Page 58 of Wicked Devotions: Part 2

“Did she now?” My dick perks up at the thought. That would have been so sexy to watch. “How did you like it, Angel?”

Her cheeks turn from a rosy pink to a deep red. “Do we have to talk about it?”

“Yes. If we’re going to have this type of relationship, communication is key. We need to know what you like and dislike.”

“Exactly. It’d be easy to steamroll you three to one, and we would never want to do that.”

She looks around at the three of us before taking a deep breath and answering. “I loved it. I loved feeling both of you inside me at the same time. I can’t imagine not doing it again, especially with all of you. Once I’ve recovered,” she quickly adds.

My chest expands with warmth at how, with minimal coaxing, she’s so open with us. Slowly but surely, she’s becoming more comfortable with us and talking openly about sex and her feelings. I know it’s as important to Emerson and Cy as it is to me that she feels completely comfortable with us.

“That can be arranged.”

The chef put togethera full Thanksgiving meal for our last dinner aboard the yacht. There was so much food that Harper insisted the entire crew join us, not just the captain. While she chats with everyone about their background, I grab Emerson and Cy for a quick talk outside.

“Where are you going to go while Harper and I spend the weekend with our parents?”

“Mom and Dad want us to hang with them,” Emerson says.

“Good. You’ll be close.” His family lives up the road from mine. “Dad said they’re really close to nailing the guy who has been stalking Harper.”

“What are you going to do when you find him?” Cy asks. “Because I wouldn’t mind an hour or two alone with him.”

“I haven’t discussed that with Dad yet.” Too risky to talk about something that could be incriminating over the phone. “I’m more concerned with having you guys nearby.”

“Awww,” Cy singsongs. “Are you worried about us, pookie?”

“Fuck off.” I shove him with no real force. Fucking clown.

“I’m so ready for this to be over,” Emerson says. “If I could just spend the next six months focused on nothing but school and you guys, I’d be so fucking happy.”

“I know.”

Emerson has the most to lose in terms of letting distractions drag him off course. I know the classes he’s taking are harder than what any of us are enrolled in. I’d love to be able to give him the peace he needs to finish his final year as successfully as the first three.

“I’m actually going to drop out of school,” Cy says. “Now that I’ve gotten my inheritance and it’s more than I could ever need, I’m going to focus on what I want to do for a while.”

I nod in agreement. He deserves that after what his uncle has put him through. I know he’s due for a breakdown over killing his uncle at some point, just like Harper is with her dad’s death. We’ll be there for them, no matter what or when it happens. There’s no one else I’d rather be in the trenches with than these two guys.

Chapter

Twenty-Two

HARPER

Riding up to Cillian’s house today feels completely different than it did nearly five months ago. It still doesn’t feel like home, but it’s not nearly as intimidating. Especially knowing that my mom is probably waiting right by the front door to come running down the steps and hug me. Declan’s warm hand splayed over my thigh helps, too.

The driver pulls into the circle drive and gets out to unload our luggage while Declan slides out of the backseat and holds his hand out to help me. As soon as both my feet are on the drive, I’m hit with the force of motherly love when her arms wrap around me. She holds me so tight I can barely breathe.

“Mom.” I wheeze out a laugh. “I can’t breathe.”

“Sorry.” She immediately drops her arms and takes a step back.

Then, to my surprise, Declan opens his arms for a hug as well. I’ve never seen him hug her before, and judging by thesurprised look on her face, it must be a first. She looks up at Cillian, who’s standing at the top of the steps with an inscrutable look on his face. A step beside him is mom’s bodyguard, Felix.

A sense of unease runs through me, not because I don’t trust him, but the fact that his presence is necessary is unsettling. He gives me a nod of greeting and then goes back to surveying the property from his perch on the porch. Declan grabs my bags and his own and begins carrying them into the house while Mom tucks her arm through mine.

“I made cookies for you,” she tells me. “Snickerdoodle.”

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