Page 141 of Seizing Control: Part Two

“You understand what we’re sayin’, wife?”

When I nod in response to his question, Slash loosens his fingers.

I inhale deep.

Fingers in my hair, my first love holds me in place so he can steal a quick kiss.

“Let’s get you home, Lil,” Lazarus says while he restarts the elevator.

My husband uses his grip on my neck to turn me in a slow half-circle. The desire in his icy gaze is blatant as he scans my face through narrowed eyes. I swallow again, relishing the growl that rumbles in his chest as he mimics the movement of my throat with his hand. His control is tenuous, the flexing of his fingers torturous when he doesn’t immediately speak.

I should push Slash away.

Slap Lazarus’ face for his crude comments.

My body refuses to cooperate with my brain.

The elevator pings.

The doors slide open.

Slash sweeps me off my feet while, handgun drawn, Lazarus leads the way to the Range Rover. I’m conscious of the security shadowing us as I’m carried to the vehicle. My husband slides in, easily accommodating my weight as he settles in the middle seat. After pulling the seatbelt around us both, the big man wraps both arms around me as he cradles me on his lap.

“Guess I’m driving?”

“You guessed right,” Slash retorts without heat.

A dozen questions reverberate around my brain as Lazarus drives us home, but I’m too addled to organise them into cohesive thoughts. I’m hyperaware of my racing heart. Mindful of the effect they’ve had on my body. Cognisant that I’ve allowed them to grind my boundaries to dust. The fleeting glances from my first love as he checks on me over his shoulder are electrifying, even as I know that I should look away. When our eyes lock again, he smirks, then winks. My face fills with heat. I’m paralysed with indecision. Devoid of sense. Spellbound by the safety I find in my husband’s embrace while I flirt with Lazarus.

This is wrong.

Weak and dangerous.

I need to wrench control back from them.

“Stop worryin’ about things that’re over and done with,” Slash rasps. I stiffen when he kisses my cheek. “We’re gonna play nice together.”

“Promise?”

My husband tightens his hold, then I feel his lips trace the shell of my ear a heartbeat before he whispers, “Actions not words, wife... guess you’re gonna have to trust us if you want to find out.”

The house is dark as we enter from the garage. I half expected a Moscato & Monet club ambush on our return, so I breathe a sigh of relief. Even though I need space from the two men in my life, I’m still grateful to escape my girlfriends questions for another day. Serena has made it clear that they won’t be leaving until I’ve filled them in on the newest developments in my life, especially Lazarus’ presence. None of our friends and family are under the illusion that the silently stoic stranger in a suit isn’t Zeke reappearing from the dead, yet they’re all playing along. The Trinity’s presence has enforced a cone of silence around the elephant in the room, however, it’s only temporary.

Soon, I’ll need to explain the unexplainable.

My husband.

My first love.

Their crazy promise to share me.

“You hungry or tired?” Slash asks.

“Tired.” It’s a lie, but I can’t think of a better excuse to escape them. Feigning a yawn, I add. “I’ve missed my bed.”

“Bed, it is, then,” Lazarus says. He is busy typing on his phone, catching up on whatever business he’s missed while we were with the twins. Lifting his eyes from the device, he pins my husband with a pointed look. “Take Lily upstairs. Get her comfortable. I’ll join you in a couple hours.”

“I... uh.” Pulling my hair from its messy bun, I fuss with it instead of meeting their eyes. “I don’t want you in my room. Either of you.”

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