting the remote away, holding out his other hand to me.
“I feel wildly underdressed for whatever this is,” I murmur, placing my hand in his.
“Pshhhh… you’re adorable.” He tugs me forward but gives nothing away. Nothing concrete, anyway. The way his eyes sparkle, crinkling at the corners, and the tight squeeze of my fingertips say he’s terribly excited.
