He curses and then obeys, grabbing Shiloh’s hips and grinding into her. He looks almost pained as he orgasms, but he never breaks eye contact with me. It’s horribly, unforgivably intimate, and I should put a stop to it immediately.
But I…like it.
The more we work together, the more some part of me understands that Broderick and I aren’t that different at all. In fact, we’re terrifyingly similar and single-minded when we set our minds on something. On someone.
A thought for another time.
Broderick slumps down next to us. “Holy fuck.”
Shiloh relaxes against my body, her head on my breasts. She stretches, and the little wench immediately starts rocking her pussy on my leg. “Are we done?”
“You’re obviously not.” I run my hands down her back and grip her ass, hitching her a little higher on my thigh. “Wicked thing.”
“I can’t help it,” she whispers. “It’s like I’ve been bottled up for so long and…”
“I’m not complaining.” I manage to turn my gaze to Broderick. “Are you?”
His laugh is strained, his blue eyes so hot, it’s a wonder all three of us don’t burst into flames. “No. I’m not complaining.” He shakes his head. “Though I need more recovery time than you two do.”
“The perks of three.” I drag in a rough breath as Shiloh presses my breasts together and lavishes them with kisses. “Take your time recovering, husband.” I grin. “We’ll be ready for you when you are.”
We don’t stop for a long, long time. Shiloh’s stamina puts both Broderick and I to shame. Just when I’m about to collapse, he steps in and fucks her, and then they take turns eating me out until I’m damn near begging for mercy. By the time we exhaust ourselves, the sky outside the window has lightened in that gorgeous pre-dawn color that I’ve always loved.
Seeing it means a night well spent in my opinion.
I run a hand down my sweaty chest. “Shower?”
“Shower,” Shiloh agrees from where her face is pressed to Broderick’s thigh.
I should leave it at that, but I lost my head at some point during this process. I sift my fingers through her damp hair. “Stay in bed after. Sleep here. Both of you.”
Which is how we end up in a messy pile thirty minutes later, Shiloh between me and Broderick. She snuggles, because of course she does. She’s so fucking perfect, it makes my chest ache. All three of us in this bed is fucking perfect. I might be coming to terms with my feelings for Shiloh, but I’m more than self-aware enough to realize how seamlessly Broderick fits.
How well balanced we are as a trio.
I close my eyes and almost laugh when I realize she’s been using my shampoo. A little stamp of me in her hair, and I love it entirely too much. I let her closeness wash over me. No matter what happens next, we have this time. It will be enough.
It has to be.
I’m nearly asleep when a large arm drapes over our waists. I fight my eyes open to find Broderick pressed to Shiloh’s back and propped up on one arm, watching us. I’m too tired to define the strange look on his face, so I give him a soft smile and let sleep take me.
Chapter 25 Shiloh
I wake up so sore, I could almost convince myself I was tricked into joining one of Maddox’s workouts instead of having hours of intense sex. Then again, Maddox’s workouts never have me aching between my thighs. I’m smiling even as I open my eyes.
To a very, very bright room.
Too bright.
I shoot up. “We’re late.”
Next to me, Monroe throws an arm over her eyes. Even in my panicked state, I can’t help the pulse of heat that goes through me at the sight of her naked body. She’s so damn sexy, and I might have gotten close and personal with nearly every inch of her last night, but I can’t wait to do it again. Lust is a heady drug, which is the only explanation for how we both managed to sleep in.
“Monroe.”
“We’re not late. I had my assistant reschedule the one meeting I had.” She lifts her arm enough to open one eye. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to be able to concentrate today. Let’s stay in bed and have some fun.”
The pulse of heat inside me gets stronger. It’s oh so tempting to do exactly that, but there are things we really need to discuss. Like the fact that Monroe’s mother wants Broderick dead. As if the thought of him draws my attention, I can’t ignore his presence in this bed any longer. I twist to look at him.
He’s… Gods, he’s something else.
Broderick is on his stomach facing away from us. The position gives me an excellent view of his broad back and the reddened scratches marking it. Scratches originating with both me and Monroe. I shiver. The sheet is gathered low on his hips, revealing the upper curve of his ass, and I have the strangest desire to bend down and bite him.
If last night is anything to go by, doing so will ensure we don’t talk about anything at all for hours. While that’s an attractive solution to avoid uncomfortable topics, I can’t shake the feeling that the moment this stops and we’re forced to separate, Broderick to his duties and Monroe to hers, this fragile truce between them—between us—will end.
We need to talk some things out before then.
Still, I can’t help running my hand down Broderick’s spine. There’s a scar beneath his left shoulder blade, a slashing line that must have come from a knife. It’s faded with age, an injury he had long before we met. There are a lot of those to go around.
He shifts beneath my touch, but the only move he makes is to turn his face to us. “Morning.”
Monroe sighs and drops her arm. “The fact that Shiloh hasn’t leaped up to sit
