by Logan Fox
“Now, my blasphemous little slut,” he says with a rueful grin.
I give him a half-smile, and let him haul me out of the water. His eyes rake over my body, taking in every curve. In the past, I’d have wanted to snatch up a towel and cover myself.
But the Brotherhood have taught me a lot of things. Being proud of my body is one of them.
How can I hate something they worship?
Cass leads me back inside the house, but not before we both glance back at the view. The crests of the waves are barely visible—fluffy white lines that chase each other across the pale shore. At night, the ocean sighs like a sleeping beast, and I’ve fallen in love with it as much as I have with them.
All of them.
The ground floor of the mansion is built for entertaining, but we’ve never had any guests. What we have is too special. Too unique. People would ask too many questions. Or they wouldn’t understand, and try to become part of something they’re not.
Cass veers off into the kitchen, and I pause at the foot of the broad, open stairs that sweep up to the first floor. “What are you doing?”
He comes back a second later with strawberries and a bottle of champagne. “Hungry,” he lies.
“Bribing me won’t work,” I tell him, grabbing a strawberry off the tray and popping it in my mouth as we start up. “But I do commend your efforts.”
He chuckles at that, but not as enthusiastically as he usually would.
My steps become slower the higher we go up. And then almost stop when I can see over the landing.
They’re all there. Congregating. Waiting for me.
The second floor is reserved for the bedrooms, and the mini-theater with its massive TV and an assortment of day beds and recliners. My men spend a lot of time up here, watching movies, sports, reality shows. Soaking up the world they missed the last decade and a half.
Sometimes I join them. But most of the time I’m curled up on the window seat nearby, working through the pile of books beside it.
I missed out on a lot too. Tolkien. Dickens. Rowling. Harlequin. My men don’t tell me what I can and can’t read. Don’t tell me how I can and can’t dress.
For the first time in my life, I’m free.
Truly free.
Rube turns to face me, arms crossed over his chest. He’s wearing a dark, short-sleeved shirt that looks painted on to his beautiful sculpted torso, and a pair of baggy sweatpants.
Those dark clothes, paired with his black eyebrows and black hair, make his green eyes pop.
I’ll never forget the morning I woke up beside him, turned around, and saw his real eyes open for the first time.
I guess just like it’s taken me forever to get used to Cass’s longer hair. It’s not as long as Apollo’s but when he’s in the mood Cass ties it up in a man bun that makes me start panting.
“Enjoy your swim?” Rube asks, but there’s an edge to his voice like he’s already planned how much I’m going to regret stalling.
Apollo sits forward on one of the day beds, an unlit cigarette dangling between his fingers. I don’t let them smoke inside the house, and I guess he hasn’t gotten around to heading outside to have it yet.
He’s wearing three-quarter shorts and a too-big vest that shows most of his ribs and chest through the armholes. Cass’s favorite pastime—besides watching celebrity cooking shows—is to make fun of his style. He doesn’t seem to realize Apollo doesn’t have a style—Apollo wears the clothes that are in his cupboard, usually whatever’s on top of the pile he sees first.
As if thinking his name summons him, Cass steps up behind me, proffering the tray of strawberries as he presses a kiss to my ear.
“Ma’am.”
I wave him away dismissively, but only after I’ve snagged another strawberry off the tray.
“Fine,” I say through a sigh. “Where is he?” I ask, sticking out my hip and trying for all the world to sound like a cocky bitch.
Rube’s head tilts and then he steps to the side, revealing the only non-reclining armchair in this space.
Zachary is perched on the edge of the seat. He’s wearing a Gucci T-shirt that probably cost more than the couch, and a pair of tattered jeans.
He looks the same as he always has.
Weeks after we left Virginia and came to live in Dana Point in this mansion Zachary bought us, the others started transforming. Like butterflies fresh out of their cocoons.
Cass grew out his hair.
Reuben stopped wearing his colored contacts.
Apollo…okay, he hasn’t transformed much. But he does spend a lot less time by himself than he used to. He and Cass go surfing together in the morning where in the past, according to Rube, he’d have gone alone.
But Zach?
Put him in a cable-knit sweater and a pair of loafers, and he’s Brother Rutherford.
Which is one of the reasons why it’s been six months, and Zachary and I still haven’t spoken more than two words to each other.
Because he hasn’t changed.
Not on the outside.
Not on the inside.
“I did enjoy my swim, thank you for asking,” I tell Rube, now blatantly ignoring Zachary. “In fact, I think I’ll go have a lie-down. All that splashing around tired me out.”
I turn my back, slip past Cass, and head for the master bedroom.
“Trinity.” Zach’s voice stops me in my tracks. And fuck, I hate that he still has that kind of power over me. “Please.”
The taste of strawberries goes sour in my mouth. “No.” My back is still turned. “I’m not…” I want to say ready, but that’s not the right word.
I hear fabric rustle. Zachary getting to his feet. I hear his bare feet on the floor as he comes closer. The moment his hands touch my shoulders, I spin around and shove him away.
There’s a sudden tension in the room, like every one of his brothers is holding his breath.
“I said no.” The words are barely a whisper.
Zach watches me, and then nods. He takes a step back, drops his eyes. “Okay.”
I blink hard, and look away making sure I don’t catch anyone else’s eye.
No, he hasn’t changed. He might act it, and his brothers might insist he has, but I know he’s the same angry, spiteful person he was six months ago.
Sure, he’s been going to therapy. But from what Cass tells me—which isn’t a lot—he’s only just started on a very long journey.
And in the meantime? He’s pumping himself full of drugs so he’ll be the kind of man we all want him to be.
Calm.
Peaceful.
But what happens when he stops taking his drugs? Will he be holding a knife up my skirt and telling me to fuck off again?
Yes, I’m grateful he saved my life. But he’s the whole reason I was in that house to begin with. It’s because of him that I told Gabriel everything I knew. He’s the one that made me question everything I thought I knew. And when I had no answers, I turned to the only man I thought could provide them.
Gabriel.
His brothers think he’s earned my forgiveness.
He hasn’t.
Not even close.
But every time I try to explain it to them, I get tangled up in words and emotions. So I told them I wasn’t ready. That I had things to work through before I’d let Zachary be a larger part of our lives than he is now. Because I can’t deny them anything, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let him anywhere near my heart.
The sound of my damp feet is barely audible over my pounding heart as I head to the top floor. The entire level is reserved for the main suite. Bedroom. En suite bathroom. Massive walk-in closet. A small lounge. A wrap-around balcony with a hot tub.
I lied about going to sleep. I’m too wired for that to even be an option. But at least I can rinse my hair and get into some comfy clothes. My skin’s pebbling after being in that warm pool.
When I step inside the black, gold-veined marble shower, it turns on automatically.
Apollo rigged th
e whole house with stuff like that. At night, my way is lighted with barely-visible downlights all the way down to the kitchen for a glass of water. When I step into the pool, the lights turn on.
I lose myself under the shower’s rain setting, trying not to think about the looming argument.
It always comes when I say no.
Then my men spend days trying to change my mind. We fight. We make up. And the whole thing’s forgotten for a week or two.
Then the cycle begins again.
I’m considering telling them Zachary has to leave.
But he provides for us. Everything we have, it’s because of him. And they’ve moved on already. They truly forgave him in that hospital room.
It’s just me.
Fingers skate down my spine. I spin around, gasping, for some reason expecting it to be Zachary.
But it’s Reuben. Naked. Wet.
My eyes trail over his pecs. His washboard stomach. The thick cock in its bed of dark curls.
“What—”
He grabs my shoulders and presses me against the cool marble wall. Then he swipes hair out of my face, cupping my head in his massive hands.
I think he’s going to say something, but instead he ducks his head and kisses me.
My arms are around his neck a second later. I press my body against his, savoring the feel of his naked skin against mine. He forces his tongue into my mouth, fighting me back when I resist him.
I know what he’s doing. He’s softening me up. Hoping I’ll change my mind about Zach.
And since I like this game, I’ll allow him to play it.
He slides his hand down my stomach and caresses my clit with the tips of his fingers. On cue, I spread my legs, inviting him lower.
But tonight he teases me. The only thing he deepens is his kiss, his fingertips feather soft as they stroke me.
Hot tingles spread through my core. I’m already becoming wet from his touch, and as if he’s reading my mind, he takes away his hand and instead grabs the back of my neck.
I could kiss him for an eternity, but now that he’s stoked a fire inside me, it’s not enough. I need him inside me, filling me, ending the ache he forced on me.
But when I push him away, breaking our kiss, and I stare up into his mesmerizing green eyes, I already know what’s going to happen before I open my mouth.
“Fuck me,” I command him.
His eyes narrow. “Haven’t you learned any manners yet?”
My men are big on manners lately. I can be as demanding as I want in bed, but I have to be polite about it.
But I was set up—again—and that makes me feel rebellious.
I’m ready with another demand, but Rube darts forward and catches my lips with a kiss.
This time he doesn’t hold back.
It’s fierce and it’s controlling and it makes my legs weak.
And he uses that against me. When I sink down, expecting him to grab my ass and haul me up against the wall, he instead breaks our kiss and pushes me to my knees.
“What are you—” is all I get out before he presses his thumb and forefinger into my cheeks, opening my jaw.
And then his cock is sliding into my mouth, already hard, already salty with precum.
He grabs a fistful of my hair and moves my lips up and down his dick.
I would have resisted more, but God I love the sound he makes when I’m sucking him off. I look up at him, and a tremor races through me at the intensity in his eyes. How his jaw bunches like he’s barely able to hold himself back.
But thank the Lord he does, because otherwise I would suffocate. As it is, I can barely fit more than half his cock in my mouth.
“We’ve given you more than enough time,” he says, his voice as tight as the seal of my lips around his dick. “So why won’t you listen to him? Why won’t you even hear him out?”
I hate the fact that they’re taking his side. I guess I haven’t known them as long as they’ve known each other, but you’d think they’d demand he pay for what he did to me.
Slamming my hands into his thighs, I push away from him. Rube relinquishes the grip on my hair just enough so that I can choke out his cock.
“He’s never even said he’s sorry,” I blurt out. “But you want me to forgive him?”
Rube’s eyes narrow. “He’s tried, Trinity. More than once.”
I start to argue, but then Rube shoves his cock back in my mouth.
“Every time he wants to talk, you walk away. Or tell him to go fuck himself. Or decide you need a nap.”
Oh my God. He makes me sound like a spoiled brat. But with each reprimand, his cock is being shoved into my mouth, so I have no choice but to shut up and listen.
“So when I’m done with you,” Rube says, his voice dropping an octave lower, “You’ll go out there, and you’ll listen.”
He tightens his fist in my hair.
It’s taken him a long time to even dare to do anything that might bring me the slightest pain. He’s refused to sleep with me ever since we arrived at this mansion. He keeps saying he doesn’t want to hurt me again. It doesn’t matter what I tell him. What his brothers tell him.
And I’m starting to think it has something to do with Zach. I know Rube’s not childish enough to bribe me, but…It’s as if he needs me to forgive his brother before he can even think of making love to me.
I’m not happy with the fact that I could be the one sabotaging my happiness.
Another twist. Sharp pain brings tears to my eyes that the shower’s rain setting patters away.
“Do you hear me?” he asks. His voice is gruff, tight. He’s getting close.
I nod, and even bat my eyelashes at him. Then I swirl my tongue as best I can around the tip of his cock, my core clenching at the salty taste of him.
He lets out a deep groan, and then thrusts hard into my mouth as if he wishes he was fucking me instead.
Don’t we both?
When he comes a second later, I swallow what I can, but some of his load trickles out the side of my mouth while I’m choking it down.
He pulls out, his cock bobbing an inch away from my lips as he uses his thumb to scoop up the cum dribbling down my chin.
“Don’t waste,” he murmurs. I dart forward, drawing his thumb into my mouth and sucking it clean.
“Good girl.” He strokes my wet hair, and for a second I think he’s going to put his cock back in my mouth for another round.
I guess I deserve it.
As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. Ever since he came back from the hospital, I’ve been avoiding Zach. I refuse to listen to him, dodging every request he’s made.
Honestly, I’m surprised it’s taken this long for my men to call me to task for it.
Rube crouches, grabs my hips, and helps me to my feet. Then he smooths back the hair straggling over my face and kisses my forehead.
“When?” I murmur, closing my eyes. I’m pretty sure I can reschedule any date I set. More importantly, I’m hoping that if I do set a date, he’ll finally do the one thing I’ve been begging him to for months now.
Make love to me.
He trails his fingers down my body, slides his hand between my legs, and tests me with a crook of his middle finger.
His breath is warm and sweet on my face when I look up at him, waiting for his reply.
But he’s wearing a grim expression I don’t like one bit.
“Now.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Zach
As soon as I realize my leg’s bouncing, I lean forward and rest my elbows on my thighs, lacing my fingers together. I’ve got nothing to fidget with, so I toy with my fingers, meshing them together then moving them apart, as I wait in the small den adjacent to the main bedroom.
Our bedrooms are on the second level, but Trinity sleeps on the top floor, and everyone usually joins her up there.
Except me.
I was banished the moment I set foot in my own house.
My leg starts jitter
ing again until I push away that negative thought.
A cigarette would have helped. A joint would have been even better.
Trinity doesn’t like us smoking cigarettes inside the mansion. Despite the fact we outnumber her four-to-one, my brothers treat her word like law.
I don’t understand it. Not one fucking iota.
There’s no sane reason for us to bend the knee to a girl. Especially one as little as her.
But she’s got everyone wrapped around her little finger.
Including me.
Not that I’m complaining. Trinity fascinates me. Despite everything she went through she only holds one grudge.
I’ve heard her admit to my brothers that she’s forgiven Gabriel. Her parents.
But not me.
What gives?
Tonight is her last chance. If she won’t hear me out, if she won’t pass that same forgiveness onto me…then there’s nothing left for me to do but leave. It would kill me to go, to abandon my brothers again, but I’ll have no choice.
Maybe I’ll still get the kids on weekends, who knows?
I drop my head, letting out a rueful huff as I watch my fingers work against each other.
Then come the footsteps.
When I look up and see her standing a few feet away dressed in a silk robe that does nothing to hide her exquisite curves, my heart pulses in my chest. I put a hand over it, wincing before I can stop myself. Ever since the surgery, it’s been doing some strange things inside my chest.
My doctor says I’m imagining it.
I think he bought his degree.
Trinity’s eyes dart to my hand, then back to my eyes. Her face is steel, her body rigid.
Rube comes up behind her, a towel wrapped around his waist. I’d have assumed they fucked in the shower, but from what the guys tell me, that belt cinching her waist might as well be a chastity belt. There’s been nothing serious between the four of them since that day in the library back at Saint Amos.
Guess we all still have some issues to work through.
“Well?” she says, quirking her eyebrow at me. “I’m listening.”
My hackles rise at her tone, but then Rube sticks out a hand, palm down. I force myself to take a breath, and then I stand, urging myself to stay calm.