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I made a face as he settled into his place and turned his head to brush his lips against my temple.
“Sleep, Shelby.”
“You should try being less bossy,” I said, rolling away from him to toss an arm over Turik’s waist. “Or haven’t you heard? You can catch more flies with honey than vinegar.”
Vorx grunted, and someone’s fingers toyed with my braid. It felt like Turik, which suited me fine.
Lonely. Pfft. Vorx was mistaking the need to be left alone with loneliness.
Exhaling softly, I rubbed my cheek against Turik’s pectoral and closed my eyes. I was just here because it was more comfortable, and I felt safer. That was it.
* * *
“It’sdifficult to hold still when she does this,” Vorx said, his voice a tortured rumble.
“Think of other things. She will not be happy if she wakes with sticky hair,” Turik answered, sounding entirely unlike himself.
Their conversation penetrated the fog in my mind and almost had me bolting upright…until I realized my position. Someone had his hard length nestled against my ass. The other hard length was wedged under my cheek…and I was rubbing my face on it.
“There is no damn way I did this to myself,” I mumbled, lifting my head to confirm I was laying across Vorx with my butt against Turik. “Someone was touching me. Moving me in my sleep. Admit it.”
Both fey blinked at me. Sweat beaded their foreheads, and their hands were tucked behind their heads. It should have looked like a carefree, relaxed pose, but I was pretty sure Turik was fisting his hair.
“You know what? Never mind. I don’t want to talk about whatever this is.” I scrambled off the bed. “Or talk to either of you for the rest of the day.”
I practically ran from the room and didn’t stop until I was safely locked away in Turik’s bathroom. There, I set my flushed forehead against the cool glass of the mirror and glared at the self-deluded woman, who still couldn’t face her reality.
As much as I wanted to blame them for the position in which I’d woken, I knew better. That was on me. I’d gone to bed with them, and I’d woken in a similar position with them before. Just not at the same time. What did snuggling like that in my sleep say about me? Probably nothing more than yesterday’s warm-up session said.
I was starved for positive affection. I wanted to feel good with someone again, fading bruises be damned. How messed up was that?
Moving away from the mirror, I rubbed a hand over my face and tried to get my thoughts straight for the day. Fishing. Scouting ponds for resources. That I could do. I could be useful. Helpful even.
With my clothes on.
After brushing my teeth, I layered strategically, to avoid getting so cold, then reluctantly joined Vorx and Turik in the kitchen. A plate of eggs and toast waited for me on the counter, and two very stoic fey stood by the door.
They let me eat in silence and didn’t try to help me with my shoes or jacket when I finished.
I didn’t like it. I felt hollow without their conversation and attentiveness.
Lonely.
I made an annoyed sound and glared at Vorx before stomping out the door.
Neither fey spoke to me as I strode down the street, heading for the canoes. They did, however, quietly converse with the fey who joined us along the way, which only annoyed me further. I hated that I felt so needy and attention starved. What was wrong with me? Hadn’t I just run from a man who had given me all sorts of the wrong kind of attention? Why would I want anyone’s attention? Why couldn’t I just lay in bed by myself and just go to sleep?
Allowing myself a moment of frank honesty, I acknowledged Vorx’s wise words from the night before. I was lonely. Deeply, disturbingly clingy, kind of lonely. I wanted someone to kiss my forehead and hold me just like Turik had said my first day here. I just hadn’t recognized how badly until they’d both started doing it. And I wanted more. Kindness. Gentle touches. Caring. And above all, the solid protection of Vorx and Turik.
And while a small part of me felt conflicted about both of them paying attention to me, the other part knew that it wasn’t a big deal. At least, not to them. They were competitive by nature and made a game out of some of the attention, and the rest they gave willingly because they genuinely cared about me as a person. They both understood that I wasn’t looking for anything more at this point.
So, what harm was there in waking up with my face pressed against Vorx’s balls and my crack riding Turik’s shaft?
None.
I chewed on my bottom lip and immediately regretted the way I’d stormed out of the room and my continued pouting. My first reaction should have been an apology. Apologizing after the fact now sucked, which is why I continued to wait until most of the fey were distracted with gathering canoes.
Turik and Vorx stood on each side of me, watching me more than their brothers. I reached out and slipped my gloved hands into theirs.
