by Pam Godwin
“No. The programming turned off that part of their brains. Their bites are neither intimate nor climax-inducing.”
Since Michio wasn’t programmed, the sink of his fangs was as sexual as the thrust of his cock.
His eyes glimmered. “Still think I can’t keep up?”
Oh, he was definitely proud of himself. It made my heart flutter.
It fluttered faster as the door to our room appeared down the hall.
I kissed his neck, inhaling his masculine scent. “Is it going to be weird sharing a bed with them?”
“We’ve done it before.”
When he was the only man I was intimate with. How would he react if he woke to Jesse or Roark fucking me beside him?
I kissed him again. “It’s different now.”
“I know.” His voice was gravely, and I couldn’t decide if that was good or bad.
“Roark snores and invades personal spaces.”
“I know,” he repeated.
“And Jesse’s grouchy when he first wakes up.”
“I know.”
“We’re going to be okay. The four of us.”
I waited for another I know, but it didn’t come. Instead, he held me tighter, his chest hitching with a deep inhale, as he stepped into our room.
The door to our room was open, exactly how I’d left it, but the lights were off, the space dark and calm like the man who carried me in.
Michio shut the door and dropped our clothes, leaving the towels wrapped around us. As he strode toward the bed, my eyes slowly adjusted to the shadows. Jesse and Roark lay on top of the blankets, sprawled on their backs with enough space between them for me, as if waiting for me to fill that gap.
Where would Michio sleep? Squeezed in that narrow space with me? Or on either side of the guys? The way he tightly held me against his chest suggested he wouldn’t be releasing me anytime soon.
Roark’s sleepy brogue slurred through the silence. “Was beginning to think ye kidnapped her again, Doc.”
I tensed. He sounded drunk. Even so, it was too soon to joke about what happened.
Michio reversed his steps, moving backward toward the door, and lifted his elbow along the wall. “I can see you were real concerned about it.”
Amusement sifted through his voice as he bumped the light switch and flooded the room in a soft glow.
“Right.” Roark squinted at the ceiling light. “I was going to come after ye, but this big hairy fella”—his arm fell over Jesse’s chest—“got me shitfaced and tried to root the hole off me. Lovely it was.”
Jesse made an exasperated noise and shoved Roark’s arm away as he sat up. He wore a black pair of briefs, while Roark lay stark nude, stretched out and taking up half of the pushed-together queen-sized beds, as if he’d fallen there and hadn’t moved.
The sound of his snores filled the room. He went from speaking to snoring? Jesus, how much had he drank?
As Michio carried me back to the bed, I raised a brow at Jesse.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Jesse stabbed a hand through his hair and glanced at Roark. “I couldn’t get him to put pants on let alone separate him from his whiskey.”
Roark’s loud breaths suddenly stilled. “I’m Oirish, ye fecking skanger.”
“Well, that explains everything.” Jesse’s tone couldn’t have been drier, but affection warmed his gaze as he regarded Roark’s closed-eyed, slacked face.
Roark responded with a soft snore, perhaps dreaming of shamrocks, blarney stones, and drinking Bushmills with leprechauns.
I tightened my arms around Michio’s shoulders, my chest lifting with a surreal sense of peace. Last year, I was certain they’d never get along. This morning, I was convinced I’d never see them again. Would they always prove me wrong?
Michio scooted us into the bed, settling me between him and Jesse, with his long body clinging to the edge.
He looked at Roark’s sprawled position on the other side of Jesse. “He’s taking up half the bed, and we should roll him to his side in case he pukes.”
The towel around Michio’s waist threatened to slip off as he leaned across me, gripped Roark’s shoulder, and shoved.
Jesse turned to help, his hands hesitating above Roark’s nude lower half, while Michio shifted and twisted Roark’s torso. With a heavy exhale, Jesse gripped Roark’s muscular thigh and pushed it across the bed.
I could’ve helped. I really should have. But I was having too much fun watching them push and arrange Roark’s dead weight into a fetal-like position. Roark continued to snore softly, and how I could find that sexy was anyone’s guess, but there it was, his drunken snore inspiring me to take advantage of him.
Jesse sat back, glaring at Roark’s ass, and shifted that glare to me. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
I shrugged, grinning. “You should spank him. You know, because he’s drunk, not because I’d enjoy watching or anything.”
He looked back at Roark, like he was considering it. Then he crawled into the space between us and collapsed on his chest.
Michio left the bed to turn off the light, but as he stood by the door in his towel, he stared across the space between us, his gaze losing clarity. Whatever he was thinking about, a part of him seemed to have suddenly left the room. It could’ve been anything from Aiman and Elaine to the spiders and my pregnancy.
When his eyes finally refocused, they weren’t on me. He was staring at Jesse. “We’re going to be okay.”
Same words I’d said to him on our way back to the room, though it felt as if he were excluding me in this context.
Jesse rolled to his side, facing me, and hauled my chest against his. “Okay, Doc.” He pressed a kiss to my head. “Okay,” he repeated, his voice soft and sad, yet resolved. “Come to bed.”
Were they talking about my impending death? It was hard to know for sure and too late at night to ask, the topic too heavy for my weary brain.
Michio hit the light switch and approached silently in the dark. He tugged off my towel, swapping it for one of the blankets on the bed, and slid in behind me. “Did you make him drink water?”
“Yeah,” Jesse said. “A couple bottles before he passed out the first time.”
I wrapped my arm around Jesse’s narrow hips, bringing him closer and pressing back against Michio’s chest to give them the warmth of my body. “Has he been drinking a lot over the past month?”
“No.” Jesse’s exhale brushed my face. “But after you left the room tonight, he decided to get gee-eyed and celebrate. His words.”
“Celebrate what? Christmas?”
“Finding you,” Michio said at my ear.
“And fatherhood,” Jesse added.
Fatherhood. I turned that over in my head, loving the sound of it. I smiled in the dark, my muscles lovingly worn-out and our bodies curving together. There, cradled in strength and warmth, I fell deeply and blissfully into sleep.
I woke the next morning, groggy, still smiling, and deliciously aroused, thanks to the finger working inside me. In and out, it slid and curled, joined by another finger, then a tongue, winding me up and heating my core. I arched my back, my muscles tightening and relaxing, as I looked down my body and found Michio’s dark eyes hungrily watching me from between my legs.
Turning my head, I was greeted by another pair of eyes, lighter in color, but no less inviting.
Jesse lay on his side, his head pillowed by his bent arm, and his sexy hair spiking in every direction. “Morning, darlin’.”
I shivered at the sound of his deep timbre and clenched against Michio’s seeking tongue. “Morning.”
Roark’s groan rumbled behind Jesse.
Michio lifted his head, kissing my inner thigh, as his gaze clinically examined Roark. “How do you feel?”
Roark sat up and brushed his tousled blond locks from his face as his eyes roamed my body. “After a shit, shower, and some of wha’ you’re having, Doc, I’ll feel totally boxed off.”
Oh, that man had no shame. I shared a smile
with Jesse.
Michio climbed up my body and hovered over me on hands and knees. We were both naked. Him, hard as steel. Me, soaked and trembling. He didn’t say good morning, didn’t ask me how I was feeling. We simply stared at each other, communicating everything in that single look.
Roark lumbered out of the room, unabashedly nude. “I won’t be long. Den’ go anywhere, love.”
Not a chance. Michio lowered his body and entered me, slowly, teasingly. He took me with gentle thrusts, kissing my lips, building, picking up his pace, and bringing me to orgasm, once, twice, before finding his own.
I left Michio spent and trembling and went to Jesse, riding him hard, licking his lips, and gripping his sexy hair. Michio watched with heavy-lidded eyes as Jesse groaned and kicked his hips beneath me, driving his cock with long, needful thrusts, his fingers twisting my nipples, and his heated eyes lingering on my mouth. When he came, I followed him over that welcome cliff, my grip sliding away from the edge, but I didn’t plunge, because he was there to catch me, and together we soared.
The moment I caught my breath, Michio dragged me back, arranging my legs to straddle him, and fucked me again. Maybe one climax would never be enough for him. Or maybe this was his way of cementing his position in our bed as he kissed me, tasted my mouth and my body, and sank in and out of my heat, feeding me his hunger, his pleasure, and his cock. It felt as though he was giving me everything, with no intention of stopping.
Beside us, Jesse lay sated and still, watching us with a thoughtful expression, his fingers stroking my arm, my breasts, and my lips.
Eventually, Roark returned and nuzzled his way in, enveloping my senses with the aroma of soap and toothpaste, his wet hair dripping down his sculpted face, and his shaved jaw stroking like silk across my shoulder. He wasn’t handsy with Michio like he was with Jesse, but he wasn’t patient or passive either. His chest pressed against my back and his arm hooked around my waist, lifting me up and down on Michio’s cock and hurrying the other man along.
Flexing beneath me, Michio gripped my thighs and raised a black brow at Roark. “Is this how it’s going to be?”
“It can be however ye want, Doc.” Roark relaxed against my back, his weight bearing down on me and pressing my chest against Michio’s. “But she’s gagging for both of us to give it to her up the rasher.”
Oh my God. I hit his rib with my elbow. “Your mouth…I swear.”
“Ye love me mouth.” He reached behind me and positioned his engorged length at my entrance, sliding his plump crown against Michio. “Tell me no, Doc.”
Jesse watched us, wordlessly, his lips a flat line, but there was a smile glimmering in his eyes.
“You talk too much.” Michio widened his legs beneath me, spreading my thighs, as he held me against his chest, waiting.
Roark braced a hand beside Michio’s torso and pushed, sliding through my slickness and filling my pussy alongside Michio. He thrust deeper, and a hiss streamed past Michio’s elongated fangs. My walls clamped down, and my tissues stretched, tender and overworked, but the overwhelming pleasure powered through the discomfort.
Their grunting and panting magnified my need, their desire taking me with them, spurring me to satisfy them, to please them and hold them for as long as I could. Even more arousing was the eye-contact I shared with Jesse as they fucked me.
When Roark and Michio climaxed, they gathered me in their arms, panting, trembling, content. A moment later, Jesse crawled over the knot of limbs and rested his cheek on my inner thigh, his finger swirling through my folds where each of them had stretched and filled and spilled.
We lay in a mound of beating hearts and warm flesh and acceptance, fingers stroking, bodies twitching. Tangled together, expressions open, and gazes tracing and locking, our bond was palpable. Not just in the physical sense. I felt our chemistry in the air, vibrating between us, pulling us toward one another without shifting a muscle. It was bigger than me, stronger than them. It was immeasurable and profound and dependable, connecting our union in ways that couldn’t be explained in words. But if I had to give it a name, I would simply call it Us.
Roark propped himself up on an elbow and leaned over Michio’s chest, staring down at the other man. “Ye worked things out in your head? Ye seem…lighter this morning.”
I agreed. Not just in the easy set of his shoulders, but in the way his face glowed. His eyes were brighter.
Michio curled a lock of my hair around his fingers, his gaze on Roark. “Yeah. You were right…what you told me last night, and I do feel better.”
They must’ve been referring to Roark’s advice about me somehow healing deep wounds? I wanted to argue against it, to set them straight, but thought better of it. They could think what they wanted, especially if those thoughts made them happy.
“Be careful, Doc.” Jesse slipped from the bed and dragged on a pair of sweat pants. “Next thing you know, Roark will have us painting each other’s fingernails and listening to boy bands.”
Roark rolled to his back, grinning at the ceiling. “Ye cunts can lick me balls.”
I leaned over and kissed the indention in his hip. “I don’t think they’re ready for that.”
“His balls are all yours, darlin’.” Jesse strode to the door. “I’m hitting the shower. What’s the plan today?”
Michio snagged his own pants from the floor. “Evie needs a full check-up with an ultrasound. I want to run some tests, but I need equipment and a sterile environment. I also need vitamins, medications, and people.” His voice deepened, heavy with grimness. “Nurses, doctors, specialists, preferably those who have experience in obstetric complications and at risk pregnancies that might require surgical interventions.”
Silence blanketed the room, and I glimpsed the sudden bleakness in their eyes. I sat up and lowered my hand to my stomach, sliding it around my middle. I wasn’t scared. Well, maybe a little. Not about my pregnancy, but I was scared for them. Adding to that was my fear that they would leave the dam to search for the things Michio needed and get bitten or hurt. Or killed.
Fuck, this was going to sound needy, but I said it anyway. “Don’t leave me.”
I’d make them take me with them if it came to that.
Roark curled his big body around my hips. “Den’ leave us.”
My heart pinched. I would try my damnedest not to.
“Link can send Hunter and some of the others to collect what Doc needs.” Jesse leaned against the door frame, studying me with his usual intensity.
“Do you trust this guy?” Michio looked between Jesse and Roark.
“He’s a mentaller.” Roark absently traced the line of my thigh. “But he’s obsessively committed to leading any and all brigades attached to Evie.”
“Alright.” Michio strode toward the door. “Then I’ll give him a list that’ll keep him busy for a while.” He paused, looking back at me. “Last night, he said there weren’t any aphids outside of the perimeter. He sent patrols out, twenty miles in every direction, and they found remnants of exploded bodies. And not a single living bug.”
Twenty miles? My pulse picked up. “I’ve never had that kind of reach. I wonder how far it extends? I haven’t felt an aphid since I killed the ones on the dam.” A horrifying thought slammed into my gut. “The nymphs…I don’t know how to isolate them from my aphid commands.” I gripped my stomach, clenching against the brutal ache there. “Oh God, what if I killed nymphs, too?”
“Evie, love, shh.” Roark pulled me into his lap and pressed kisses to my temple. “You didn’t kill them.”
He didn’t know this. He was just trying to make me feel better.
Michio appeared at my side, his hand in my hair, guiding my face to his. “You’re borrowing that power from our daughter. Do you agree?”
My chest hitched, and I nodded.
“And our daughter is meant to save mankind, not destroy it.” His voice was a deep growl, menacing in its conviction. “Which means she won’t kill the vessels meant to carry futur
e generations.”
I nodded again, my breaths calming. “Okay.”
“Okay.” He observed me closely, probably making sure I was truly okay, then he strode toward the door. “Jesse and I are taking a shower.” He glanced at me over his shoulder. “Are you coming?”
Three hours later, we had showered and eaten oatmeal and a surprisingly tender meat from some kind of wild bird. After that, Michio had put me through an overly-thorough exam, using the supplies he’d carried with him from Georgia. He’d drawn my blood, prodded my cervix—or whatever he was doing with his hand inside me—noted my weight and measurements, checked my teeth and blood pressure, gave me a breast exam, and annoyed the piss out of me. No part of my body had been left untouched by his clinical fingers. When I told him I was done with this nonsense, he gave me a withering look that turned my insides to ash.
Now, with the ultrasound machine set up, he positioned the transvaginal probe and made adjustments to the numbers on the screen.
I lay in our bed, bracketed by Jesse and Roark, watching them take in the blip on the monitor. My skin tingled with excitement and my heart raced, my entire being waiting in anticipation of their reactions, as Michio explained the small white circle on the screen.
Roark gripped my hand, lacing our fingers together. “That’s her?” His brogue was filled with wonderment.
I nodded, shakily. “Yeah.”
Jesse’s gaze flew from the screen to my flat belly. He touched my naval, splaying his fingers, his hand so large it covered my entire stomach from hip to hip.
His teeth worried the corner of his mouth, his eyes soft and glassy. “Is the baby healthy? Does everything look okay?”
Michio dragged his attention from the screen. “She’s healthy. They both are, as far as I can tell. But she’s only six weeks along. I need to run tests, and I can’t do that—”
“I know.” Jesse’s expression tightened. “We’ll get whatever and whoever you need.” Fear pushed through his determination, shattering in his eyes, as he looked down at me. “We’re not going to lose you.”
The sharp edge of his voice ripped and tore inside me. I moved to grasp his hand, but Roark beat me to it, pulling our laced fingers over Jesse’s on my belly.