He squeezed my throat tight enough that my vision started to black out, and I felt it the moment he came inside of me. He growled in my ear, and jerked his hips as his cum shot out of him in spurts. He released my throat, and as the oxygen rushed back into me, I shattered around him. My body wasn’t mine anymore as I hit the fucking stars and kept going.
Still, he murmured into my ear, “That’s my girl. Come for me, Vixen. Give it all to me, gorgeous. Fucking hell, you’re stunning. See how your pussy weeps for me.”
I was a shaking, soaking wet mess when he laid us down on the bed with his half-soft cock still inside of me. He pulled me to him, my back flush with his chest, and held me until my senses returned. My pussy was sore as hell, but my God, I regretted not a damn thing. He got out of bed and, when I protested, he kissed my forehead.
“I’ll be right back, gorgeous.”
I frowned but, true to his word, he was back no more than five minutes later with a wet washcloth and a glass of water.
He babied me into a sitting position and insisted I drink. I did so as he spread my legs again and gently, reverently cleaned me with the warm, wet cloth. Just like his brother had. He kissed the inside of my thigh, tossed the washcloth in my laundry bin, and pulled me close to him again as he sat back down. I set the glass on the nightstand and curled into him. The thumping of his heartbeat was becoming my new favorite sound, drowning out the little voice in the back of my mind telling me this was a bad idea. He grabbed the blanket from the foot of my bed and wrapped it around us and, for a few minutes, we sat in a peaceful silence.
That was, until my stomach growled loudly.
“What happened to that snack you promised me?” I quipped, and I felt his chest vibrate with a chuckle.
“It’s probably sitting on the counter getting cold.”
I looked up at him. “Well, do you think you can go get it? I’m not entirely sure my legs work yet.”
Hemade a sound that was all male satisfaction, and I smiled. He didn’t bother getting dressed as he left the room, and I found myself with an excellent view of his really nice ass. He glanced over his shoulder at me before heading down the stairs, and caught me staring unabashedly.
“Like what you see, Vixen?”
I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face even if I’d tried. “I’ve made it pretty damn clear I do. However… I’d love to see if I like the way you taste as much as I like the way you look.”
He winked at me before heading down the stairs. I stretched and eased myself under my comforter, feeling properly used and perfectly content. My phone was still sitting on the nightstand, and I reached for it. I took a picture of Mac’s discarded pants and sent it to Maria and Holly. Their response was immediate, and I was laughing when Mac came back in. He was carrying a massive Taco Bell bag, and I showed him the string of texts when he crawled under the covers with me. Much to my surprise, he took my phone and sent them a picture of the two of us in bed.
“Sorry, ladies, I’m stealing her for tonight.”
I was digging through the Taco Bell bag when he shut off my phone and tossed it to the side. Sometimes, I marveled at how well Mac knew me. Burritos, even cold ones, were top-notch post-sex food.
We sat there talking most of the night, munching on chips and telling each other stories. I hated not being able to be entirely truthful with him, but I weaved my past with Nicole’s as best I could. It was oddly reminiscent of my time in the cabin with Dalton. I found myself less and less able to lie to them.
At some point, Mac started talking about his past—nothing too detailed, just quiet pieces slipped between sips of soda and stolen bites of burrito. I wasn’t sure when his walls had come down, but I was quickly realizing that the man behind the armor might be one of my favorite people. He apologized for how cold he’d been when we first met,his voice rough with the kind of regret that doesn’t come easy. And as he spoke, I could feel the edges of old scars beneath every word. Someone had hurt him once—maybe more than once. And here he was, handing me trust like it wasn’t the most precious thing he had left. It wrecked something in me to know that I was going to break it. That this fragile, impossible thing between us couldn’t survive the weight of my lies. But I buried the guilt—deep—and let myself drown in what he was finally willing to give.
Sometime around three in the morning, after he had finally fallen asleep, I ran my hand down the side of his face. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the ceiling fan and Mac’s slow, even breathing. He lay next to me, one arm heavy across my stomach, his chest rising and falling against my side. His skin was warm. His heartbeat steady. We’d finally crossed the line we’d both been circling for months. And it had been… God, it had been everything.
I should have felt peace. Or at least the kind of sleepy bliss you see in the movies. But instead, I stared up at the ceiling, my mind spinning like a storm. There was a mic in the corner and in the air vent and, in the silence, I felt them like a heavy presence. Wired by Bridges. Monitored by Braxton. I had spent ages pretending not to care. That I could do what I wanted with my body. That I was entitled to this. Tothem. That as long as I did my job, nobody would question what I did with my nights. Or who I spent them with.
But I knew that wasn’t true.
Braxton wasn’t just suspicious anymore—he was watching. Listening. Judging. A quiet part of me called it jealousy. And soon I’d have to sit across from him again. Another debrief in another nondescript van or diner booth. Would he bring it up? Would he say my name the way he did when he pretended it was about the mission and not control?
Would they fire me? Maybe. Not because I slept with someone, I didn’t think. But because I cared. Because I wasn’t pretending anymore. BecauseNickyhad stopped being a mask, and started being real. Real enough to fall in love with two men who should’ve been nothing more than just part of the mission. Instead, they had somehow become part of me. I shifted slightly, trying not to wake Mac who murmured something in his sleep, and tightened his grip on me. My throat closed. God, I was in so much trouble.
Would I do it again? My gaze flicked back to the vent. Yeah. Yeah, I would. I hadn’t planned on this. The love I felt for these two took my breath away. I knew it was going to kill me to walk away. But denying my feelings, distancing myself from them… that would’ve taken a strength I’m not even sure Hercules possessed.
Braxton be damned. Let them listen. I was going to love them even if it killed me.
Chapter 16
Mac and I barely left the bedroom all day Thursday. At some point later in the evening, he got a call from Silas which brought our love fest to a tragic end. When he went to put his shirt back on, I stopped him and did something I had been dying to do—trailing my tongue along every line of ink, tasting and savoring every inch of his toned abdomen. It got us both so hot and bothered, he bent me over the dining room table and fucked me so hard we left marks on the floor from the table scooting across the floor.
I kissed him goodbye and watched him leave until his bike disappeared from view. I headed for the shower, but stopped when I got into the bathroom. At some point, he had braced me up against the shower wall and held me while I bounced on his cock. When I came, I had pulled on the shower curtain which came crashing down around us. He had promised to fix it before leaving but, big shock, we had gotten distracted. I grinned and went to grab my phone from the bedroom. I snapped a picture of the fallen rod and sent it to our group chat before fixing it myself.
After my shower, I checked my messages for their reply and laughed.
Dalton had said, “Gee, wonder how that happened.”
