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I shrug my shoulders, not knowing how I feel or even where to begin to describe it. “I feel like this is all some big cosmic joke. It doesn’t feel real, but on the other hand, it feels all too real. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be thinking or what to even say to each of you. I’m not ready to say goodbye.”
“I get it,” Dalton murmurs. “But I suppose there’s no right or wrong in any of this, just feel whatever feels real to you. Whatever you want. If you need to cry, then do that. If you want to fall to pieces, then that’s okay too. We’re not going anywhere, Firefly.”
I nod against his chest, not sure I’m able to find the words, but as I lift my hand to his heart, feeling the steady rhythm through his shirt, my fingers brush along the bandaging from his bullet wound. Getting him home was interesting. We had to lay down the backseats of Zade’s SUV, and Sawyer hoisted Dalton across them as Easton found the first aid kit stashed in the trunk.
I watched in terror from the front as Easton dug the bullet out of him, but the second he said that Dalton was in the clear, it was suddenly so much easier to breathe.
I can’t help but catalog all the times the guys have gotten injured under the name of protecting me, and I fucking hate it. No one should have to suffer for me, and while I truly appreciate the many times they’ve been there to protect me, the fact that they had to in the first place tears me apart. Perhaps my untimely demise has a few benefits after all. The boys will finally rest easy, knowing no one is coming for their throats, and Zade will have all his dreams come true.
Dalton pulls me onto his lap, his hands slipping beneath the fabric of my shirt, roaming up and down my back as I curl into his chest, and without hesitation, Sawyer scooches over on the couch, keeping close enough that he can take my hand, his thumb moving back and forth over my knuckles.
“I’m not ready,” I whisper into Dalton’s chest, tears brimming in my eyes. “The idea of losing you all . . .”
Zade leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and dropping his face into his hands, truly looking tortured by what he has to do tonight. Hell, his whole face is turning white. Then as if on cue, he gets up and strides out of the room, gently squeezing my shoulder as he passes.
“Is he okay?” I ask.
Easton shakes his head and gets up, striding over to us and dropping down on the coffee table just behind me, bracing his elbows on his knees, much like Zade was just a moment ago. “No, Pretty,” Easton murmurs, reaching out and wiping the tears off my face. “He’s not. He’s barely holding on.”
“Should I go after him?”
“Nah, just give him some space. He needs to work it out of his system,” Sawyer tells me, squeezing my hand.
I nod, sitting up on Dalton’s lap, my gaze fixated on his shirt, not able to meet any of their intense stares. “I don’t know what to do,” I admit. “I feel so . . . empty.”
Dalton lifts his hand to my chin, his warm fingers forcing my gaze back to his. “You don’t need to do anything, Firefly,” he murmurs. “Let us help you feel something.”
I nod as Easton gets to his feet behind me, leaning over me as his hand curls around the back of my neck, turning my face to his before pressing his warm lips against mine in the most passionate kiss. I feel Dalton’s eyes on us, his hand slowly brushing over my waist from beneath my shirt as Sawyer’s hand shifts to my thigh, trailing higher and sending a wave of goosebumps across my skin.
Easton reaches down, thumbing the fabric of my shirt before slowly lifting it over my head, exposing my body inch by inch. He tosses the shirt aside, and as he continues to kiss me, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, Dalton’s hand skims across my bare breasts, my nipples pebbling under his soft touch, but nothing is more intense than his heavy stare lingering on my body.
He makes me feel alive. They all do, and I need so much more.
Sawyer’s fingers work their way up between my legs, his hand firmly cupping my pussy before he rubs me over my underwear, making me grind down on Dalton’s lap. I groan into Easton’s mouth as my hands fall against Dalton’s chest, fisting his shirt into my fingers and pulling it over his head.
The sweetest bliss begins pulsing through my veins, my eyes rolling in the back of my head, then reading my body and knowing how much more I need, Sawyer fists my lace panties in his hands and tears them clean off my body. I gasp as he presses his fingers to my needy clit, applying just the right amount of pressure before rolling them and making my body jolt.
