Page 32 of Crush & Byte
“You don’t have to run anymore, River.Not from us.”Crush’s gentle voice settled over me like a warm blanket.“Never from us.”
As I looked from Crush’s earnest face then over my shoulder to see Byte’s tender smile, something settled in my chest, that final piece of my heart clicking into place I hadn’t known I needed.For the first time in my life, leaving was the last thing I wanted to do.
“So we can stay?”I knew I was shit at hiding how I felt.Likely, both men could see hope blossom inside me.
“Yeah, baby.We can stay.”Crush squeezed my hand tightly.
“For as long as you want,” Byte added, bending to press a kiss to the top of my head.
“What about your obligations at home?Your club?What about Mrs.Walsh?”
“Maggie can take care of herself.Besides, once you left and she knew you were with us, she went back to pretending to need to stay in that assisted living place.”
“Huh?”His read on Maggie’s actions surprised me.“What do you mean pretending?”
Byte grinned, chuckling lightly.“She’s cute.”Was he referring to me or Mrs.Walsh?
“I know.”Crush grinned and shook his head.“Honey, Maggie is there because she likes it.No other reason.She likes the people there and she likes to take care of them by making sure the residents get the care they need.She runs that place from the inside on the down low.Trust me on this.”
I raised my eyebrows, nodding.“I’ll concede that.But what about your lives?Don’t you have jobs or something?”
“Anything we need to do we can do from here.Got portable Internet and a generator.”Byte lowered his mouth to my neck, grazing lightly with his lips.“And I’ve already let Lemon know we’re gonna be here a while.She’s anxious to meet you.”
“Who’s Lemon?”
“Our vice president,” Crush explained.“She and Rocket know everything up to this point.”
“Rocket’s our president and Lemon’s husband.”Byte kissed my neck again before tugging me to my feet, sitting in my chair, then pulling me into his lap.I tried to protest but didn’t mean it.It was what I thought I should do.Byte ignored my protests and settled with his arms around me, and I simply snuggled against him.
I wasn’t naive enough to think this would be easy.Three people trying to build something together never could be.But sitting there, surrounded by their care and desire chipped away a little bit more at my reservations.
After the guys cleaned up the breakfast dishes -- I’d tried to help but had been overruled -- I took Byte’s hand, my heart hammering against my ribs.The conversation earlier filled me with confidence I hadn’t expected.Knowing they wanted me for more than just my body was more of a turn-on than I expected.I tugged Byte toward the stairs, meeting his eyes with a boldness that seemed to surprise him.
“Come on,” I said, my voice steady despite the flutter in my stomach.“I want to show you something.”
“What’s that?”he asked, already following me, his fingers interlaced with mine.
“Me,” I answered simply.
I felt Crush’s gaze on us as we climbed the stairs, heard his chair scrape back as he rose to follow.He kept his distance, giving us space while making it clear he wasn’t about to miss whatever was about to happen.The knowledge that he would watch us sent a thrill down my spine, a shiver of anticipation that had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with desire.
The loft was bathed in late morning light, the rumpled bed still bearing the imprints of our bodies from earlier.I led Byte to the edge of the mattress, pushing gently on his chest until he sat.Then I stood between his spread knees, looking down at him with what I hoped was seductive confidence rather than nervous energy.
“I want you,” I told him, running my fingers through his dark hair.“And I want him to watch.”
Byte’s hands settled on my hips.“Whatever you want, honey.”His voice had dropped an octave, rough with desire.“You call the shots.”
I heard Crush enter the loft, crossing to the chair in the corner.He settled in with a creak of wood, his presence like a physical touch even from across the room.He was naked, lazily stroking his cock, his gaze sharp.
With deliberate slowness, I reached for the hem of Byte’s shirt, dragging it up his torso to reveal the lean muscles beneath.He raised his arms, allowing me to pull it over his head and toss it aside.I ran my hands down his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath my palm.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmured, bending to press my lips to the hollow of his throat.His skin was warm, carrying a scent that was becoming familiar, uniquely Byte.A little like spice and cedar.
Byte’s breath hitched as I trailed my fingers lower, tracing the ridges of his abdomen, following the thin line of dark hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his sweatpants.I hooked my fingers in the elastic, looking up at him through my lashes.
“These too,” I said.
He lifted his hips, allowing me to slide his sweats down his legs.His erection sprang free, thick and ready.I couldn’t help but stare, appreciation mingled with a flutter of nervousness.Last night had been about exploring.This was different.This was my invitation for them to make good on their declarations they wanted me for themselves.
