Page 43 of Dreadful

Movement from the corner of my eye pulls my attention. The blinds in the far bedroom shift, just slightly.

My imagination supplies the missing brother, and the tingling starts in my toes. I suck in a sharp breath, a small moan drifting free.

“Oh, god. I think—I’m gonna⁠—”

One short whistle from Cruz cuts across the yard. And the feeling dissolves like smoke.

A second later, the patio door squeaks and Coco strolls out with a wide, wooden tray of snacks and drinks.

Rafe’s hand finds the strap of my bikini top and tugs it back into place without a word. His other hand doesn’t move. Not an inch. His mouth brushes my ear as he murmurs, “Stay still, baby.”

My ribs feel too small. My hands are still wrapped around both of their cocks, and my thoughts are coming in sideways.

Alarm punches through the lusty fog when Coco walks in our direction.

“Shit,” Gage mutters.

I brush my thumb over his tip without thinking. He pulls in a sharp breath, one hand resting on the top of mine as he gently removes my tight grip. Then he lifts my hands to his mouth, pressing his lips to each knuckle in turn, eyes on mine the whole time.

Something in them says later like a carnal promise he intends to keep.

“How quiet can you be, baby?” Rafe murmurs against my jaw. Déjà vu washes over me like a soft wave.

“Not that quiet,” I hiss, my gaze darting left and right.

“You fucking owe me, man,” gage mutters as he shoves off the wall. He swims toward the ladder on the side without another word. “Hey, Ma. you got anything to drink? I’m fucking parched.”

“Course I do, honey. Gotta take care of my boys,” Coco says.

Rafe presses two fingers to the edge of my chin, forcing my gaze back to him. “Stay with me. We’ll go together, yeah?”

I’m already nodding. “Yes, yes. Please, let’s get the fuck out of this pool.”

He tsks with a slow shake of his head. Then his fingers start that slow glide again, hitting that spot with every curl.

“Rafe.” His name comes out in a beg.

Over my own labored breathing, I hear Gage’s voice carry across the yard, louder than usual, easy and warm. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him steer Coco toward the little drink bar on the far side of the patio, one arm slung around her shoulders, her back angling away from us. Good. Good.

Rafe’s eyes find mine, and the look in them makes my stomach drop.

I twist my wrist and use the heel of my palm to push his boxer briefs down further, then angle the head of his cock until it brushes my clit, and the contact pulls a sharp inhale out of me. I stroke him slow and deliberate, base to tip, the way he’s been working me, and his whole body goes taut.

He moans into my mouth, barely sound at all, and I swallow it whole.

The tingles start in my thighs. When he slides three fingers inside me and curls them all at once, I come apart against his hand with a moan I only half-manage to muffle against his shoulder. He follows me over the edge a breath later, and I feel the warmth of it against my skin, slick and startling and unbearably intimate.

For a second, neither of us moves.

My pulse is still loud in my ears when I finally slip out of his grip and haul myself up onto the pool’s edge. I don’t look at the patio. I can’t. I grab my towel from the chair without wringing out my hair and head for the side door that opens near the bedrooms instead, bare feet quiet on the warm concrete.

I’ll come back out when my heart rate calms down.

SIXTEEN

CRUZ

My brothers have their hands and mouths all over Bellamy in the pool. Meanwhile, I had to sit and eat shit, watch the fucking perimeter like it was any other day on this hellish timeline.