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“You wash Zayn, I’ll wash you.”
“Sounds good to me,” Zayn agrees.
Biting my lip, my cheeks flushing with heat, I turn around and place my hands on Zayn’s chest, sucking in a breath when I feel the scarred and bumped skin. Tears prick my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Instead, I touch him with care, making sure that I’m gentle. My fingers run over his collarbone, over his scarred pecs and abs, before working their way back up again. When my fingers stroke over his nipples he lets out a moan, and his mouth pops open. Behind me York is massaging my shoulders, his expert fingers running over my skin as his thumbs move down my spine, the sensation drawing a groan from my lips.
“Like that, Titch?” York asks, stepping closer behind me. I feel his cock press against my lower back and this time it’s York who lets out a groan.
“I hate that he hurt you,” I say quietly, as I take in Zayn’s ravaged chest and the relatively new scar from the cut Jeb had made that night Zayn had persuaded him to let Grim hire me.
York’s hand still on my hips. “Who hurt Zayn?”
“Shit, I—”
Zayn flicks his gaze from me to York standing behind me. “Some of these are from Jeb,” he explains, and I can’t help but see a flicker of shame in his eyes that he covers quickly. “Every time one of us fucked up, I took the punishment so none of you had to.”
York’s fingers dig into my hips involuntarily. “That motherfucking cunt. Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?!”
My fingers are still on Zayn’s chest as he answers. “What good would it have done?”
“Fuck man, I always knew he was a cunt, but that’s messed up,” York exclaims. For a second he drops his head to my shoulder as though needing to steady himself.
“I did what I had to do. I don’t regret it,” Zayn says, then coughs trying to cover the break in his voice.
Over my shoulder, York reaches for Zayn and cups the back of his head, bringing him in closer so that I truly am sandwiched between them. My hands slide around Zayn’s waist, and my cheek presses against his chest as York hugs us both. “Thank you, brother. Thank you for protecting us, for stepping up, but know this, from this moment on it stops. Understand?”
“Yeah, understood,” Zayn agrees, his voice scratchy as their foreheads touch above me in the cutest bro-hug ever.
“As much as I’m loving this,” I say, wiggling my hips provocatively, fully aware of their nakedness pressing against me, “A girl really needs to breathe.”
York pulls back with a laugh. “Shit, sorry Titch.”
Zayn grins down at me and presses a kiss against my forehead. “I think it’s York’s turn.”
Over my head an intense look passes between them and my heart warms at the thoughtfulness between them. God, I love them both so fucking much.
“I think you’re right,” I agree, twisting in their arms.
York already has the body wash bottle at the ready, and he squeezes some into my palms, and Zayn’s. Behind me Zayn wraps his arms around my waist as he presses a hot kiss against my bare shoulder.
“You’re too much of a fucking temptation,” he grumbles, holding me close, before he slowly starts rubbing his soaped-up hands over my stomach. I let out a breathy laugh as he slides his lips up my neck and gently nibbles on my earlobe, sliding his erection along the crease of my arse. “Wash York, make him come,” he whispers into my ear.
York meets Zayn’s gaze over my head and behind the grin I see the love between them. It’s not sexual, just pure. The kind of love we all dream of. I don’t need to be told twice. Focusing my attention back on York, I rub my hands together to foam up the body wash, then press my hands against his chest. He lets out a low groan as my warm hands caress his pecs and stroke over his hardened nipples. Leaning back against the shower wall, York watches me with his icy-blue eyes as I gently wash him down.
I run my hands over his chest, shoulders and arms, tracing his tattoo as I go and avoiding the bandage wrapped around his upper arm. Stroking my fingers down his arms, I massage each hand in turn, taking my time to loosen up the tension. My touch has him moaning with pleasure that gets louder as I run my hands over the trail of hair leading to his cock. He jerks in my hand when I wrap my fingers around the base of his thick length.
“Fuck, Titch,” he grinds out, his hooded eyelids dropping shut as my other hand clasps the mushroom head of his cock, and gently slides down his thickening shaft.
“That’s it, Pen, stroke his cock. Can you see how hard he is for you? Can you feel how hard I am for you?” Zayn asks, his own words needy and oh so fucking sexy.
With one hand running over my stomach, he removes the other and it doesn’t take a genius to work out that he’s stroking his own cock, soaping it up good. I glance over my shoulder at him and bite on my lip at the sight.
“Zayn,” I say, breathily, my clit pulsing with need as I pump York’s dick, loving the feel of him, loving the way his breaths are coming quickly with every firm stroke.
“Eyes forward, Pen. I got you,” Zayn replies, stepping closer as he slides his lips over my shoulder once more. Then it’s my turn to moan when he rocks his cock up and down my arse crack, his fingers sliding lower, inching towards the place I want him to touch most of all. With a groan, he finally parts my pussy lips with his finger and finds me wet and wanting.
“You’re so goddamn slick for us,” he grinds out, circling his finger over my clit and drawing a low moan out of my throat. I rock my hips, the motion creating delicious friction for his cock as he presses into my back until I’m sandwiched between them both, only leaving enough space for me to jerk off York.
“Look at her,” Zayn demands, and York’s eyes snap open. His gaze flares with heat before dropping lower, trailing a blaze over my slick skin, lingering on my tits then focusing on my hands sliding up and down his dick.
