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The crying helps release the pent-up tension threatening to explode inside me. Blowing out a breath, I slowly get to my feet and walk to the sink, looking up at my pale face in the mirror. I make a promise to myself. A promise to survive. I’ll let them bend me and twist me up in all the knots they want just to please their little dark hearts, but they will not break me. Not this time.
And when I leave, and I will, it’s just a matter of biding my time, it will be the last time I see them, unless it’s in court.
I splash cold water on my face before turning to the shower in contemplation. The heat is almost unbearable, so the thought of climbing under the cool spray is enticing, but I don’t trust Creed and Hawk not to pull another stunt while I’m in here. No, it will have to wait for now.
I spot the bottle of hand wash just behind the shower curtain and grab it. It’s the one I bought for the motel room. Rose-scented. It’s not ideal, but it will work for now.
I fill the sink and slip off my panties—I’ve had them on for far too long—and wash them using the rose-scented hand wash before wringing them out. I’d hang them over the curtail rod, but I don’t trust the guys not to take them from me out of spite. Thankfully, there’s a small window above the toilet, way too small for someone to crawl through, but big enough for what I need.
I twist the handle, happy to find it unlocked, and push it open just wide enough for me to hang the panties out before I close the window once more, trapping the blue material. In this heat, it shouldn’t take long for them to dry, which is good. There is no way I’m sleeping in that bed tonight without them, not if I’m supposed to be sharing it.
Hell, I’d rather wear them wet than go bare. Once upon a time, that would have been a different story, but now the thought of them touching me makes me want to scream. Sleeping beside them will be like playing with a double-edged sword. One wrong move and I’m in trouble. My head might want to set them on fire, but my body remembers the fires they once stoked within me. I’d had sex before them. Not much, but some. It had always been with a slight detachment. Sex with emotion? Well, turns out that is something else altogether.
Instead of seeking your own release, you become more aware of your partner’s wants and needs. There’s nothing better than making alpha men drop to their knees. It made me feel powerful, and it was addictive, and something I haven’t had since I left. I thought about it. Even came close once, but I just couldn’t bring myself to break the vows I took. It might have all been a lie to them, but I meant every word I spoke that day.
For four years, I’ve been celibate. Four years of using my hand and my battery-operated boyfriend, and now I’m about to share a bed with two men who could have easily been underwear models in another life. And in this heat, I fear what was once a dry spell will trigger a tsunami.
Not good.
I take some deep breaths. I’m not sure I can center myself enough right now to meditate, but I can give myself a mini pep talk.
I am a strong, resilient woman. I’m immune to their big-dick energy. I will not fall under their spell because the euphoria won’t last. They will break more than my fucking dry spell if I let them.
Well, not today, Satan. Not today.
Okay, so my pep talk needs a little work, but it will do in a pinch. I nod to my reflection to let her know I’ve got this, ignoring the skeptical look on my face as I unlock the door and pull it open.
I jump when Hawk falls back. He must have dozed off leaning on the door. I frown down at him as he looks up at me. Nope. I don’t even want to know why he’s here.
I step over him, or try to, but when I have a foot on either side of his head, I find hands banded around my ankles holding me in place.
“What the hell, Hawk?”
I look down, but he isn’t looking at my face. He’s staring straight up at my—
“Sonofabitch. Let me go.”
He ignores me. His focus solely on my bare pussy. When he licks his lips, I swear to God, I feel my womb spasm. I take back what I said about not being able to stab them. If I had a knife handy right now, I’d stick it in his eyeball.
I feel myself slicken under his gaze. If I don’t get him away from me, he’ll soon see exactly the kind of effect he still has on my body.
“Let me go, Hawk, before I punch you,” I warn him. My voice wavers a little, though I don’t think he notices.
Reluctantly, he releases my ankles. I waste no time hurrying away from him in case he changes his mind. I was planning on hiding out in the bedroom, but needing to put some space between me and him, I head to the living room instead. I hesitate when I find Creed in the kitchen.
“Pasta for dinner,” he tells me.
Nodding, I shuffle over to the sofa. I plop myself down on one end before tucking my knees up under my chin and tugging the long T-shirt down to cover everything.
When Hawk walks in a minute later, I look away, feeling my skin heat with embarrassment. The last thing I want is for him to think that was some kind of trick to get them to change their minds about keeping me here. There isn’t much I wouldn’t do to get away from them, but I can’t bring myself to taint the one good thing that remains between us. After all, everything else might have been a lie, but the sex wasn’t. It’s impossible to fake what we shared. Using my body to manipulate them now would just cheapen it all. That might make me a sentimental fool, but I can’t help who I am.
Hawk surprises me by sitting down on the sofa next to me, his hand landing on my knee. I snap my head around to focus on him. His eyes lock on mine, and for a second, I forget how to breathe. When he moves, I dive off the sofa and head to the kitchen before he can do something stupid like kiss me.
“Do you need any help?” I ask Creed, who looks at me in surprise before nodding to the stuff for a salad on the counter.
“You can make the salad if you like.”
I nod, and he watches as I move around the counter. When I’m standing next to the vegetables, I look at Creed expectantly.
