Page 35 of Rejected Exile

As they lean towards me, getting the right angle to pull me up, their scents envelop me. I swear, the boy I knew only ever smelled like sweat and unwashed adolescence, but Roarke the man is all sharp citrus tang, deep bergamot, and the slightly hard-to-place scent of cloves. Just being this close to him makes my mouth water and my legs tighten with need.

Heat from Roarke brushes against my cheek. A tingle goes through me as he murmurs, "Ready?"

"Ready," Finn responds.

Then, in a smooth motion that shows off their stunning strength, the two men lift me smoothly out of the hole until my feet brush its edges. Roarke motions with his head, and the two of them take a few careful steps towards the stronger side of the porch, where they gently set me down.

All without letting me even so much as brush against the ragged edges of the hole, or breaking a sweat.

Heat pools between my thighs as I imagine what that kind of strength could do in the bedroom. I have to shake the thought off, though—now is not the time, and I doubt either one of them are thinkingthosesort of thoughts, given the state I'm in. Glancing down, I discover that my pants are ripped from the ankle to the knee on one side, and the knee to the thigh on the other, but thankfully there's only a bit of scraping and some bruising on my skin—no gashes or wounds.

"Thanks for the help," I tell them, grabbing the waistband of my torn pants and holding it tight. "I should go get cleaned up... and changed."

"Are you okay?" Roarke hovers near me, his hands in the air like he wants to reach out to touch me but is afraid of that static shock again. "I swear for a second I almost thought you were getting electrocuted.”

I swallow. "I'm alright. Just a little embarrassed. I knew not to walk over to that side of the porch."

Pacing around to face me, Finn stares at my torn jeans. "I hope those weren't designer."

"You think I wear my designer jeans to sand the floors of my house?"

"I would." He shoots me a grin. "And don't worry, I'm not complaining about the way you look. In fact, I quite appreciated the view from the other side of the porch."

"The view—what?"

Feeling a slight breeze against my lower back, I stretch my head around and swivel my hips. Staring down in shock, I feel the color drain from my face as I realize what Finn was talking about.

There's a gaping hole in the back of my jeans.

One that shows every inch of my satin pink panties.

Including the frilly lace bits at the edges, and a generous handful of the back of my thighs.

Blushing scarlet, I turn to face the guys—and catch Roarke ripping his gaze away from me, too late to go unnoticed. A little whimper of embarrassment leaves my mouth. It doesn't help that Finn is grinning, charm dancing in those eyes of his, his brows arched playfully.

"Don't worry," he says in a low voice full of heat, "I'm sure you're glad that you weren't wearing your granny panties."

"I—what!?"

"Finn." Roarke admonishes his friend, elbowing him in the side. "You—you shouldn't say that."

"What? You were looking at them too."

My mouth drops open. "Finn! It—it isn't like that. Roarke wouldn't." My eyes flick to Roarke, who is actuallyblushing, his strong jaw and summer tan skin splashed with color. "We grew up together. It isn't like that with us. I was with—"

The sentence snaps off in my mouth.I was with Kieran.Not anymore, though. And the Roarke I knew then isn't the one standing in front of me, his eyes looking anywhere but at me, an embarrassed frown twisting his lips.

"Don't worry, I know all about that sordid history." Finn snorts indelicately and shakes his head. "If you ask me, K should be hung for what he did to you."

"Finn." This time, there's a warning in Roarke's voice, his tone a deep rumble that comes from his strong, broad chest. "Enough. Leave her be."

To my surprise, Finn listens. His mouth actuallysnapsshut, and the playful expression leaves his face. Just like that—almost as if... as if he were a member of the pack being ordered around by his alpha.

But no. That doesn't make sense. Roarke isn't a leader—is he? Lance's words come back to me.I'm hoping Roarke Bell puts in a bid for alpha.That's what he said, and I laughed because all I could see was the skinny beanpole of a boy Kieran was always having to protect from bullies. But I changed—clearly, so did Roarke.

"I'll just... go inside and get dressed now." Unable to take one more second of embarrassment, I grab onto the ragged edges of my pants and back up towards the door, facing the guys so they don't get another eyeful of my satin-covered rear end. "If you're able to help with the porch... that'd be greatly appreciated."

"It's a death trap," Roarke says gravely. "We'll fix it as quickly as possible. For your safety."

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