Page 97 of The Game

“Cash,” I whisper hoarsely. Teddy tenses upon hearing his friend’s name.

“They’re going to pin this on him, too,” Teddy growls. Nick is somber as he nods, but then a small, devilish smirk tugs against his scars, lifting one side of his face as the darkness in the hallway casts him in a demonic glow.

“They can try, but I have a plan, and I need your help.”

CHAPTER 48

Alice

“You’re nervous,babochka,” Tristan says softly from the doorway to my bedroom. Frowning down at my pristine bed as I carefully fold a pair of leggings, I shrug. It’s odd for me, being in this room, for with it come memories—mostly of high school. Mostly of the best time in my entire life. I want to shove back against all the bad, against everything that has changed in a relatively short amount of time. I used to feel safe here, though not quite at first. It took my twins coaxing me out, showering me with love and unending affection for me to feel safe enough to bloom where I was planted.

And once we cemented our relationship, I never spent much time in here. When Ellie or Aria or Josie would come over, I had to constantly remind myself not to waltz into Jameson or Tristan’s room as if it were my own, for we often simply rotated between their two beds on any given night. Sometimes, it would be just me and Jameson, or just me and Tristan, but for the most part, I was always sandwiched between two hard-muscled, tattooed bodies, safe to slumber in peace, knowing in my heart the singular truth that no monsters—past or present—would ever get to me.

Now, as we face down what seems to be an endless string of foes, my skin prickles in awareness, in a way it never used to.

“I keep waiting for things to feel the same,” I finally whisper to my old duvet, the four walls of my room more foreign than familiar. It makes me itch in a way that isn’t quite tangible. His boots thud gently against the floors as he steps inside. Upon returning home, I mostly stayed in here alone, but over the last few months, I’ve begun the rotation again. Ever since the night of the woods, my walls have been slowly crumbling, but part of me is still waiting for that final puzzle piece to click back into place, for my body to sigh in relief as I sink back into accepting the love they have to offer.

Jumping slightly as his fingers skim along the bare skin showing above my jeans, I soon calm, my eyes slipping closed as he engulfs me in a hug from behind. His body relents for me, the steeliness of his muscles morphing into pliable softness that surrounds me. The sigh that escapes my lips comes unbidden. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“You keep bringing out new sides to us, sides we didn’t know existed. Things will never be as they were, Alice…but I do not mind.”

This brings a small smile to my face, and I place my hands atop his sturdy forearms, leaning my head back so it is cradled by his chest.

“And you two have discussed these new sides?” I ask coyly. Again, he chuckles, bouncing us both with gentle force.

“Da. I keep no secrets from my blood, you know this.”

“I’m just curious why I am not involved,” I tease lightly. He squeezes me, and my eyes flutter open to the dreary evening. Tomorrow, we go to the club Meg was last seen leaving. Tomorrow, we hopefully close the chapter on a lot of shit that needs to be put to rest. But right now? I just want them to hold me, just want to pretend that this world isn’t as fucked up as it really is.

“Well, I’ll let Jameson speak his side, but for me…fuck,” he hisses, releasing me to spin me around so I am facing him, his long fingers cupping my cheek as I stare up into those slate gray eyes in slight concern for whatever it is these two have been gossiping about without telling me. His smile is soft and reassuring, and a divot forms between his brows. “I used to want to ruin you. Fuck you until you were a drooling mess beneath me. I still want that,” he says with a breathless laugh as I grin into his palm, my own hand sneaking up his soft shirt to rest over his flexing pectoral muscle, snagging on his nipple piercing.

Swallowing hard as that slight tinge of desire buds between my legs, I egg him on in the way I know only I am able to. It makes me feel more powerful than I’ve ever been, when I am able to bring them to their knees, knowing that with the right words or the right swish of my hips, they will do whatever it is I desire. They may be dominant, but I am still the queen of their black hearts.

“But what else do you want?” I whisper, my voice taking on a husky edge of desire. His pupils dilate quickly, expanding enough that they push out the steel and replace it with an endless void of black. When his smirk blooms, my stomach clenches and my clit begins to throb.

“I want to possess you, heart and soul. I want to tie you up and play with you for so long you forget your name but remember your god. I want you to scream and beg for your pleasure—”

“And know that we are the only ones who will give it,” a deep voice answers from the doorway. I jump, but Tristan pulls me close with a chuckle, and I peer around his bicep at Jameson. He leans against the wall, lurking in the shadows with ignited eyes and a firm set to his jaw. Before I can further entice them, he jerks his head back toward my door and says something to Tristan in his deep Russian accent, making my entire body tingle with anticipation.

Tristan chuckles but wastes no time in hoisting me up as I yelp my surprise, my legs circling his hips as his wide hands grip my ass possessively.

“Big brothers want to play with their favorite toy,” he growls, nipping at my nose as my eyes flutter to saucers and my mouth runs dry. There’s no protesting the inevitable, so the small whimper that escapes me says all I am incapable of at this moment. Out he strides to the living room, and before I am able to see anything, silky blackness surrounds my eyes.

Gasping at the sudden darkness I’ve been thrust into, I feel their breath as Jameson ties off the blindfold with strong precision at the back of my head. “Sherbet,babochka.”

His lips tickle my ear, and I shiver as I nod slowly, my fingers gripping Tristan’s sturdy shoulders as if my life depends on it, as if he will keep me planted on earth. I know it’s the opposite; they will bend time and space, warp my dark world until I burn bright as the sun.

And only when I am ash can I finally rise again.

He drops me to my feet as carefully as possible, fingers slipping down the front of my tight shirt, knuckles brushing against the bare skin of my stomach as he nimbly pushes the brass button of my jeans through its loop. Goosebumps erupt over every inch of my flesh as my nipples tighten into stiff peaks, budding painfully hard in my bra. My breath hitches in my throat on a gasp as Jameson’s hands slip up my sides, fingers curled under the hem of my shirt as he pulls up and Tristan slides my zipper down.

We say nothing, and somehow it is more erotic, more intimate. They are feasting on the sight of me; I am feasting on the ragged way their breath echoes in the room where they first laid claim on me. With the blindfold still snugly in place, Jameson slips my shirt over my head while I raise my arms, compliantly stepping out of my pants when Tristan pools them around my ankles. God, I’m so horny, imagining the way they are staring at me. For the first time, I don’t even think of my scars. Perhaps that is why Jameson chose to blindfold me. It also heightens every other sense, so as I stand there in my bra and panties, their fiery bodies pressing in closer to mine, my breath comes in quicker gasps.

My body jerks forward as Jameson’s fingertips skim over the curve of my ass.

“Shh,babochka, or I’ll have to gag you.”

Oh, God. My legs shift as the ache between my thighs grows more and more prominent, my slippery wetness pooling in my thong. A thrill runs through me, leaving my head pounding in momentary dizziness, as I consider pushing him to do just that. Licking my lips as I prepare to test the waters, Tristan’s fingers grip my jaw firmly, and a whimper escapes instead.

---