Page 24 of Trust in the Fallen

My foot is propped up on the ottoman in front of me, a bag of peas resting on it, to bring down the swelling Elias claimed. If I didn’t know better, I would think it was just to give them a reason to sandwich me between their warm bodies and keep me close.

But that’s ridiculous. Isn’t it?

“Do you always think this loud, angel?” Wyatt asks, a hint of teasing in his tone.

I look up at him and find him already staring down at me. “I’m not sure.”

“I guess we’ll have to turn that brain off again, won’t we, pretty girl?” Elias tugs my body toward him, easily lifting me until my back is pressed against him while Wyatt carefully relocates my foot to rest on his bare thigh.

It was hard enough to keep my eyes off them when they were fully clothed, but since we finished in the bedroom, neither of them has bothered to pull on more than a pair of shorts, and I’m painfully aware of how hard it’s been not to stare at their bare chests and defined arms.

The scorching heat at my back warms me as the bag of pea is discarded back on the ottoman, and rough hands move up my calves in a teasing motion. “There’s something else we need to discuss, isn’t there Leighton?” Wyatt prompts.

I stare at him, trying to work out what he could possibly be talking about, but nothing of note comes to me. Maybe it’s the exhaustion that bites at the edge of my consciousness.

“Do you care to repeat what you told me in the shower so Elias can hear?”

I drop my gaze to where my hands have fallen in my lap. Oh that. I don’t want my insecurities out on show, not with these two men who so effortlessly break down the walls I’ve spent my entire life building.

Large hands settle on my belly and hold me tight, silently telling me I’m safe here, even if I’ve never felt safe anywhere else.

“I just said that I’d had the time of my life, but I couldn’t understand what either of you were getting out of it,” I whisper. There’s no point trying to evade answering because Wyatt just would have paraphrased, and it’s better coming from me. Less room for interpretation.

The room falls silent apart from the dim whisper of voices on the television. One of them must have turned the volume down as they repositioned me. Elias’s body tenses behind me, his arms holding me firmly so I couldn’t escape even if I wanted to, which despite the conversation we’re having, I still wouldn’t want to.

I can’t help but fiddle with the scar on my hand, the one Jason gave me last Christmas when I accidentally broke a champagne glass. He swore up and down that he didn’t mean it, that he was only placing the broken fragments into my palm when he lost his balance and applied more pressure than needed. But after tonight I’m not so sure. There’s a list of injuries I’ve had over the last five years that just don’t quite add up if you look at them past face value.

I chance a glance up at Wyatt, but he’s looking right past me to Elias. If I didn’t know better I would think they’re communicating silently, but people don’t really do that, do they?

“Why do you think we wouldn’t be getting anything out of being with you, Leighton?” Elias rumbles, his deep voice startling me from my thoughts.

“Well, I guess because you’re both so good at what we did, and I’m just…me.” I shrug and immediately internally berate myself. Surely I could have explained that better. Surely I could have given a better reason than I’m just me. “I mean, I guess there’s a reason Jason cheated on me.”

That’s your idea of a helpful addition?I admonish myself.

Both men stiffen, and the arms around my waist only seem to tighten, making sure there’s nowhere I can go. But even with how awkward this conversation is, there’s still nowhere I’d rather be.

“Just so we’re clear, angel,” Wyatt rumbles. “You’re under the impression that you somehow deserved for that fucking piece of shit to cheat on you,andthat also means you can’t see why Elias and I are interested in you?”

I open my mouth to respond, but I guess that is what I said, and every time I speak I only seem to make it worse. My mother used to say I had a big mouth as a child. Maybe I didn’t grow out of it as well as I thought I had. I give a small nod before looking away. Their scrutiny is almost more than I can handle, and staring right into Wyatt’s eyes right now is just too much.

The arms around me move, and for a second I panic. He’s going to leave. I’ve pointed out the obvious, and he’s realized I’m right. Will they both go? Or I suppose I will, seeing as I’m in their house? I’m not sure where I’ll stay tonight. I can hardly go home to Jason tonight after how angry he was, smelling of the two men who saved me from him.

But a second later, my fears are squashed when Elias perches me on his knee, and his palm cups my cheek, forcing me to look at him.

“We’re going to get something straight right fucking now, Leighton, and the next time we have this conversation, we’ll be having it with you over my knee while Wyatt holds a vibrator to that pretty pussy of yours and forces you to come over and over again, even when you beg us to stop. Do we understand each other?” His stern voice gives no invitation for argument.

“Yes Sir.”

“That asshole doesn’t deserveyou,Leighton. He doesn’t see what an incredible woman he’s had by his side, and that’s his fuck up, not yours. Men like him blame their mistakes on everyone else, never taking responsibility for their own actions. But this is not on you. Nothing he’s done is your fault, no matter how many times he tells you it is,” he pauses, and his thumb brushes over my bottom lip. His harsh gaze softens slightly before he continues, “Now, on to what Wyatt and I get out of having you here with us.” He looks to his friend who must have moved closer as he takes my face in his hand and directs my eyes to meet his. “You’re fucking beautiful, angel. The moment I saw you in that bar, I fucking knew this is where you belonged. What do we get out of it? Every fucking thing. We’re selfish bastards for coveting an angel we don’t deserve, but we’re not going to give you up.”

“You don’t even know me,” I whisper because I know my voice will break under the weight of how true those words are. And while my inexperience might be endearing right now, and their savior complex might flare to life because they see me as a damsel in distress, the more time they spend with me, the more they’ll realize just how dull I really am.

Which is why this can only ever be tonight. Because at least then there’ll be two people who were never disappointed in me, and I can cling to that for the rest of my life.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR

WYATT

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