by Ophelia Bell
“That’s actually kind of sweet,” I say. “It’s the kind of thing that’d piss me off if I knew my brothers were doing it, but from you guys, I kind of like it.”
Ben rolls over and crawls under the sheets, and I get up and head to Drake’s bathroom to turn on the shower. I pee first, then do a quick wash and head back into the bedroom, wrapped in a towel.
The three of them are propped up in the bed with Ben in the middle. I know where I should fit—between the twins—but right now I want to feel closer to Drake, to let him know I will keep him close despite whatever he tells me. So I climb over him and settle between him and Ben, a low buzz of contentment blanketing the naked awareness of wherever our bodies touch. Drake slips his arm around me and nuzzles the top of my head with a soft, contented hum.
“So… you noticed me from the start? Is that what you’re going to tell me?” I ask, peeking up at him.
He smirks, then indulges me with a nod. “I was just curious, at first. I’d only seen your resume and transcripts when Flores asked me to accept you for the internship. Usually people who look that good on paper have personality flaws of some sort that you don’t see until an interview. You looked too good to be true. I was prepared to learn your records had been doctored somehow and that you weren’t really who you seemed to be. I don’t see many double majors in computer science and finance.
“But you surprised me. From day one, I heard nothing but good things. You were young, pretty, ambitious, and smart, if a little intense and prone to hyperfocus on a task. You asked all the right questions. Every manager whose department you spent time in was impressed, and disappointed when you rotated out. It wasn’t until the day you asked to meet with me and charged in, pissed about a flaw you found in one of the pieces of software we use that I really took notice though.”
I chuckle. “I remember. It was such a stupid little bug. The kind of thing that should’ve been caught.”
“And would’ve cost us millions, if you hadn’t found it. Which is why I wonder why you chose to double-major instead of just focusing entirely on programming.”
“I like both, and when I didn’t find a major that merged them, I decided I’d just make my own. My advisor thought it was crazy, but she helped me anyway.”
“I saw what a pit bull you can be when you latch onto a problem. It surprised me how turned on I was. I wanted to see what your workday looked like so that was when I started observing you. Not you, but your work.”
I narrow my eyes, “Because it’s only crossing a line if you’re actually watching me and not just my work screen? Uh-huh.” I give a dubious nod, and he purses his lips.
“I’d have never known about the cameras if I hadn’t.”
“I probably would have said something if I hadn’t gotten a reaction from you guys right away. Like you said, I’m a pit bull with a problem.”
“I love that about you,” he says, squeezing me a little tighter. “There’s very little I don’t love about you, in fact.”
I look up into his eyes, heart in my throat, and what I see there is confirmation of my unspoken question. But I can’t say it yet; it feels like it’s too soon for us to share those words. So I just kiss him and slide down under the covers, snuggling close.
22
Drake
I’m trapped in a never-ending hallway of doors with red lights over them. Each door has a video screen in the center displaying the inhabitants within, engaged in lurid sex. None of them are enjoying it. Some make a show, try to fake it, but they can’t hide the pain and despair in their eyes. They can’t hide the tears streaking their faces.
The second I stop to watch for too long, each face morphs into one I know. It’s Elle trapped in the room, forced to do unspeakable things with whomever is willing to pay for the privilege to fuck her. I’m drawn to every screen, but shame fills me each time I look, and I tear my eyes away, sick that I found it remotely arousing before moving to the next door, hoping to see a different scene, hoping to find just one door is unlocked so I can release her.
But it’s always the same. The same cycle of curiosity, arousal, and horror, followed by a deep, twisting nausea gripping my gut and no key to unlock any of the doors.
The world won’t let me turn around and run back the way I came, so I have no choice but to keep pushing forward, keep looking into the rooms, keep seeing her face. I can choose her, take her home, make her mine, but that can’t be the only way to save her. And what about the others? I can’t save them all. All the Elles trapped in cages like dogs.
I trudge on, tortured by the sounds of their cries mixed with the put-on pleasure noises some of them make. If I close my eyes, they sound like trapped, wounded animals, which is even worse. I should go back but the power to open the doors eludes me.
When I reach the end of the hallway, I’m facing down the barrel of a gun. Arturo Flores holds the grip, his finger on the trigger. His eyes blaze like hot coals and he sneers at me.
“No one is worthy of looking at my daughter, especially not a filthy pervert like you.”
The echo of the gunshot rings in my ears as I bolt upright out of sleep. I’m breathing hard, clutching at the bed.
“Drake?” Elle murmurs sleepily beside me, grabbing my hand. I realize I’ve been squeezing the hell out of her thigh and ease my grip.
“What the fuck?” one of the twins mutters—Baz, I think. He sits up and turns on the light. Beside him, Ben leans on one elbow, blinking.
“Bad dream?” Ben asks.
I heave a shuddering breath. My throat is too tight from the fresh horror of what my brain dredged up to speak, so I just nod. It isn’t an unfamiliar dream, except the ending was different this time.
“Want to talk about it?” Elle asks, rubbing my back.
I shake my head, unable to look at her. My eyes feel hot. My chest burns. When the spasms start, I’m unprepared, unable to stop them.
“Fuck,” Ben mutters, slipping down the bed to climb out at the foot. He rounds to my side. “Shove over, we got you, hermano.”
Elle wraps her arms around my shoulders as the first racking sob bursts forth and the tears come. She pulls me down against her soft body, scooting back and pulling me to the center of the bed with her, displacing Baz, who slips out silently. Ben spoons me from behind, his big arm tight around my chest. It constricts my breathing, but somehow the pressure comforts, makes it easier to breathe through the tears.
This is not me. I don’t break down. I haven’t shown an ounce of weakness since that day at the Kennel almost fifteen years ago. The dreams have haunted me since, but never to this degree. Maybe because I don’t often sleep this much in a single night. But for the first time I have something too precious to lose. More precious than my family’s legacy, the company my grandfather started and my father nearly destroyed.
I have Elle. And to some degree the twins too, though at this point I know I’m still working on building their trust.
It takes a few minutes for the images to fade from my mind, for Elle’s gentle words and caresses to purge the vileness. I bury my head against her throat, clinging to her.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“It’s okay, Drake. I just want to help. Will you tell me what’s wrong?”
I become aware of something hard jabbing me in the back of my thigh and crane my head to peek at Ben. “Only if he’ll get his dick under control. I’m sorry, man, but I’m not really in the mood.”
Ben shifts his hips and reaches down between us, grimacing. “Sorry, it’s got a mind of its own. But you can’t blame me; sex worked for me when I woke up screaming.”
“Yeah, but your trauma wasn’t about sex,” Elle says. “I think Drake’s is. Am I right?”
I hate admitting it, but I nod, then frown when I realize we’re missing someone. “Where’d Baz go? Did he leave?”
“I’m here. Just wanted to give you a little space,” Baz says from somewhere else in the room. I turn to see
him sitting in the armchair in the corner, elbows on his knees. He’s wearing shorts now and holding a water glass, which he gets up and hands to me before settling on the edge of the bed near our feet. “Thought this might help. Also, I think both of you need therapy. Toni has someone she likes. Maybe once all this is over, you two can be shrink buddies or something.”
Sitting up to drink, I narrow my eyes over the glass. After I swallow, I ask, “What about you? Didn’t you witness the same carnage Ben did?”
Baz shares a look with Elle, then nods. “Yeah, but I didn’t hold it inside. I talked to Elle about it, even though I probably shouldn’t have burdened her with it. I was also driving the car that night. Ben was the lucky one who got to hold Manny’s dead body in the back seat while we drove to get help.”
I wince, the fact sinking in that our experiences are vastly different, though obviously no less traumatizing.
“Whatever you do, don’t pull away, please.” Elle cards her fingers through my hair and holds on, forcing me to turn my head to face her. “You’re not alone. Neither of you. If you don’t want to see a therapist, Baz and I will listen, won’t we?”
I look at Baz, who’s giving me a solemn stare. He presses his lips together and nods, then squeezes my calf through the sheets. “Whatever you need. We’re in this together now. As far as I’m concerned, we’re partners.”
I can’t help but lift an eyebrow at that, and he immediately narrows his eyes and points at me. “My ass is not an option. I figure you’ve got enough to keep you satisfied between Elle and Ben. But if you need to talk, I’m here for you.”
“That actually means a lot. Thank you, man.”
23
Elle
Drake is back to normal the next morning, or at least putting on a good show. He’s all business, though, rising at the crack of dawn and disappearing for an hour while I lounge in bed with the twins. We don’t fool around, all three of us agreeing that we’re pretty well spent and that my vagina needs a rest, but I indulge myself in some quality naked snuggling between my two big bodyguards.
Drake returns later, drenched in sweat and flushed from a workout. He pauses and gives the three of us an affectionate look as he pulls off his T-shirt and strips naked.
“This right here is a dream come true, I hope you guys realize that.” He waves a finger at the three of us. “I’d join you again, but we have work to do today. Also, I don’t want to alarm you, but I got another email this morning. This one wasn’t just a threat of blackmail. Seems like whoever is after me has upped the ante.”
Baz bolts upright. “Please tell me you’re not saying you got a death threat.”
Drake’s silent, tight-lipped look is all we need in response. My stomach clenches.
Baz leaps out of bed and hunts for his pants. “That’s it. We have to cancel the gala.”
“Not an option,” Drake says. “I want to know who this bastard is, and we all know the best way to flush him out is to show up like nothing’s wrong. Security will be tight. I trust you guys to keep anything bad from happening.”
Ben joins Baz in dressing, but stops and stares at Drake, shaking his head. “The best way to protect the principal is not to allow them into dangerous situations to begin with. And if whoever it is means what they say, then they’ll exploit the first opportunity to do it.”
Drake sets his jaw, hands on his hips.
I sit in the middle of the big bed, sheet clutched tight to my chest. “Please, Drake, we can find another way. With more time, we could learn the person’s identity and track them down.”
“And give them a chance to learn we’re onto them? We still have the element of surprise. I don’t want to lose that. You guys know I’m right.” He meets each of the twins’ gazes, and they let out identical curses.
“Fine. But we’ve barely made a dent in that guest list, and we have a lot to go if we’re going to find a lead before the gala tomorrow. I’ll meet you guys at breakfast.”
He disappears and I slip out of bed too, following Drake toward the bathroom. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”
“You can stay here if you’re scared,” he says, “but I want this over.”
I sigh and slip close, wrapping my arms around his neck and holding him tight. “Want company at least? We can wash your back.”
He lifts an eyebrow at me, then glances at Ben past my shoulder before turning to size up his shower. “There’s room, but I’m a little too distracted to enjoy it today. Raincheck?”
Ben chuckles. “It’s okay. You two have fun. I need to get a workout in before breakfast anyway. I want to fly back to the venue to triple-check security for tomorrow. If we’re not calling it off, it needs to be tight as a drum.”
When he slips out the door, I look at Drake, who’s standing naked in the bathroom doorway. He nods and enters, turning on the shower, then climbing in. He stands with his back under the spray, holding the door open for me with one arm.
“Guess they’re fine with us being alone,” I say, padding over to step into the spacious stall.
There are three showerheads—one on either side and a rainfall showerhead above—and more than enough room for all four of us, which could be fun another day. But like Drake, I’m a little too distracted to really enjoy that level of fun with all of them right now.
I peer into his eyes, searching for any residual torment from his nightmares, or from the death threat this morning. He’s slightly more subdued than usual, but gives me an amused smirk.
“I’m not fucking you without them here,” he informs me. “No matter how much you beg.”
My eyes widen, and I let out a small huff of outrage. He snickers and proceeds to cup both my breasts with big, soapy hands and massage them slowly. He tweaks my nipples, and I can’t help but moan when my pussy clenches. Maybe a small distraction is warranted.
“Fine, but I won’t be the one begging.” I grab the bottle of body wash, squeeze a dollop into my palm, and lather up. I reach between his legs and cup his cock and balls. He’s soft, but hardens within seconds of me beginning to stroke him.
He braces his hands on the tile wall behind me, groaning as he nuzzles my ear, hips rocking into my touch. “Still not going to fuck you.”
“That’s okay. I just want to make sure you know I have license. That I’m perfectly capable of saying yes or no. Not just to this, but to anything you guys ask. I don’t want to fuck right now, but I do want to make you come, if that’s okay. You’re allowed to say no too.”
I pause, still lightly gripping the base of his shaft. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Fuck no,” he says, dropping his forehead to my shoulder. He nuzzles my neck, his kisses teasing, hungry, as he works his way to my mouth. I increase the tempo of my soapy strokes, pumping his stiff cock faster.
If anything, I feel more empowered that he’s letting me do this without reciprocating. It’s a strange dichotomy—to want to submit to them completely, let them have my body in any way they wish, but also to crave seeing each man fall apart under my hands just the way Drake is now.
His mouth finds mine and his tongue plunges in, a grunt escaping as his balls tighten and his shaft flexes against my palm. Semen erupts from his tip, only to wash away when I shift to let the water flow between us.
He heaves a sigh, then kisses me again, this time with less desperate hunger and more slow, deliberate focus.
“Want me to take care of you?” he murmurs.
“I’m okay. I meant it when I said I needed a break. I’m kind of sore.”
“You own me now, I hope you know. I think the twins feel the same. We’re all in love with you, Elle.”
My heart thuds hard and I wrap my wet arms around him. “I’m in love with all of you too, as crazy as that sounds.”
“It isn’t crazy to me.” He pulls back and cups my cheek, looking into my eyes. “I think this has been brewing for a long time, and we finally had the freedom to let it out. It feels good to be so honest for once. To
drop my walls and let someone in. I think last night was just proof that I’m finally healing, thanks to you and Ben. Maybe Baz a little too.”
“They’re good guys once you get to know them.”
“Seeing how they treat you is enough evidence of their character. There’s no question in my mind that they’re good guys. And I have you to thank for their presence here too. If you guys hadn’t been around…”
He trails off, his expression turning grim. Alarm bells go off inside my head. “Do you think whoever’s doing this would actually hurt you?”
“I have no idea,” he says, shaking his head and rotating so his back is to me and his chest facing the spray closest to him. “But hopefully today you guys will find a clue, and we’ll be a step closer to figuring out the truth.”
He steps out to let me finish washing and doesn’t say anything else for several minutes. I try not to dwell on the fact that he clearly just shut me out, but it isn’t hard. The comfortable domesticity of sharing our morning routine is too sweet to deny, especially when he hands me a fresh toothbrush so I can brush my teeth over the sink beside his.
When he’s finished, he fishes into his toiletry bag, pulls out a small black satin pouch, and sets it on the counter between us.
“This is for you,” he says.
I spit and rinse while eyeing the pouch. When I dry my hands, I pick it up. Whatever it is, it’s solid and heavy. Untying the drawstring, I peek inside and pull out a heavy steel object shaped like a teardrop atop a thick steel post, with a wide disc attached to the end.
My eyes widen when it hits me what this is. I give Drake a suspicious look. “You just happened to have a butt plug lying around on your yacht?”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “It’s for personal use, brought from my apartment. So yes, it’s been inside me, but it’s been thoroughly cleaned and sanitized. Here’s a bottle of lube. Play with it, get comfortable, learn to relax. I suggest you wear it all day today. Then you can surprise the twins when you decide you’re ready to let them both fuck you.”