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“Yes, it will. I fucking promise.”
Somehow, I expected him to say that. Maybe it’s because these men are all so fucking determined, and I’ve never once seen them back down from an idea they believed in. Maybe it’s because even in this moment of softness, Ryland still has to be a stubborn, rigid ass. But whatever the reason, I’m not surprised by his words.
I am, however, knocked completely off balance by what he does next.
Still holding my gaze, he drops his head and clasps my face in both hands, tilting my chin up. Then he presses his lips to mine.
This man is all hardness.
All taut fury and straight lines
.
He’s stubborn and callous and harsh.
But none of those things are in this kiss.
This is the gentlest kiss I’ve ever received, a soft, barely there brush of his lips against mine—as if he believes all those things he told me so much that even now, he’s trying to pull away from me. To protect me from himself.
I lift my head higher, lengthening my spine as much as I can to press my mouth harder against his. His body tenses, and for just a heartbeat, the kiss morphs into more. For just an instant, his lips turn possessive and demanding, full of pent-up need.
Then the beast is locked back in its cage, and he pulls away.
He blinks, looking almost as surprised as I am by what just happened. Then something settles over his face—the same expression he wore when he watched Marcus fuck me and Theo kiss me.
As if he’s looking at the most precious object in the world, but it’s enclosed behind a glass case.
As if he’s looking at something he will never, ever have.
His hands stay on my face for a moment longer, thumbs brushing softly over my cheekbones as if he can’t tear himself away. Then he drops them and steps back, offering me his arm to help me slide off the bed.
“Come on. Marcus and Theo have been waiting for you to wake up. We need to talk. You deserve some answers.”
Chapter 22
Answers.
Fucking finally.
My mind is reeling from all the new information Ryland just dropped on me, but there’s still so much I don’t know. And I’d rather risk brain overload than go another minute without getting my questions answered.
Marcus and Theo are standing near the entryway in the small living room. Both men look up when we enter the sparse room, and I have a sudden vivid memory of their faces hovering above mine—Marcus’s cock still inside me and Theo’s taste on my lips.
A flush of heat moves up my chest, and I can’t tell if it’s embarrassment or lingering desire. Maybe a little of both.
That entire encounter feels like a dream, in a way, something that happened to someone else. In that moment, nothing seemed as important as keeping these three men with me, but now, with some of my shock fading and reality settling in, I wonder if it was a massive mistake. Another hit of the drug I can’t seem to resist.
In a party of addicts, does anyone ever say stop?
Marcus’s expression is serious, and his gaze drops to the proprietary way Ryland is holding my arm, something flickering in his eyes.
Then he gestures toward a worn couch in the middle of the room. Ryland directs me toward it, sinking onto the cushions next to me, and Theo and Marcus sit on the heavy-looking wooden coffee table in front of it, putting us all in a rough circle.
Marcus’s gaze travels up and down my body, and I get the sense that even though they’ve all had plenty of time to examine me while I slept, he’s still checking me for signs of injury. Not finding anything other than the red marks left by the bands of tape, he steeples his fingers together and rests his forearms on his thighs.
“What happened, angel? From the minute we left my house until the minute we found you. I need you to tell me everything that happened.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. I thought I was about to get some goddamn answers here, and instead, I’m getting more questions.
