Page 356 of Ruthless Desires: Vol. Two
I stumble over my feet, my blood pressure spiking. “W-what?”
“What do you mean, you saw him?” Rhett is standing up straight and on high alert. “Did you talk to him?”
“No, nothing like that. Saw him from across the hall. He was watching Ben. Looked… like he regretted how he left things. But he kept his distance.”
“So he didn’t look like he was going to approach us at all? Or follow us?” Ell asks, his brows furrowed.
“Not at all. He was with a woman and seemed more interested in her than us. Seeing him… It had me thinking, you know?” Oliver swings me around, never losing his lighthearted touch despite Ell’s and Rhett’s worry. “Reminded me of everything we’ve overcome. That we’re free.”
At that, the guys relax.
“So we’re good, then?” I glance between the three of them.
Elliot nods. “He wanted out of that life just as badly as we did toward the end. No way he’ll disrupt his life—or ours—ever again.”
I sag against Oliver, my forehead hitting his shoulder. “Thank god.”
“Sorry for scaring you all.” Oliver squeezes me, his lips brushing against my temple in a comforting gesture. “I just… I’m just really happy, that’s all.”
“So am I,” Ell says as he rests his head on Rhett’s shoulder. “And I’m happy that we’re safe.”
“More than safe,” I say softly, and he nods at the gentle reminder.
It’d be foolish to say that there haven’t been lingering aftereffects from what happened three years ago. I still have nightmares—of drowning, of finding myself alone again. Sometimes, I still see the panic and stress on the guys’ faces when they find themselves back there. In the fear of losing me, or each other. In the anger and the need to find some form of justice, even if it didn’t bring Sammy back. In thehelplessness.
But for the most part, we’re okay. Rhett is sleeping better. My nightmares are few and far in between. Elliot lets himself relax now. And Oliver? He’s still anxious—hell, so am I—but it’s not nearly as bad as it used to be.
“Breakfast?” Oliver asks.
My heart squeezes. We haven’t needed as many distractions as we used to, but Oliver is still the king of pulling one out of thin air when we do.
“That sounds good,” Ell says.
We all busy ourselves prepping and cooking, and slowly, the leftover tension from bringing up Axel fades. By the time we’re actually eating, we’re completely back to normal. Our laughs are easy, the weight on our shoulders light.
While we clean up, Rhett rinses off the dishes, and I load them into the dishwasher. It’s a chore that some people probably dread, but the charm of doing housework with these three has never truly worn off for me. It reminds me of all they’ve given me—of the safety and security that comes with being loved by them. Once we’re done, I dry my hands and pull Rhett in for a long, slow kiss. I press my hips into his, running my fingers down his sides and tickling lightly.
He tenses. “You’re asking for trouble, sweetheart.”
“Am I?” I ask innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Rhett raises a brow and gives me a look—not of annoyance but of a challenge. “That so?”
“Mmhmm.”
With a grin, I brush my fingers across the skin just inside his hip bones. He grunts and grips my wrists, holding me captive with a single hand.
“You’d think, after all the orgasms you’ve had in the past twenty-four hours, that you’d be satisfied for at least a day. Or is that not what you want?” Reaching around me, he squeezes my ass, and then he slaps it so hard I yelp. But he sees it—the way I have to bite my lip to keep a moan from following. “That’s what I thought.”
Next thing I know, Rhett is throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me out of the kitchen. Elliot and Oliver exchange a knowing glance before following. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened. In the living room, Rhett settles on the love seat and spreads me across his lap, my ass in the air. I prop myself up on my elbows and glance back at him. His gaze is focused on my ass, only covered by the thin fabric of my floral pajama shorts. He spanks me again, and this time I can’t hold back my moan. Then he’s yanking my shorts down, only to let out a low whistle.
“Nopanties? Were you planning this, sweetheart?”
I whimper, trying not to squirm. I wasn’t planning this exactly, but I can’t deny that I was hoping for something. The guys can tease me about being insatiable all they want, but they’re exactly the same, and they know it. Again, Rhett slaps my left ass cheek. The sting is intense, but it only lasts for a second before pleasure rushes through me.
“Is this what you wanted? Hmm? You needed someone to remind you what happens when you’re a bad, bad girl?” Rhett’s fingers trail down the backs of my thighs, and when they come back up, they brush in between my legs. He barely touches me, but it’s enough to light my body up with desire, and he knows it. “And when you’re good for us?”
“P-please. I’ll be good.”
