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“Fuck yes,” Dean growls, and I open my mouth for him, taking him between my lips as his hips rock forwards, his thighs flexing as he rests one hand on my hair. I can feel Jaxon hovering behind me, as if ready to pounce on Dean if he mishandles me in the slightest, but I can tell that Dean has no intention of doing anything close to that.
It only takes a moment before he stiffens, his cum flooding over my tongue as his hand tightens in my hair. I take it all, sucking and running my tongue over his cockhead as I lick it away, swallowing every drop until the last spurt of it has filled my mouth, and then Dean slips loose, gasping.
“Fuck, you give the best head I’ve ever had,” he groans. His hand runs over my hair again, stroking it, and then he reaches down, helping me up. Jaxon is already getting dressed, and he throws a blanket around my shoulders, holding me as Dean gets his clothes back on, too.
“Let’s get you upstairs,” Jaxon says. “You can sleep with either one of us—”
“I want to sleep alone,” I say flatly. “I need—”
I don’t finish, because I don’t know how to explain what I need, or that it feels wrong to pick one of them when both of them have given me so much of themselves today, or that I feel hurt that Cayde couldn’t in a way that I never would have expected myself to feel about it.
But to my surprise, neither of them argues with me. “We’ll get you up to the shower and let you be then,” Dean says, and I can feel myself relaxing, grateful that they didn’t put up a fight.
I don’t know where Cayde is. We don’t see him as we head up the stairs. Part of me wants to find him, to talk to him. But I’m too exhausted, drained in every possible way. So I let Jaxon and Dean help me to the shower, and I do my best to put Cayde out of my mind.
It’s easier said than done.
17
JAXON
The next morning around the breakfast table surprisingly lacks tension, despite the way last night went. I, for my part, don’t have any intention of starting shit. I don’t need to. Everything I could possibly need with Athena I got yesterday, and there’s not a single part of me that feels threatened by either of the other two men in her life.
But if Cayde doesn’t get his shit together, I might have to step in.
I’m still seething, remembering the way he manhandled her last night. He’d knocked me on my ass for something similar, gotten into a full-on fistfight over it, but since it was in the guise of one of his “scenes,” it was supposedly fine. And sure, Athena had consented to it.
But still, he hadn’t needed to be so fucking rough.
And especially not over the bullshit I overheard them murmuring to each other through it.
It’s obvious to anyone that Cayde loves her, as much as Cayde can love, anyway. I think his version of love verges on an unhealthy obsession, but hey, we all have our vices. Athena is his. And if she’s okay with it, far be it from me to tell her that he’s dangerous. She already knows.
But if she’s going to have one of us, it’s clear that she’s determined to have all of us. And while a part of me still wants to throw her on my bike caveman-style and whisk her and I both away from this fucking shitheap of a town, I know that’s not how this is all going to go down.
I learned a long time ago that there’s no escaping Blackmoor. Not as it stands, anyway. If that can be changed, well, then who knows what the future holds? Certainly not me. But first, we have to actually accomplish that.
Athena, Cayde, and Dean seem a lot more hopeful than I am that that’s possible.
Over breakfast, something like a plan starts to come together. Cayde agrees to see what gossip he can pick up from the rugby team, and Athena reiterates that she plans to go to the fights with me, and participate. No one, including myself, is particularly happy about that, but the time is past when any of us could tell her what to do. Athena has a seat at the table now, one equal to any of us. She’s won each of us over in our own way, and she’s not the Blackmoor pet anymore.
She never was, to me. The best I’d thought I could do was ignore her.
But instead, I ended up falling in love with her.
Every moment that I’m around her, I want to be touching her, kissing her, inside of her. Now that I’ve given in to it, the need for her feels almost unbearable. It makes doing anything else—like training with her later in the day to start preparing for her fight, almost impossible. All I can think of as we circle each other in the ring is the last time that we did this, when she pinned me in the ring and dry-humped me until I nearly came in my shorts, driving me to the edge and then leaving me there rock-hard and on the verge of losing control.
I’d gone straight to the showers after that and jerked off furiously, coming in seconds. It hadn’t been even close to satisfying.
All I want is her. Her body, her mouth, her hands, her pussy—any part of her that I can touch and taste and have. She’s intoxicating, and though there’s still lingering guilt, I can’t pretend any longer that I don’t want her and love her as entirely and completely as I ever have anyone. Maybe more, because as I told Athena, she’s the woman I’m with now. I was different even a few years ago when I was with Natalie, and Athena is who the present me has fallen for. I can’t know how things would be if they were different, but I know what this is.
And I know that there’s nothing in this world that would make me ever want to let her go.
We go through the motions of a workout, but I can tell her thoughts are as far away as mine are. I put her on the treadmill long enough to warm up, and then I spot her while she goes through her lifting routine. In the ring, she’s more focused, but I can still tell that she’s not a hundred percent there, and if I’m being honest, neither am I.
“What’s going on?” I ask her, when I land a hit that sends her staggering backwards. “If you leave an opening like that in a real fight, your opponent is going to demolish you.”
“I’m sorry.” Athena wipes her hair out of her face with the back of her wrist. “I’m still tired from last night, I guess. And preoccupied.”
