Page 3 of Ruthless Possession
Dad reluctantly backs down but keeps his eyes locked on them as Matthew slips a corsage on my wrist, his fingers lingering on my pulse point.
"You look beautiful," he whispers.
Trenton doesn't speak as he places the second corsage on my other wrist, his jaw tight, his gaze steady on mine like he's daring me to look away. Two flowers, two boys, marking me as theirs.
Outside, Trenton's sleek black car waits. Matthew opens my door, helping arrange my dress so it won't wrinkle. The care they take with me makes my heart stutter.
At prom, heads turn when we enter. The whispers start immediately.
"Did she seriously bring both of them?"
"How does plain little Morgan have the two hottest guys in school?"
Chelsea Miller's face twists with jealousy. "Pathetic attention grab," she mutters as we pass.
I falter, but Matthew's hand finds my back. Trenton shifts slightly in front of me, angling his shoulder between me and whatever comes next.
"Ignore them," Matthew murmurs against my ear. "They don't matter."
Trenton leads us to a table in the corner, his eyes scanning the room like he's identifying threats and exits. Always the protector.
"Dance with me," Matthew says when a slow song plays, extending his hand. I take it, letting him guide me to the dance floor. His body is warm against mine, confident as he moves us in perfect rhythm.
Over his shoulder, I see Trenton watching, an intensity in his gaze that makes my skin tingle. When the song ends, Matthew delivers me to him without a word.
Trenton doesn't ask, he just pulls me close, one large hand splayed across my lower back. He dances differently, less fluid, more controlled power.
"Everyone's staring," I whisper against his chest.
"Let them," he says simply. "They're jealous."
When we return to the table, Principal Warner approaches, frowning. "Ms. Scott, school policy is one date per student."
Before I can respond, Matthew smiles disarmingly. "We're just friends, sir. Three friends attending together."
The lie slides off his tongue smooth as silk. The principal hesitates, clearly not believing it but unwilling to make a scene.
"Just keep it appropriate," he warns before walking away.
A muscle tics in Trenton's jaw. Matthew's smile never falters, however.
Later, we escape to the football field, my heels sinking into the grass. Matthew loosens his tie, sprawling on the bleachers. Trenton remains standing, always vigilant.
"Next year," I say quietly, "you'll both be gone."
The thought has been haunting me for months. Both enlisted, both leaving for basic training weeks after graduation.
"Not gone," Matthew corrects. "Just away for a while."
Trenton kneels before me, takes my hands in his. "We'll come back for you."
"Promise?" My voice breaks.
"Promise," they say together.
Under the stadium lights, Matthew kisses me first. Gentle, teasing. Then Trenton. Consuming, possessive. Two entirely different hungers, and somehow I need both of them.
I don't know what the future holds, but I know this: I am theirs, and they are mine, and distance won't change that.
