"You feel more relaxed already."
"Mmm." His teeth graze my skin below my earlobe. "Any more relaxed and you’re going to end up beneath me."
I should push him away. Instead, my head falls back, giving him better access. His growl vibrates against my skin, and I clench my thighs, heightening that tingling sensation that teases me to high hell. I’m drenched, every inch of me craving to have him naked against me.
"Fuck," he breathes. "You smell..."
"Logan..."
He pulls back enough to rest his forehead against mine. We’re both breathing hard, and I can feel him hard against my hip.
"Good night," I manage, voice shaky.
He laughs darkly, reaching down and adjusting what I notice is a huge package. My cheeks burn up.
"Sweet dreams, sugar. Try not to think about those paintings too much."
I slip into my room, closing the door and leaning against it until his footsteps fade. My body is humming with need, skin too tight, and when I press my thighs together again, slick dampens my underwear even more.
Oh God.
My heat is near… Damn Logan for being right. Now I’m stuck here and going into heat, forcing them to either help or abandon me. Though, so far, I get the impression they are going to be there for me. It terrifies me to suddenly be having sex, knotting, and heat with these men I am getting to know. They might not be interested in anything more than the present, and I try to tell myself not to get too attached, just in case.
I flip on the bedside lamp, its soft glow doing nothing to calm my racing heart. My lips still tingle from Logan’s kiss, slightly swollen, and my body buzzes with a desire I can’t contain.
What are you doing, Casey? Playing with fire like this?
The arousal pools inside me, impossible to ignore. I reach up, pinching my nipples, needing relief, but that only makes it worse. Their scents linger on my skin—Logan’s most strongly, but traces of Nash and Axel, too. When did that happen? When did I start categorizing their individual scents and learning the subtle differences? Logan smells like storm clouds and gunmetal, Nash like ancient books and expensive cologne, and Axel like pine forests after rain.
"Stop it," I mutter to myself, digging through drawers for my sleep tank top. I need a cold shower and sleep. "This whole situation is dangerous." But my body doesn’t seem to care about that. If anything, it craves it.
I can’t stay here forever.
These men are retrievers—mercenaries with hearts of gold, maybe, but still criminals. And me? I’m just a job gone sideways. A temporary complication in their otherwise perfectly balanced pack dynamic.
But once I’m gone, Julian won’t let me walk away, will he? He’ll find someone else to drag me back—someone I can’t reason with, someone even more dangerous.
Here, with them, I feel safer. Or am I fooling myself? I need a plan for when I’m no longer under their protection. We haven’t set a timeline for when I’m supposed to leave, but that doesn’t mean this is forever. Does it?
A knock at the door makes me jump. My heart leaps to my throat as I think of Logan. Has he come back? Part of me hopes he has, even while another part screams to keep my distance.
I smooth down my hair, utterly failing to calm down my nerves, and open the door.
"Back already? Can’t stay away?" The words tumble out before I register who’s actually standing there.
Nash’s eyebrow arches high above his glasses, amusement dancing in his gaze. "Well, that’s interesting."
"It’s just..." Heat floods my cheeks. "I thought..."
"All good." His grin is pure mischief. "I actually came to tell you I found a way for you to see your brother tomorrow."
Joy explodes in my chest. Without thinking, I launch myself at him, throwing my arms around his neck. "Oh my God, thank you! Thank you so much! You have no idea what this means to me. I’ve been so worried about him, and with everything that’s happening, and Julian probably watching him, and?—"
I suddenly realize I’m still pressed against him, his arms wrapped around my waist. The tank top has ridden up, his hands warm against my bare skin. Our position brings my face level with his, and this close, I stare at the flecks of amber in his green eyes.
I slide back quickly, tugging my shirt down. His grin has shifted from mischievous to something sinful.
"Happy to help." His voice has dropped lower, rougher. "Though if I’d known this was the thanks I’d get, I might have worked faster."