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Orion covers my mouth. “You don’t have to trust us forever, but at least trust us to take care of you. Look how good we can be.”
My only response is a panicked baby goat noise.
“Go get her a towel.” Hunter nudges Finn.
They swaddle me in ten layers of fabric before carrying me out of the sauna. Between the steam, their stroking touches, and the best orgasms of my life, I’m so tapped out my eyelids droop.
“Rest,” Hunter makes the softest bark.
I’m out of options.
Places to run.
Places to hide.
Just finally fucking out of willpower to resist.
All I can do is give in.
TWENTY-SEVEN
LILAH
I wake to a full-face view of my name on Finn’s chest, three bodies in my bed, and the realization that I’ve let this go way too fucking far.
Finn and Hunter have me alpha-sandwiched, and Orion tangles in our legs, face nested in my belly.
It’s warm.
It’s safe.
It’s much too fucking perfect.
So, naturally I panic, kicking my way out of the cuddle pile.
There’s a yelp and a flash of pain that says I just kneed somebody in the face.
“What’s wrong?” Hunter untangles from my sheets.
I dive out of bed, putting my back in the corner so I can reorient my whole entire worldview.
We’re in the bedroom I chose yesterday, in the perfect cozy cave home. I wear my bathing suit and a sheet while three sexy, disheveled men with my scent rubbed all over their skin watch me like the candy they haven’t finished sucking.
Shit.
Before I can decide whether to bolt, or maybe dive under the big bed, my stomach rumbles.
“You need food.” Orion puts a hand on his taut bare abs. “Oh. We need food.”
Hunter stretches his arms above his head, and the shoulder flex makes me choke. “I’ll go—”
“I’ll cook!” Any excuse to escape this room and their pheromones and the traitorous, happy warmth in my soul.
I grab the robe that’s mine now, hung on the back of the bathroom door and dash out, hoping to finally catch my breath.
Atlas and Jett sit on the sofa like two kids in time out. Stacks of flattened cardboard pile by the door from whatever they spent the morning moving in.
They snap to life when I careen past, shooting into the kitchen.
