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Chapter Seven
It wasn’t a dream!
That was the one irrefutable thought that was whirling around her mind as she catalogued the mild, but indisputable, whisker burn on her chin, her neck, and her breasts.
She’d turned over sometime during the night. Now she was facing the opposite direction, and the shoulder her head was snuggled into belonged to Jericho rather than Lazarus. His arm around her drew her close and his brother was pressed tight against her back, his hand clamped possessively on her hip. It was obvious neither of them had any problem with sharing.
That knowledge, the idea of taking it further, of visiting the next level sent a little thrill through her.
She drifted, half asleep, cozy, and secure within the cocoon the two men enveloped her in. Comfortable with her sexuality, while a lethargy born of satisfaction and contentment lulled her.
Until she became aware of that uncomfortable, prickly sensation that someone was watching her.
Shyla opened her eyes thinking one of her men was awake, a smile pulling at her lips.
But instead, she found herself face to face with Dante’s angry glare.
Shit! She’d forgotten all about him.
He looked at her with a stare full of brooding censure and accusation. His dark eyes simultaneously condemning and holding her accountable.
Shyla slammed closed her lids and buried her head in Jericho’s chest, blocking out the denigration she read in that sullen gaze. And suddenly everything that had transpired in the darkness and heat of the night seemed sordid and shameful.
And that in turn made her sad, and then angry.
How dare he judge her according to somebody else’s experiences. That just wasn’t fair. Yes, she could understand why he’d be cautious, but to treat her like dirt, without giving her a chance, simply because he found himself in a similar situation, just showed him as a bigot.
Shyla fumed silently until her bladder got the better of her and she needed to get up and see to the call of nature. They’d found the welcome addition of a composting toilet behind a sliding wall panel, which had initially been overlooked. It was basic, but much better than having to struggle outside in the snow and bare your butt in temperatures which had now dropped way below freezing.
She crawled out of the bed, doing her best not to disturb Lazarus or Jericho, then half limped, half hopped across the room, steadying herself on whatever piece of furniture was available.
Dante didn’t offer to help, and she was glad. The way she felt right now, she might just take a swing at him, and he’d be the one to claim assault.
He might be the most conventionally handsome of the three brothers, and that was saying something, as they were all pretty easy on the eyes. And he might make her stomach clench when she looked at him; but that was a purely physiological appreciation. None of that stopped her thinking he was an ass.
When she was finished in the makeshift bathroom, she found herself desperate to get cleaned up. Her thighs were still sticky from last night’s little romp and her teeth had started to feel fuzzy. She remembered she had a tiny tin of tooth powder and a small folding toothbrush somewhere in her bag and resolved to look for it. She’d boil some water to wash with and maybe she could commandeer one of the blankets for the day and rinse out her panties. She wondered if Dante would take issue with that too.
Well tough!
As she hobbled back out to the living area again, she found the object of her less than gracious thoughts waiting for her.
Shyla scowled at him and tried to push past, but not being able to walk properly made that impossible. Especially when he blocked her way.
She stood as best she could without anything to hold on to, not wanting to look like she was backing down, because that shit was so not happening. But trying to balance on one leg with no support, and still look like a boss girl with attitude, wasn’t the easiest challenge.
“Get out of my way, Dante,” she said quietly, since Lazarus and Jericho were still asleep. She reached out to push past him, but Dante grabbed her hand and the next thing she knew, he was pushing her against the wall, instead.
“Leave my brothers alone!” he hissed, as Shyla flattened her free hand against the wood paneling to steady herself. She flashed him a look which she hoped demonstrated that she wasn’t intimidated by him and leaned forward to get in his face.
“What’s wrong, Dante? Are we a little jealous?” she taunted.
He made a rude noise. “Pfft! As if!” he replied derisively, looking her up and down like she was somehow lacking.
His attitude got her back up even further. “Just as well, I guess. Since you weren’t invited to the party,” she retorted, her eyes flashing venom.
Really, this was so not her, but there was something about him that just brought her bitch out, big time.
“I’m warning you, keep away from them,” he muttered, squeezing the wrist he had pinned against the wall next to her head and leaning in, so they were almost nose to nose.
