Could I trust him? Did I trust him? I reached deep into my memories for that boy I once knew—the boy I fell in love with, and the answer was there, tangled in with the thorny vines of my trauma. I pulled, ripped, and tore through every dark corner to retrieve those pieces that were precious to me.
The hours we had spent at the Honey Pot, filled with laughter and joy. The times we had hung out after school, and the confessions of our feeling for one another. I hugged those memories tight to my chest and stared into Decker’s eyes.
“I trust you and Krew, but I’m afraid, Deck,” I confessed, my eyes filled with unshed tears. “I’m so afraid.”
“I have you.” How ironic, that he said the same thing Krew professed to me last night. Once I divulge the truth, would they say the same?
I wrapped my arms around his torso and kissed Decker like I was giving my last breath to this man.
The kiss wasn’t gentle or sensual by any means. It was rough—all teeth, lips, and tongue. There was no comparison between the sweet, innocent first kiss we had shared on my sixteenth birthday and this kiss—how his mouth and hands were strumming my body to life. I was engulfed by the scorching desire that flowed from him into my veins and I relished the heat his body gave off.
The tight hold he had on me was comforting, until he pulled back and stared intently into my eyes.
“I need to be inside you, Regi. Tell me yes.” Decker dipped down and nipped at my neck, my collarbone, hard. I knew there was going to be a bruise. It made me heady thinking he had marked me. I waited a beat, expecting the familiar panic to rise again. Except there was none. No fear surging forth. No need to run. Only the hunger that filled me to the brim.
Decker kissed me once more—sweetly this time as though he was giving me time to mull over what he had asked. And I wanted to agree—so badly, but something was preventing the yes from leaving my mouth. Should I tell him that I wanted both men? That having both Krew and Decker here made me complete?
“What is it?” he asked in a whisper.
Just say it, Regina.
“I need Krew too.” I couldn’t look into his eyes, for fear I’d see disapproval. The guilt I had felt over the years for wanting to be with both of these men—for that level of depravity, I was sure I’d be consigned to the pits of hell.
“Christ,” Decker hissed, and my eyes darted to his. But it wasn’t censure I read on his face. It was happiness. “Krew!” Decker’s bellow echoed off the walls of the bedroom.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Krew
The moment Decker shouted my name, I raced up the steps as though a swarm of hornets was after me. I opened the bedroom door, my chest heaving, and my eyes riveted on Regina reclining on the bed, and my best friend was lying next to her.
“She needs us both,” Decker professed in a throaty rumble.
I walked to the bed and dropped to my knees beside it. I reached out and ran a finger over the fresh mark on her collarbone, then tenderly cupped her cheeks. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”
There was so much raw emotion roiling across her face. She leaned her head into my touch, and nuzzled against my calloused palm. She then reached out and touched Decker’s cheek. The turmoil I saw in her eyes calmed, like someone had flipped a switch in her head.
“There’s no past, or future. Just here and now. Just us,” she whispered.
Decker began kissing her, slow and unhurried.
“Deck,” Regina protested, her fingers gripping the back of his head.
“What do you need, baby?” he asked against her lips, then dipped down to the sensitive flesh of her neck, and began sucking hard, like he was marking her again.
The need to do the same had me get on the bed, next to them.
“I need more,” Regina confessed. “Please.”
I leaned in, kissing my way up to the crook of her neck—opposite to Decker—and sucked, leaving another mark. A loud moan escaped Regina’s lips, which amped up my desire to touch and taste these two people I’d loved for so long.
I trailed my hand down Regina’s arm to her exposed sex, then paused, my gaze catching on several thin, white scars on her thighs—along with a small bandage—and what the meaning behind them.
Decker straightened, his eyes zeroed in on her legs too, but remained silent on the subject. I knew there was going to a conversation in the near future and he’d demand a reason why she had done that to herself.
My soul ached at seeing Regina’s self-inflicting wounds. The pain she must have endured to harm herself like that was unimageable. I knew she was carrying a heavy secret—something so profound, something she wasn’t willing to share with us. But those battle scars, and the fresh bandage, proved one thing clearly; she was still fighting those demons.
Instead of demanding an explanation, I didn’t want our connection broken, I ran a finger down the small patch of curls. “Part your legs for me,” I said, before sliding a digit between her slick folds. “You’re so wet for us.”
