Page 40 of Rescuing Ally: Part 1

Gabe lets out a low sound, something between a scoff and a dark chuckle.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he murmurs, thumb dragging slow circles over my pulse. “That’s not us.”

“That’s what I’m realizing.” I feel it in the weight of their stares and the sharpness of their restraint. I feel it in the way Hank hasn’t moved a muscle, and yet somehow, I still know he’s the one controlling this entire moment.

I shift my gaze to him, my heart pounding against my ribs.

“You embrace what you are, and I don’t have to feel like less because I want it too.”

His blue eyes hold mine, steady, unblinking.

“You’re right,” Hank agrees, voice like a quiet promise. “We don’t pretend.”

And that’s the difference.

It’s not a role they step into. It’s who they are.

And that’s why, for the first time in my life, I can let go.

I inhale deeply, rolling my shoulders back, my body making the decision before my mind fully catches up.

Gabe watches me, his wicked smirk sharp, knowing.

Hank cocks his head slightly, assessing. Calculating.Then, his lips curve—not a smile, exactly. More like recognition. Understanding. Possession.

His fingers skim my jaw, a deliberate test. He tips my chin up, forcing me to hold his gaze.

“My question for you, luv…” His thumb brushes my bottom lip, applying the slightest pressure. “Are you ready for what that means?”

“Yes.” I inhale, my voice steady. “And for the record, my safeword is… marshymellow.”

Hank stills.

Gabe blinks.

Then, slow as sin, a Cheshire grin spreads across Hank’s face.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Gabe murmurs, voice thick with amusement and something darker. “You’re going to regret telling us that.”

Hank’s low growl sends a shiver straight through me.

“Strip her,” he commands, his voice like gravel. “Slowly.”

Chapter 14

“With pleasure.”Gabe’s smirk deepens, his gaze raking over me like a slow burn. His fingers brush the hem of Hank’s shirt—my shirt now, oversized and soft against my bare skin.

“Slowly,” Hank repeats, dragging the word out like he’s savoring it.

Heat pools low in my belly.

I should be nervous. I should be second-guessing. But I’m not.

Because I trust them.

Because I want this.

Gabe lifts the hem of my borrowed shirt an inch, his knuckles grazing my thigh, and I shiver.

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