It’s every little town in America, a picturesque main street still brightened by Christmas lights and charming old-fashioned street lamps. There’s a café and deli that look deserted, and to the right, the university sprawls, classic architecture lending to the air of academia. Students scurry through the large swaths of dead grass, braced against the chill. We pass another café, this one much busier, and Megan bounces out of my arms. “Stop!”
For the first time today, her eyes are bright. “We have to go in.”
“Where, Meggy?”
She points at the café. Hill of Beans. I eye it and shrug. What the hell, she’s finally happy—I’m not going to squash that.
Megan is practically bouncing in place as Asher parks, and we clamber out. The air is cool and crisp and carries the heavy scent of coffee and pastries. Megan abandons us as she hurries to the café and pulls the door open with a clatter.
A slim man, a bit older than us, is standing behind the counter, prepping a drink for the girl standing at the end of the bar. People are scattered around, studying and talking softly, creating a soft ambiance that is instantly soothing.
“Megan Beauchamp.” A slow drawl, heavy with southern warmth. Asher steps in behind me, and I look to the speaker. Megan is grinning from ear to ear and squeals as the man comes from behind the counter and wraps her in a rough hug. “You look amazing, darlin’.”
“My god, Jeff! This place is gorgeous. Last time I was home you were still in that little cart on campus.”
He grins. “We expanded.” His gaze flits to me and Asher, briefly, and she steps back, suddenly self-conscious.
“These are some friends—they’re in town on research. Knox, and Luca.”
Jeff nods amiably, his expression admirably blank. “Jeff Curtis. Good to meet y’all.”
“You too.”
“Jeff gave me my first job,” Megan says, her eyes dancing. “For free, of course.”
He smirks and moves back behind the counter. I relax as he puts some distance between himself and Megan, a jealous knot uncoiling.
When did I get jealous?
“How long are you in town?” he asks.
“Not sure. Maybe a few days—maybe a couple weeks. Depends on how long the boys need,” she says.
His eyes narrow a little, and then the expression clears. “What can I get you?”
“Any blackberry scones?” she asks hopefully.
He grins and nods. Megan squeals. “Three, a mocha latte, dirty chai, and hot tea.”
She reaches for her wallet, and Jeff waves her off, chatting about people and places I’ve never heard of while he makes our drinks. He scribbles something on the side of Megan’s cup and taps it as he slides the order across the counter.
“Call me. We’ll do dinner.” She nods and leans across the wooden counter to kiss his cheek. Jeff’s gaze softens a little, and then she’s pulling away.
“It was good to meet y’all,” he calls as we follow Megan out of the little café. I shoot a glare over my shoulder and catch his gaze—he’s smiling, a knowing glint to his eyes that pisses me off.
Back in the car, Megan is looser, comfortable and relaxed against her seat. She hums softly, and I don’t want to kill that—
“Who the fuck is that?” Asher spits.
Alright, then. We’re going to wreck that. Megan jerks, as if slapped. Her eyes, wide and shocked, dart to the backseat, where Asher and I are. He’s glaring, and I’m trying to look out the window, but struggling to keep the anger off my face.
“Jeff? We grew up together—he lived a few streets away and used to sit with me when Nik disappeared with Atticus.”
“He was a bit friendly for a babysitter, don’t you think?”
“I think your being an ass,” she snaps. Her gaze darts to me. I meet it and shrug. She huffs a laugh and turns away. “Un-fucking-believable.”
We’re all quiet as she drives the rest of the way to the hotel. She jerks the car to a stop in the parking lot and explodes from the front seat. Fury makes her entire body stiff—I’ve seen her like this.
Megan wears her anger like armor, and fuck the people who get in her way when she’s on a tear.
“Megan!” Knox shouts, and I grab his arm as she storms inside.
“Don’t. Let her have a minute.”
“That guy was all over her.”
“She has friends, Ash. She had a whole life here, before she left town.” He falters, and I shake my head. In the face of his anger and hers, it’s easier to let go of my own. Easier to bridge a peace between them.
Which is weird as fuck, because that was always Dylan, before.
“You have to realize we’re going to see people here, people we don’t know—she had a history, an entire life here before she left. We can’t be jealous every time some guy looks at her.”
He smirks, slides a glance at me. “You are the only guy who can look at her without me being jealous.”
My breath catches, and he shoves the door open, stepping out into the crisp southern air. I watch for a second as he walks toward the elegant hotel, and then he turns and beckons, and I know that I shouldn’t go—booking a hotel room with two men is a sure way to kill Megan’s reputation in this tiny town. But a smile is playing on his lips and anger is brewing in his eyes, and I wouldn’t turn away from them for the world.
Asher
The problem is I’m angry. I’m completely pissed, and I know it, but I can’t seem to turn it off. I saw that asshat, the way he hugged Meg. The way his eyes had slid, too appreciatively, over Luca. The flare of recognition tamped down in his eyes when he looked at me.
All of it added up to grate at my nerves and piss me the fuck off, and I want to feel something—something besides dirty and mad.
Megan is smiling and taking the keys from a bright-eyed teen boy, but I know that expression. As soon as she turns away, her smile falls and she scowls. “You and Luca are upstairs—third floor. I’m on the second.”
There is a hitch in Luca’s step. She doesn’t bother slowing to explain, just leads the way to the bank of elevators. I exchange a quick look with Luca, and he frowns. The elevator dings, and I step on first. Megan steps in and skirts to the side, but I catch her by the hips and settle her against me as Luca prowls into the tiny box. The doors glide shut, and he steps into her space, pressing her between us. She whimpers, going soft in my grip, her body loosing that troublesome stiffness.
“Why are you angry?” he murmurs, nipping at her earlobe. I dip down, kissing her neck, and her head falls back to rest on my shoulder.
“You’re jealous.”
“Yes,” I say, softly, and bite down on her neck. She shudders, a full body ripple. My dick hardens. Our girl likes a touch of pain in her sex. “Jeff is a little too friendly.”
My hands drift down, away from her hips. I palm Luca’s erection, and he hisses, thrusting into the touch. I smile and add, “I won’t share. Not either of you. Remember that.”
The elevator doors open, and we spill out into the empty hall. She looks sexy as fuck, hair disheveled, nipples hard, and her gaze sleepy. Luca shifts the bag to cover his erection, and I smoother a laugh.
“Why separate rooms?” Luca asks, curiously, as she unlocks the door to her room.
“Appearances,” she says. “It’s a small town, boys. I need y’all to understand that.”
I nod, and she sways over to me, her hips a sexy rhythm I want to memorize.
“When did you know Jeff was gay?”
Luca curses softly at my side, and I shrug. “When he checked Luca out.”
She laughs and turns away.
Chapter Sixteen
Megan
“So I’m going to call Atticus, see if we can meet with him tomorrow.”
It’s late, and we’re all sitting on my king-sized bed. The boys retreated to their room when we arrived, showering and settling in, but I wasn’t surprised when they came knocking. They were freshly showered and shaved, smelling of soap and mint
y toothpaste, and I wanted to spend the evening rolling around my bed, but that needed to be tabled until we got in touch with Atticus.
Asher’s stomach growls, and I smirk. “And then we can go to Smoky Q and grab some sandwiches.”
“Do we have to leave?” Luca murmurs, running a hand over the inside of my thigh. I’m wearing tiny sleep shorts, the first thing I found to put on, and I shiver as he caresses me.
“Yes,” Asher says firmly. “Because I’m starving. Now quit groping her and let her do her thing.”
Luca sits up, pouting, and Asher leans across me, catching him by the back of his neck and dragging him into a kiss. I stare, my mouth dry as they kiss, and Luca’s hand comes up to tangle in Knox’s hair. He groans, a low noise that has me squirming on the bed.
When Asher finally pulls away, Luca’s breathing is ragged, his eyes dilated with hunger and need. “What was that for?” he asks, his voice tight.
Asher smirks and sits back. “Make your call, pet. I want you two naked. Soon.”
Well. When he puts it that way.
I clear my throat and grab my phone, pulling up Atti’s number and waiting as it rings through.
“Hello?”
The voice is laughing and feminine, and it isn’t my sister, which is so wrong it’s hard to wrap my head around. I pull the phone away and look at the display. Yep. Right number.
He said he was with someone, but I didn’t expect to get smacked in the face with her.
“Megan?” the voice says, my name a puzzled question.
I clear my throat again. “Sorry. Um. I’m trying to reach Atti?”
“He’s burning dinner,” she says, giggling, and I hear a low masculine voice I recognize. “One second.”
There is a bewildering splash of laughter and muffled voices, and then, “Megs?” I relax a little as Atticus’ voice smoothes over the line, warming me.
“Hey, Atti. How are you?”
“If my fiancée would leave me alone and let me cook, I’d be better,” he growls
“You’re engaged?”
He hesitates, and then, “Yeah. We got engaged a couple nights ago. I…well, can I talk about it when you get to town?”
“You don’t owe me an explanation,” I say automatically. He doesn’t. After Nik’s behavior, I didn’t blame him too much for walking away. I just—things change, when you leave home for a year and a half. Even the things that you think will always be the same.
“I’m here,” I say into the awkward silence. “We got to town a few hours ago.”
“Do you want to meet for lunch tomorrow? I have to go to the big house.”
“Sure. You don’t mind meeting with my clients?”
“No, of course not. You know I love talking about Jean.”
I laugh, remembering the glazed looks Nik and I often had when Atticus would come for dinner and go on a history tangent.
“What time should we be there?”
We make plans to meet at one thirty, and I hang up, dropping my phone onto the bed. Luca is propped up, flipping through the script of Black Tides. He looks up as I hang up and smirks up at me. “Dinner?”
I look down, at my state of undress, and nod. “Clothes first.”
We spend an hour at Smokey Pig, laughing over chipped sandwiches and fried corn on the cob—a delicacy the boys have never experienced before. A few people do a double take upon seeing us, but it’s a relaxed sort of thing—the reaction to the prodigal daughter returning home rather than to her sitting at a table with Isaac Kreigh and a man whose abs have worldwide fame.
It’s disconcerting, and strangely nice, to be the one getting attention. I am used to standing in Asher’s shadow. Maybe it’s comfortable there, because I spent so much time in Nik’s shadow.
“I don’t understand why you have to fry it, though,” Asher says. “It’s a perfectly good ear of corn, before you fry it.”
“They fry everything, man. They fry Snickers and balls of mayo,” Luca interjects, a laugh in his voice.
“Both of y’all shut up. Or I won’t share my fried apple pie.”
They stare at me like I’ve lost my mind, and I stick my tongue out then stand and strut to the door. I glance back, once, a smile tickling the corners of my lips. “Y’all coming?”
Both scramble to follow me.
Asher
I’ve never seen this side of her. She’s all laughter and light, and hasn’t looked at her phone since we left the hotel.
I’m pretty sure that’s some kind of record.
She tosses Luca the keys, and we slip into the back, where she promptly snuggles into my arms with a happy little sigh. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into my lap, and Luca glances back at us. He hits the blinker and turns onto a side road.
“This isn’t the way back,” Meg protests.
Luca ignores her and glances back at me. “If she falls asleep because you get her off in the car, I’ll kick your ass.”
I smirk, and his eyes twinkle with suppressed laughter. Then he turns around and drives, taking random turns. After the second, I lose track—because Megan is soft and warm in my arms and I can’t think of anything but how she looked on that cheap hotel bed, lost in pleasure. Without letting myself think of anything else, I kiss her, and she arches into the touch, craning back for my kiss as I stroke a hand down her hip and back up, until her breast is filling my hand and I want these damn clothes off. I shove her shirt up and her bra down, thankful Luca was smart enough to invest in tinted windows when he bought this car. She’s panting, her ass pushing against my dick. I break the kiss, groaning as she wiggles against me.
“Fuck, I want you,” I hiss, and she laughs, a smoky sound that turns into a whimper when I pinch her nipple between my fingers, tugging just enough to get her attention. She shivers, and I grin, licking at the curve of her neck.
Luca is driving slowly now, his gaze darting to the rearview mirror so often it’s a wonder we haven’t crashed.
“Should I let you come, pet? Or should I wait and let Luca watch while I fuck you?”
She gasps, and I laugh, sliding a hand down to the button of her pants. I hesitate for a heartbeat, and she shifts impatiently. I pop the button and slip my hand into her jeans, under the silk of her little panties. I groan as I slip a finger through the wet heat pooling between her legs and thrust two fingers into her, the tiniest bit. She whimpers, her hips undulating, and if she doesn’t stop that, I’m going to embarrass myself. She twists her head as she moves, shamelessly riding my fingers as she catches my lips in a kiss, her tongue pumping into my mouth. Her hips move faster, a desperate race to her peak, and I reach up with my free hand, rolling her nipple between my fingers. She stiffens, and I feel her body shudder, her pussy tightening around my fingers. Megan whimpers against my lips, a needy, almost broken noise, and I smile as she goes limp.
“Dammit, English,” Luca says, his tone tight with irritation and desire. I slip my fingers from her and let her shift to the seat.
Without thinking through my actions, I lean forward and bring my fingers to Luca’s lips. I can feel Megan watching us and the wary caution in Luca. But then his lips close over my fingers, and my cock jerks. I wait, barely breathing, as he sucks my fingers clean. Then I sit back and Megan curls into my side, her finger brushing my erection.
“Not now,” I say hoarsely. “Wait till we get to the hotel.”
Megan
I keep thinking I’ll get used to this, being caught between Luca and Asher, both their attention like a hot brand, marking me as theirs.
But then, I thought I could play this off as meaningless sex that would be forgotten once the sheets cooled.
It’s so much more than that, and I can’t deny it, not anymore. Luca holds my hand as we walk through the hotel, and I wonder, if I kiss him, will he taste like me?
I shake the thought, focusing on the feel of his fingers wound around my own. Asher opens the door to my room as we approach, and I hesitate at the blatant desire in his eye
s. His gaze flares, taking us in, and he points. "Sit in the chair, Megan."
Luca
She doesn't protest, dropping my hand and walking across the room to the single chair.
"Undress first," he adds, without looking away from me. Behind him, I see her hesitate, and I wonder if it's from the way he's giving orders, or if it's the order itself. But she reaches for the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head without fanfare. Her hair is a little messed when she drops the top, and then she unsnaps her jeans and peels them down, standing in her heels, bra, and panties.
Asher snaps his fingers lightly, and my gaze darts to him. "What do you want, Luc?" he asks, his voice a soft whisper that sets my blood on fire. It’s a challenge, and I catch his fingers, squeezing them.
"I want more than this."
His eyes dilate, and he smirks. "I think Megan needs to see just what she's getting herself into."
I nod and strip out of my shirt. Asher opens his arms, and I step into his space, unbuttoning his shirt with nimble fingers then leaning down, catching the flat disk of his nipple with my teeth. He hisses, a sound so mixed with desire the pain is washed away. Without waiting for his cue, I hit my knees, palming his erection through his jeans. His hips roll into my touch, almost without his permission, and his head falls back. I loosen his belt quickly and shove the jeans and his boxers aside, suddenly desperate to have him.
She whimpers, a sound that twists with his groan, as I take him deep, until the broad head of his cock pushes against the back of my throat. I bob quickly, tightening the suction of my lips and giving him the best fucking blow job I've ever given.
It counts. This counts. More than any relationship I've had since Dylan, this matters. And I'm terrified I'll fuck it up somehow.
Asher's hand is on my head, fingers brushing over the stubble on my scalp, his groans a steady beat in my ears, as I suck his cock.
"She likes this," Asher gasps out, and I fist the base of his dick, giving him a slow stroke. "Shit," he hisses, and I look up to see his eyes have slipped closed.
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