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Once again I felt hope and elation at the idea of Evan coming home. But any happiness was undermined by the look in Silas’s and Cody’s eyes. Very quickly, I realized things weren’t going to be easy.
“We don’thaveanswers,” Cody said simply. “Not the ones they want.”
“Then we get them.”
The blonde SEAL scoffed. “Just like that, huh?”
“Yeah. Just like that.”
I had to admit, I was beginning to admire Santiago’s confidence. Even as a bigger part of me hoped it wasn’t bravado.
“When do they get here?” asked Silas.
“Ten days.”
A span of silence stretched between us in the empty office. It was broken by Silas.
“That’s not that great,” he said.
Cody nodded. “He’s right. It doesn’t give us a hell of a lot of time.”
“Do you remember what we did in Damascus?” asked Santiago. “Back in the summer of ‘17?”
The others remained motionless, quietly contemplating.
“And that warlord gave us half that amount of time.”
I could see a smirk begin to form at the corner of Santiago’s mouth now. He caught my eye and actually winked.
“I’m not worried,” he finished. “And you shouldn’t be either. In fact—”
“Worried?” Cody laughed, cutting him off. “Who said we’re worried? In fact, I’m relieved.”
“Relieved?” I cocked an eyebrow. “How are you reliev—”
“Because this thing ends for good in less than two weeks,” Cody said, folding his arms over his chest. “One way or the other.”
Forty-Five
BRYNNE
The next week or so was a great big waiting game. A putting out of feelers and calling on contacts, while chasing up leads and trying to stay off the Lozano’s radar all day.
The nights however, were a sex-soaked blur.
For starters, I was takingverygood care of my mercenaries. With my job gone and my normal duties all but ancient history, I had plenty of time to attend to Silas, Cody, and Santiago’s every need. I did this physically, of course. But also emotionally and spiritually. Yet no matter how much I seemed to do, my three sizzling roommates, lovers, and boyfriends were hellbent on attending tomyneeds too… as well as taking turns fulfilling even my hottest, most radically taboo of all fantasies.
And sometimes not even taking turns, either.
Each night would begin innocently enough on the couch, and end up in one more of their beds. I’d be soaked through, filled to overflowing. Screwed completely and utterly senseless, to stare up dizzily at whatever bedroom ceiling might be looking back at me. The boys took me together more than ever before, and they were getting good at it. They perfected old positions and invented all new ones that allowed them full, unrestricted use of my body, most times from both ends at once.
They took turns going down on me too, and me on them. We’d tease each other mercilessly to within a few agonizing seconds of climax, then chase each other — either laughing or cursing — to the nearest mattress so we could properly finish each other off.
Each night I would stretch out against their incredible bodies, touching and caressing without barriers of any kind. I would make out shamelessly until I was drunk on their kisses, then fall back in the delirium of whatever came next. All this was usually preceded on the pretense of watching a show or movie, but we almost never got to the end of anything.
And that was fine by me.
One evening the three of them took turns coming in me, again and again. They were rotating around me, using me up. Spreading my legs and screwing me deep into the bed, one man pumping away while another held me in his lap, kissing me softly, absorbing my happy moans in his sweet, masculine mouth. When the three of them finished they did it all over again, the first fully recovered and hard again from watching me with the second and third. Whoever it was would take his place between my legs, all soaked and saturated, his eyes fluttering closed in ecstasy as he sank right in.
