Page 550 of Rage

“Are you sure you want to take on both me and Liu? We’ll be a hell of a lot for you to handle.”

“I’ve always been partial to a challenge.”

His lips twist into a smile before they brush against mine, a question more than a kiss.

And I answer it, clambering onto his lap, the shredded dress offering no barrier as I settle against him, taking his mouth like it’s another challenge, one I plan to come out on top of.

The patient dance of tongues lulls me while we both explore the planes and valleys of each other’s bodies. Then he tugs my bodice down, his rough fingers circling each nipple in turn, and I groan, rocking against the hardness that’s rubbing me in all the right ways, even with layers of cloth between us. “Liam,” I mutter a moment before his mouth joins his fingers, hot and wet, lighting me up from the inside out.

I stop him for a moment to yank off his shirt, and once I do, I’m greeted by an expanse of muscles and scars, evidence of the same upbringing I had. “God, you’re handsome,” I say, and the same twist of lips is all the response I get before his mouth is back at it, coaxing me higher with every swipe of his tongue against my chest. Every exploratory tweak and caress makes me eager for release, for an outlet for all the adrenaline left in my system.

A celebration of survival, of a beginning with two men I’ve always known, but never really got to know.

From here on out, we’re fixing that.

My fingers sweep over his chest, learning the planes of it, as the hum of the backhoe revs in the distance, Xander filling our unmarked graves, now housing the bodies of our enemies. But I don’t pay it much mind. I’m too invested in finding the points where Liam’s breath stutters against my skin, his hum of pleasure so deep that I can barely hear it. Then I find a spot on his side that has him twitching away from me.

I stifle a laugh. “Is Liam O’Connell ticklish?”

“Terribly. Don’t tell anybody.” His eyes are bright as they meet mine. “Is this really happening? I’m not passed out somewhere, am I?”

I dig my fingers into his hair, the texture fine and silky smooth. “Feels pretty real to me.”

His hands come to rest on my waist, the breadth of his palms making me feel delicate instead of simply short. “Yeah. I guess it does.”

He doesn’t kiss me again, like I figured he would. Instead, he opens his arms, that same small twist of his lips hinting at a smile. “Hug?”

A well of emotion, of vulnerability that I wasn’t sure I still had washes through me, and I tuck my head into the crux of his neck so he can’t see how much the simple offer means to me. His big arms wrap around me so tight it hurts, but it’s good pain, like he’s trying to hug the tiny me in tie dye pajamas more than a decade ago, too.

We stay locked together. Whatever passion we’d been working off is set aside as he holds me, his breath even while mine grows ragged. It’s sweet, caring, and absolutely everything to the angry little girl I used to be.

A few tears end up rubbed into his skin, cleansing the last of the grief I’d been clinging to for years. Tears that had been trying to fall for much too long, even if I wouldn’t let them.

As the emotion subsides, I’m no longer wallowing in the grief of a child, but rather inching back into the arousal of a half-naked woman pressed against a half-naked man who I really want to get to know better.

A low whistle has me pulling away from Liam’s chest, but not far, his grip keeping me close. Xander stands outlined by the floodlights behind us, the strip of fabric from his head lost, but his arm still bandaged. “This wasn’t what I was expecting to see when I finished cleaning up.”

“What, like you didn’t say you were fine with both of us being involved with her,” Liam huffs.

“Oh no, that I was expecting. I was preparing myself to see your naked ass, O’Connell, not cuddles. And unless you’re risking the bite of your zipper there, they don’t even look like post-coital cuddles.”

“Fuck off, Liu. It’s just a hug. You should try it sometime.”

The glint in his eye is all the warning I get before I’m squeezed from behind, Xander’s chest warm against my bare back, his arms just as tight around me as Liam’s, his nose pressed to my neck. I let out a sigh, relaxed between the two of them, even as my nipples grow harder, Liam’s dick rock solid beneath me, and Xander’s pressing with increasing urgency against my ass.

“Damn, you smell nice,” Xander mutters. “But as great as this is, my little savage princess, my adrenaline won’t let me just cuddle. If I should go take care of myself, let me know.”

Instead of answering, I twist in the nest of their arms and drag him forward to kiss me. He does, the kiss coated with suppressed violence, and I meet it beat for beat. After too short of a moment, he opens his eyes, his breath catching when he finds what the shadows had hidden from him. He hisses, then takes my naked breast in his palm with a groan.

“God, these are perfect,” he says. “No, fuck it. I’m not saying enough. You’re perfect, Cecelia Rodriguez. And I’d be happy to fight alongside you whenever and wherever you’ll have me.”

Liam runs his tongue along the shell of my ear, and I shiver. “I’m happy to take you up on that offer,” I say. “I don’t think Morozov is going to let the Rodriguez heir stay secret much longer.”

“I get first blood,” Liam whispers against my neck. “Since I had to miss out on this fight.”

“Heal up first, and we’ll see who gets to take out who,” I say, turning to him and kissing him as well, this kiss slower, deeper than Xander’s, but no less amazing.

One to start the fire, one to stoke it. And I’m left to burn in it.

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