Page 70 of Lose Me In The Shadows

“Oh, fuck,” Kara said, laughing on his chest. “That was… fuck.”

“Yeah,” Luke said, on top of her. He stood, coaxing a rag-doll Kara off Micah’s body and guiding her into the bathroom.

Conor looked at Micah and offered him a hand. And Micah, knees weak and body sated, stood and joined him as they entered the bathroom to care for their woman and each other.

He spoke a silent prayer—something he hadn’t done in a long time—that he could keep this, and this wasn’t just a tease of a life he’d never have. Determination filled him. Prayer was nice, but Micah didn’t have faith in it. He did, however, have faith in his own will, so he vowed that this was the first of many, not the last of one.

God.

That was…

That was…

Kara didn’t know what that was. Hot, that’s what that was. But the whole experience felt like more. Was more. Like they’d all turned a corner with each other—evidenced not by the way Luke held her with one arm as he turned on the shower and tested the water temperature with the other, but by the way she let him.

“You can put me down?” she said, surprised it came out as a question. Although her legs felt like they’d give out on her the second she touched the tile floor of the shower.

“I could,” he agreed. “I don’t want to.” But he released her, turning her around and setting her down. She stumbled slightly, knees buckling, and he caught her around the waist.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he murmured.

Sweetheart.She loved when he called her sweetheart, just like she loved when Micah called her baby or baby girl, and Conor called her whatever kind of girl suited his mood and her actions at the moment.

Kara’s chest ached and she leaned back against him.

Conor and Micah joined them, and it was a tight squeeze. The hotel was beautiful and the shower was big, but it wasn’t four people big, especially when three of those people were giants. Not like the cabin, which had been made with the purpose of a four-person shower in mind.

Maybe one day, she’d get a chance to test it out.

Fuck, she was planning for the future. Did wedding registries and picking out a dog from the shelter come next?

“Close your eyes, good girl,” Conor told her, and she did, reluctantly relaxing into his hold. He lathered shampoo into her hair, massaging her scalp with his big hands.

Luke still held her by the waist, stroking her hip through the aftershocks and trembling. Not just from the sex, but the way they were taking care of her, like she was something precious and not just the fuck toy she’d accused them of seeing her as.

Could this be real? Could this be something she stuck around for? She was halfway there, she knew they cared about her—in their own ways, at least.

No, she couldn’t. That way lay madness. And pain.

“How are you doing, tired girl?” Conor asked as he rinsed her hair.

Oh, they were talking now? Kara blinked in surprise. Her eyes stung from the shampoo, tearing up.

“Crap. Someone pass me a—”

A washcloth was passed to Conor, who wet it and lightly dabbed it over Kara’s eyes until the stinging was gone.

He continued. “You saw a lot tonight. I just want to see how you’re handling it.”

“She’s handling it like a champ,” Micah murmured, his hands working their way down over her stomach, lathering as he went. “She was turned on by the blood and violence and gore. My little murder baby.”

Kara was equal parts disgusted with herself and lit up by his approval.

She didn’t say anything.

“Kara,” Conor prompted.

“Yes,” she admitted, glad her eyes were still shut so she didn’t have to see their expressions. “I was turned on that you hurt him because he touched me. I don’t know what that says about me.”

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