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Hammer grimaced. “Beck?”
“That dodgy prick isn’t touching her.”
“I know. We’ll be more collected after dinner.”
Liam rested his arms on the railing beside his friend, bowing his head. “We have to be.”
Hammer snared his gaze. “She’s responding.”
“Can’t deny that.” And wasn’t that a double-edged sword?
“Are you all right with that?”
“If she learns to open up, then it’s best for her.” Liam shrugged. “There’s nothing else to say.”
Macen clapped him on the shoulder. “I know this is hard on you, but I respect what you’re doing for Raine.”
A couple of ugly replies came to mind, almost like a knee jerk. Liam shoved them down. Petty had no place here now. If he was being honest, as hard as it was to watch Hammer touch Raine, he also felt deep comfort in having his friend back.
“Thanks. Let’s find a cup of coffee. Once she’s dressed, we’ll send Seth up to make sure she doesn’t let her fingers put out her fire.”
“Best idea you’ve had all day. Because this bath…” He shook his head.
“It was a bloody hard exercise in restraint.” Liam grinned. “Shut your whining mug and let’s go.”
Under the vanity lights in the master bath, Raine guided the little brush through her lashes, applying her mascara in a daze. To say that today had been mind-blowing was like saying the North Pole was cold. Liam and Hammer had both topped her—and touched her—at the same time. No one was bloody or bruised, screaming, shouting, or throwing punches. The next World War hadn’t commenced. In fact, they’d seemed to enjoy taking care of her together.
Liam and Hammer had once been friends, but she’d mostly seen them mix as well as oil and water until today. Sure, they’d behaved civilly enough before Liam collared her, but Hammer’s aloofness had even extended to his best friend, and she’d witnessed Liam’s frustration and hurt. Today everything had been different, and Raine couldn’t put her finger on why. Yes, they’d agreed to put aside their differences to help her, but their rapport now didn’t feel like a forced compromise. It felt more like a kinship, like they’d fallen into a comfortable brotherhood.
Absently putting the wand back in the tube of mascara, she wound it closed and glanced at her appearance. She’d pass muster for dinner. Dark curls framed her flushed cheeks and trailed to her breasts. Red gloss sheened her slightly swollen lips.
In the mirror, she looked the same, but everything inside felt raw, confused, yearning. Different. The need they’d incited breathed just under her skin, lying in wait to hurtle her into aching desire again with their next touch. It was a miracle she hadn’t begged them for relief.
What would it be like to spend every day between them, wrapped in their care, the center of their lives? It sounded ludicrous—mostly because it was—but it was her fantasy. No way she could deny how perfectly happy and whole everything they’d done today made her feel. She’d better enjoy it because it probably wouldn’t last.
“Raine, time for dinner!” Seth shouted up the stairs.
“Be right there,” she called back, shoving her makeup in its case and turning off her curling iron.
She wasn’t really hungry, but when the watchful Dom had left her a few minutes ago to check on the meal, Raine figured she wouldn’t have long to sort out her thoughts alone. Nice to know that something about this day had been predictable.
Raine dashed out of the bedroom, her bare feet padding down the stairs. The scent of something delicious wafted in the air, and the little growl of her stomach surprised her. Then again, she hadn’t eaten much the entire day—too bewildered to consume the big breakfast she’d cooked and too confused to do more than nibble at lunch. The anxiety and arousal simmering inside her would probably kill her appetite for dinner as well. But if she spent the evening surrounded by Hammer and Liam, wrapped in their affection, she really didn’t care.
From the kitchen, she heard Beck’s boisterous laughter and sighed. So dinner wasn’t going to be a quiet evening for three. She had no idea what was on the agenda, but since Hammer and Liam had “requested” she wear this sheer black baby-doll, Raine had her suspicions. Great, more sexual teasing. How the hell was she going to survive even another minute of feeling like an orgasmic time bomb?
Tugging at the lace tickling the tops of her thighs, she shoved back her self-consciousness. Why hadn’t they given her some damn flannel pajamas?
Drawing in a deep breath, Raine rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped. The four Doms stood, their chairs scraping the hardwood floor. She felt every eye on her, eating up her exposed flesh, and forced herself to stand with her head up and shoulders squared—and ignore that fluttery feeling inside her.
