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Still, I held on tight, because I wouldn’t let him fall either. My cunt was clenching so tight, he had to really work us together to get the friction we both wanted.
“Mine,” he whispered, kissing the Vandals tattoo between my breasts. The next time I shattered, I flew apart without a care in the world. I was absolutely his.
And he was mine.
CHAPTER16
VAUGHN
After Ms. Stephanie’s funeral, the last thing I wanted to do was attend another. More than a dozen people died at the shop. Two more survivors weren’t expected to make it. Of the fifteen inside, only one was hanging in there. The guys wouldn’t let me go to the memorial services alone, nor would Dove.
While I didn’t want to invite trouble, I had made an appearance and left flowers. I’d spoken to more grieving families and friends. I wasn’t alone in my guilt over the incident, though I was responsible, unlike the other tattoo artists who hadn’t been working that night.
The tattoo shop had been burned down because of me. Because I had a space there. A soft hand feathered down my back as Dove settled on the sofa behind me.
“You are really cutting into my brooding time,” I teased, and her smile grew. A couple of days earlier, her smile had not been present. Her tears had threatened to break my heart. It had taken her time to rally and to tell us about what happened to her mother.
As much as I hated to admit it, we’d asked Milo if he thought she was lying after Jasper took Dove into his room to sleep. He’d won the rock, paper, scissors, but we’d all checked on them.
“You can brood,” she said, sliding her arm over my shoulders. I slid mine around her waist and just towed her down into my lap.
“Yeah?” I said, curling my arms around her. I had burns in places, and they were itching where they’d begun to heal. I’d survive. When the skin was done healing, I could cover some up with new ink.
“Yeah,” she said, tilting her head back to rest on my shoulder. She stretched her legs out along mine, using me as a chair, but honestly, she had more than enough room to sprawl. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to brood alone.”
Pressing my lips to her temple, I rubbed a slow circle over her stomach. The ink that I’d put there needed more work. We’d talked about it. Talked about her arms too. I was going to have to get new equipment. Another long sigh escaped me. She didn’t say anything, didn’t push me, or even ask me any questions.
What she did was relax into me, and some of the tension leached out of my bones as I held her. The steady thrum of her heart, the faint floral of her perfume—or maybe that was just her shampoo. Her hair was soft and pulled into a ponytail that spilled over one shoulder.
The length of her hair was something I’d begun to enjoy, especially when she rode me and it spilled down over her breasts. That thought sent a bolt of lust right to my dick, and while I’d never not be turned on by her, I was also content just to sit here and hold her.
The television was on, but I’d muted the sound while I watched the news, which segued into daytime soap operas. I’d even forgotten those things existed. Dove didn’t make any moves to change it, nor did I. She stroked my arm gently, her touch so light it was barely there and at the same time, it settled something in my soul.
We got about thirty minutes of just quiet, being together. My dick was getting increasingly interested in the ass pressing into me, when the door to the suite opened to let Liam in. Goddamn, he looked like hell.
“Hey,” I said, leaning forward even as Dove did.
“Hey,” he said, stripping off his jacket as he crossed to the sofa and dropped onto it next to me. “You mind if I…”
When he motioned to Dove, I opened my arms and she turned, already sliding over to straddle his lap and wrap her arms around him. It was like watching a decaying orbit as they collapsed into each other. Her strength in that tiny body was easy to overlook—if you didn’t recognize the true power she wielded.
Dove could handle us—allof us. While I’d never once imagined that the love of my life would be the love of our lives, it made so much damn sense. My brothers loved her every bit as much as I did. She loved us. Not sharing her seemed anathema. Even if I still wondered how it would all work out in the end, I wasn’tafraidof how it would turn out.
No, I was more curious.
“I’m here,” she whispered. The words carried so much weight I shifted in my seat to put a hand on his shoulder. Liam’s arms flexed as he held her. The lack of bruises on his hands and face were as telling as the way he held her.
We all had our coping strategies. Liam needed a fight. The fact he wasn’t taking any on said a lot more about his worry for recent events. Collateral damage was a real thing, and we were moving targets.
Liam shuddered, then lifted his head to meet my gaze as he rested his cheek against her hair. The shadows under his eyes were pronounced, so was the red in them. Grief was a fucking bitch.
When he held out a hand, I gripped it and then Dove curled in his lap to put her hand over ours. I met the soft brown of her eyes as she stroked her thumb over my hand. The silence we’d been enjoying earlier wrapped around all three of us. The long sigh Liam released clearly echoed my earlier one.
Yeah, grief fucking sucked.
“Thank you, Hellspawn,” he said in a gruff voice. She lifted her head, and that smile was everything. She combed her fingers through his hair.
“Can I do anything else?”
