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“We’re already shacked up together,” Matt put in.
She scrunched up her mouth. “We live in separate quarters. That’s not what we’re talking about. What exactly are you suggesting? That we share a big-ass bed, hold hands when we walk down the street in our small town? Do you honestly think I can tell my mom that I’m— that we’re—”
“Yes.” Tristan’s gaze bored into hers. “All I’m asking for is for you to be honest about what you want and what we’re about. The rest will fall into place in time.”
“But what about Matt’s mom? And your parents? You know how your dad is, Tristan. Big-time hunter, a complete man’s man. He wouldn’t know how to classify…this.”
“Call us whatever you want,” Tristan said evenly, “but it doesn’t change the reality of what you need.”
How could he possibly know what she needed when she didn’t even know herself?
She bowed her head and stared miserably at her lap. “You’re asking me for more than I can give.”
“No, we’re not. We’re just asking you to be who you are, with us. That’s all.” He reached up to brush his fingers over her hair, and her stomach pitched as if she were going to be sick.
“Take me to bed,” she whispered. “And let me forget for a little while. Please.” She’d begged before, but not like this. Not as if her heart was breaking.
In a very real way, it was. The worst of it was she’d helped instigate her own heartbreak. She’d been the one to come up with the plan to sleep with them, the one who’d insisted on watching them make love. So eager to steal slices of them they hadn’t given her willingly, she’d risked everything she valued most. Her friends, her work, her home.
Her life, in the truest sense of the word.
Tristan moved behind her chair to release the ropes. Once she was free, Matthew scooped her up in his arms just as he’d done earlier. But now the gesture made a lump rise in her throat as she pressed her face into his neck. She clung to him, the thick cords of his biceps rippling under her touch. He carried her through a short, dim hallway, entering the first doorway and lowering her to a huge, cloud-soft bed. A plush comforter rustled under her back, and she moaned, her body keen for even the slightest sensation.
“Do your arms hurt?” he questioned, cradling her close as he rolled onto the bed beside her.
“No.” She didn’t mind the slight sting of pain from being bound. It gave her something concrete to focus on rather than the dismal state of her…what?
Love life? Sex life? Just life, period?
The only part of her that stung in anything but a pleasurable way was her heart, but she didn't tell him that.
Tristan walked around to the other side of the bed, still carrying the rope, and that thrilling bite of fear surged through her once more. “You’re going to tie me up again?” she asked breathlessly.
He didn’t answer, tossing the rope aside as if he were annoyed with it. Then he knelt on the bed, his gaze raking her naked curves before he crawled over to her and Matt. He pushed her onto her back and braced his arms on either side of her shoulders as he ranged his body over hers, nudging his cock against her in the most intimate way possible.
With the slightest flex, he’d be buried inside her without a condom. And she didn’t even possess the strength to tell him no.
Had she really thought she had some control here? For once she didn’t have to think until her head ached. She could just be. Just do what came naturally and to hell with the consequences.
She was on the pill. And it would feel so incredible, having all of him inside her with no barrier.
Moving from instinct, she rocked against him, a not-so-subtle dare. He reached out and gripped her chin before he crushed his mouth to hers. His tongue swept inside, claiming her. Making her his. She moaned as she wove her fingers through his shoulder-length hair and rose up against him, pressing her breasts to his chest.
He ripped his mouth away and raised above her, his expression positively lethal despite his ragged panting. “If I didn’t love you, I’d do it and hope to God you got pregnant. Even though it would be stupid for a lot of reasons, I’d do it.” He swore and grabbed a fistful of the pillow beside them. “Christ, I can’t think when I’m around you.”
When she didn’t reply, Tristan roughly gripped her shoulder. But she didn’t fear him. He wouldn’t ever hurt her, no matter how incensed he became. “Then you’d have no choice, would you? You’d have to stay with us.”
Her throat locked, but she met his gaze. Had all this really been brewing under the surface without any of them having the balls to acknowledge it? And for how long?
She’d been so sure she was the only one suffering silently, but here was Tristan, threatening things so unlike him she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“You can’t trap me, no matter what you say or do,” she whispered.
But that was a lie, and she knew it. She was already trapped by her own dwindling defenses and her body's overpowering need for him. For them both.
“He doesn’t want to trap you.” Matt kissed her temple. “He just wants you to want us the way we want you. We want all of you.” He exchanged a wordless glance with his best friend before returning his focus to her. “Though he’s not expressing that too well with all the damn threats.”
“Fuck that.” Tristan’s violent breaths washed over her skin. “I’m tired of playing games.”
