by Callie Rose
They’re gone.
He’s gone.
It’s over. For tonight anyway.
It’s close to eleven p.m. by now. These rich people really know how to suck every last dreg out of “dinner”. I’m wired and exhausted at the same time, desperate to escape into sleep for a little while, but at the same time, afraid to close my eyes for fear of what I’ll see in my dreams.
So I take a hot shower, letting the steam swirl around me as the pounding rush of water soothes my tight muscles. Then I wrap a fluffy towel around myself and pad back into the bedroom.
I’m rooting through the dresser for clothes to sleep in when a knock comes at the door. My gaze snaps up, fear instantly filling me—even though there’s no logic to it. Hollowell’s gone. I know he is.
“Who is it?” I call out softly.
“Chase.”
The sound of his voice, full of an energy he can never quite disguise, even in his most somber moments, is like a balm. I hurry to the door and fling it open, taking in the sight of his bright sea-blue eyes and chiseled features before glancing down the hallway.
“Are you looking for Dax?” His brows pull together as he tilts his head.
“Oh. Uh…”
I was, actually. The past several times they’ve come to my room, to collect me before school or whatever, they’ve arrived as a pair. I know them so well by now that I’d never mistake one twin for the other, but I have gotten used to the two of them together. A pair.
Scrunching my nose up, I squint at him. “No?”
He chuckles, his smile easy and amused. “Yeah, you were. It’s okay. Everybody does it, even our parents. Even River and Linc. We ask for it, with how much time we spend together. But we’re identical twins, not conjoined ones.”
A laugh bursts out of me, the first genuine moment of levity I’ve had in days. “Right.”
I step back a little and open the door wider, gesturing him inside. The pajamas I was going to change into are still sitting on top of the dresser. I got distracted before I could put them on, and I forgot until this exact moment that all I’m wearing is a towel.
But when Chase’s gaze flickers down and then back up, and I see him draw in a deep breath, I’m suddenly hyper-aware of how little I’m wearing.
My heart thuds a little harder in my chest as I close the door, looking over my shoulder at Chase, who stopped several feet away in the middle of the room.
“What’s up?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer for a moment.
He just gazes at me with an intent expression on his face, like he’s trying to see all of me, to take in every bit of me at once. My skin heats under the close scrutiny, and I lean against the door, my hands unconsciously going to the top edge of the towel that’s wrapped around me.
Still not speaking, he crosses back to me and rests his hands on the heavy wood on either side of my head, bracing himself against it and caging me between his arms.
We’re so close that I can see the little flecks of green in his blue eyes and feel the warmth coming off his golden skin. His pupils dilate and contract as his gaze tracks over my face, as if his eyes are cameras, and he’s preserving this image in his mind.
As if he’ll remember me, in this moment, forever.
“Chase,” I whisper, just to break the silence, to break the spell his blue eyes are casting on me.
Maybe my voice breaks the spell on him too, because he blinks, shaking his head a little like he’s coming out of a daze.
“I don’t think you know what you do to us, Low,” he murmurs.
Another laugh bubbles up my chest. “What I do to you?”
Jesus. If he could feel my heart slamming against my ribs, the energy zapping through me, making every one of my nerve endings come alive, he’d understand what they do to me. All of these boys.
He grins, like maybe he does have some idea after all, and his hands leave the wall to trail down my arms as he takes a small step closer.
“I don’t mean like that. Well…” He clears his throat and glances down at where a visible erection is growing in his sweats. “I guess I do mean like that. But not just that.”
His fingertips are made of fire, burning little trails up and down my skin. I struggle to keep my eyelids from drooping as arousal spreads through me like a drug.
“I’ve been close with Dax since the day I was born, and we’ve been friends with River and Linc for years,” he murmurs. “But when you came to Fox Hill, you changed everything. You gave us… purpose.”
“What purpose?”
I reach for him as I ask, unable to stop myself, pulling him closer so I can run my hands over his back and lean waist, feeling the muscles through his soft t-shirt.
Chase’s hands glide up my arms, up my neck, until he’s cradling my head, his fingers threading through my hair at the scalp as he tilts my face up a little.
“You. Protecting you. Making you happy.” He lets out a soft laugh. “Maybe one day, if we all come out of this alive, taking you on a proper fucking date.”
His words send a ripple of hope and fear through me, and I tighten my grip on him, shaking my head as the fear wins out. “Chase. You guys don’t have to—”
“Yeah, we do, Low. We’re with you. Always.” He smiles softly. “Didn’t you just hear what I said? That’s our purpose.”
I want to tell him that what they’re offering is too much, that we’re all too young to trust our feelings, to know they’re real and lasting. That relationships formed under intense circumstances never work out in the long run.
But all of that is bullshit.
Because this?
This is real.
These boys are offering to walk through fire for me, and that’s about as goddamn real as anything in this world gets.
So I don’t tell him he’s wrong.
I show him he’s right.
My arms wrap tighter around him, pulling him toward me as I tilt my face up even more, rising onto my tiptoes to meet his lips. They’re warm and soft, and it feels like such a relief to have them pressed against mine that I sigh into his mouth.
His hands are in my hair, holding my head as he kisses me—soft and slow at first, then deeper, more demanding.
I give him everything he wants, opening my mouth as his tongue sweeps between my lips, running over my teeth and brushing against my tongue like he’s still trying to catalogue every inch of me.
His hands go to the towel I’m wearing, and a second later, the soft fabric spills to the floor, letting a rush of air greet my suddenly naked body.
Chase steps back then, his eyes hungry and playful as he takes the opportunity to look at me like this, his bright eyes still snapping mental photographs.
I bite my lip, my toes curling into the floor and my clit throbbing as I feel his gaze everywhere. He’s dressed for sleep in loose-fitting sweats and a soft, worn tee that hugs the planes of his chest and shoulders, and he looks so fucking good like this. Casual and messy.
Still, I can’t help but wish he was wearing a lot fewer clothes.
I glance down at myself and then back up at him, raising my eyebrows. “Well, this just seems unfair.”
He grins, stepping forward and skimming his hands along the curve of my waist, over the swell of my hips. “I dunno. I kinda like it.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course you do.”
A broad smile spreads across his face. Then he’s kissing me again, sliding his hands over my ass and gripping my thighs as he lifts me into his arms. I wrap my legs around him, winding my arms around his neck and devouring his lips with mine until he sets me down on the bed.
He pulls back, and I grudgingly release him, already missing the feeling of his hard, muscled body pressed against mine.
I rise up onto my elbows and watch as he lifts his shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor in a smooth motion. He grabs the waistband of his pants and grins as my gaze immediately darts downward. Then he stretches the elastic to draw it over his jutting
cock and pushes his sweats and boxer briefs down together.
Fuck, he’s gorgeous.
I’ve seen him naked once before, the night we all played poker, but there’s something different about this. Tonight, it’s just the two of us, and we’re not hiding behind a game of strip poker, using the cards as our excuse. Tonight, I get to look my fill just because I want to.
And I do want to. I want to look and touch. To feel his smooth, golden skin and run my fingertips over the line at his waist where the skin turns a little paler. I want to bury my fingers in his hair, to press my body against his, to watch his expression change as he comes.
“That’s better.” I bite my lip, grinning like an idiot. “Now we’re even.”
“Yeah. We are.”
He starts moving before he finishes talking, crawling up onto the bed with me and draping his large body over mine as I open my legs for him. His weight pins me to the mattress as he attacks me with lips, teeth, and tongue, drawing his mouth up and down the line of my neck, over my breasts, along my collarbone. I grab onto his hair and close my eyes, letting the wash of feelings sweep me away.
When I feel the head of his cock at my entrance, I open them and find him gazing down at me. We stare at each other in dazed wonder as he slides inside inch by inch, my body stretching and opening for him.
Once he’s filling me up completely, he stops.
His body shudders, and he drops his head, breathing heavily.
I’m breathing harder too, pleasure spiking in my veins, and I roll my hips against him, needing more movement, more friction.
But his hand drops to my hip, his grip firm as his muscles tense up. “Just—give me a second,” he mutters, his voice strained. “I’ve been dreaming about this for a long time, and if I don’t take a couple breaths here, I’m gonna fucking embarrass myself.”
His body shudders again as he says the words, and I can feel him teetering on the edge.
I am too. Feeling him like this, so close to losing it, so close to coming just from the sensation of being inside me for the first time, is making my heart rate pick up.
“It’s okay. Take all the time you need,” I say breathlessly.
But the rest of me doesn’t seem to have gotten that memo, because even as I speak, my pussy walls clench around him, like my body is trying to draw him deeper inside me.
Chase grunts in response, his eyes flying wide as his lips press into a line. “Not. Helping. Harlow.”
I know it’s not. But he’s driving me just as crazy as I’m driving him. He feels so fucking good inside me, so perfect, that I need more. I’m starving for him, and trying to hold back the feelings swelling inside me is like trying to hold back a hurricane with a single umbrella.
My walls clench around him again, and Chase grabs both my wrists, pinning them down to the mattress beside me. I lift my head, pushing against gravity and his grip on me to bring my lips closer to his—and maybe it’s the sight of me straining to get to him that does it, but Chase finally stops trying to hold back, to regain control.
His lips crash into mine with bruising force, and then he’s surging into me with hard, deep thrusts. The bed rocks with the motion, and it feels like he might drive me right through the mattress. I clutch at his shoulders, digging my fingernails into his skin hard enough to leave scratches as my ankles lock behind his lower back.
“Fuck, Chase. Fuck. Jesus. Oh, fuck.”
An incoherent stream of words flies from my mouth as I mutter against his lips, driven past the power of rational speech by the sensations tearing through me.
He was right.
He doesn’t last long.
Neither of us do.
He lets out a choked groan, throwing his head back, the corded muscles of his neck straining as he slams into me one more time, grinding his hips hard against mine.
The pressure against my clit and the feel of his cock jerking and swelling inside me makes stars burst behind my eyes, and I come hard, clenching around him over and over, biting my lip to keep from screaming.
Chase collapses onto the bed, wrapping his arms around me and rolling us so I’m on top and he’s beneath me, his cock still buried inside me. I rest my head on his shoulder as we both suck in gasping breaths, hearts hammering hard and fast.
It’s quiet for several moments, nothing but the gradually slowing sound of our breathing filling the room.
Then Chase reaches up to brush my hair away from my face, lifting his head off the mattress a few inches to look at me.
“Sorry about that.”
I lift an eyebrow. “For making me come like a freight train? Yeah, you should be sorry.”
He chuckles and drops his head again, still playing with my hair. I lie like that for a little while longer, too pleasantly worn out to move, but I finally slide off his cock, which has hardly softened at all. I press a kiss to his chest, then pad into the bathroom to clean up.
When I return a minute later, Chase hasn’t moved at all. He has one hand behind his head, and he watches me with eyes like a Caribbean sea as I crawl back up onto the bed and settle beside him. He pulls me into his side and wraps both arms around me, and I can feel his heart beating against my cheek.
“Well.” He laughs softly. “That was only slightly embarrassing. But I’ll remember it for the rest of my damn life.”
“Me too.” Our lips find each other’s in a lazy kiss before I add, “And I don’t think it was embarrassing at all. I mean, it’s not like we only get to do it once.”
He makes a pleased noise in the back of his throat that sends a small shiver up my spine, his grip on me tightening a little.
A thought occurs to me, and I lift my head, scooting up a bit and resting my chin on his chest so I’m practically draped over him.
“Hey. You don’t feel like I think of you and Dax as one person, do you?”
His eyebrows lift at the question, but he considers his answer seriously before speaking.
“No. I know you don’t. We’ve met plenty of girls who wanted to hook up with us because they had some sort of twin fetish or whatever, and that shit does get old. But you’ve never treated us that way.”
“Good.” I trace a line over his chest with my finger. “Because I like you each as your own person. But I also like you… together, if that makes sense. And not in the dirty way,” I add with an eye roll, although if I’m being honest, I do like that too.
He chuckles, and we’re pressed so close together that I feel the movement of it in my own body.
“Yeah, it does make sense. I mean, you asked if you treat us like one person, but truthfully, sometimes it feels like we’re one person. Like we’re two halves of a whole. We know each other so well and are so much a part of each other’s lives…” He trails off and shrugs. “Without Dax, I wouldn’t be me.”
“I think it’s amazing you have that. I think you make each other better,” I say softly.
“Yeah.” He grins down at me, his smile bright as the sun. “Although sometimes”—he hauls me up so I’m fully draped over him, my legs straddling his hips, his cock sandwiched between us—“I want moments that are just mine.”
“Like this moment?”
Bracing one hand on his chest, I rise up onto my knees, adjusting my position as I use my other hand to guide his already hard cock to my entrance, lining him up and sinking down slowly.
“Yeah. Like this one.”
His words are a raspy groan, and when I begin to rock up and down, rolling my hips as I ride him, he reaches up to cup my breasts, letting me control the pace of our movements.
Our first fuck was hot and hard and fast, but this one is slow and deep as we torture and tease each other, pushing right to the edge but never quite past it.
And when we can’t hold back any longer, Chase sits up and wraps his arms around me, impaling me hard on his pulsing cock. I shudder around him as I come, and he follows me over the edge with a harsh sigh.
We drift off to sleep in each other’s arms
, and as I fall into unconsciousness, breathing in the subtle scent of musk and bergamot, it occurs to me that tonight was one of the best and worst nights of my life.
That seems to be happening a lot lately.
So much good.
With so much bad.
16
The kings and I have settled on a plan, a strategy for facing Judge Hollowell. But before we put it into action, there’s one thing I have to do first.
On Saturday morning, I go to the Fox Hill Correctional Center to see my mom.
“Hey, sweetheart. I’ve missed you.”
Her wan smile breaks my heart as she presses her fingertips to the partition between us. She seems tired and… resigned. Like she’s getting used to the orange jumpsuit and the prison food and only seeing me through a goddamn plexiglass barrier.
I hate it.
And it tells me everything I need to know about how things are going before I even ask.
“How’s it been, Mom? Is your lawyer doing okay?”
“Scott is—” Mom breaks off, like even in prison, she won’t allow herself to say the things she wants to about this man. Then she sighs, rubbing a hand over her cheek. “He’s doing fine. He was doing what I asked, focusing on my character in his preparations, lining up witnesses. But now he’s saying it’s a bad idea. If we make it about the kind of person I am, it will allow the prosecution to go after the… other side of my character.”
“What?” My stomach drops out, and my chair scrapes loudly on the floor as I scoot closer to the partition. “What other side of your character?”
My mom is one of the best, kindest people in the whole world, and that’s who she is. There’s no hidden monster inside her, no evil flip side to the coin.
She shakes her head, looking a little haunted, and I realize how fucking hard this all must be on her. To have her name dragged through the mud, her character as a human being denigrated, just to prove she committed a crime she didn’t do. It’s awful.
“Scott says the prosecutors could claim I had motive to kill Iris because she bullied you.”
“What?” My voice is a loud screech, and the guard near the door looks up. I turn away from him, lowering my voice. “What? That’s insane.”