Hers To Keep: THE QUINTESSENCE COLLECTION I

by Akeroyd, Serena

  Andrei cut him a look. “Kurt’s right. We need to get this out in the open.”

  Sean nodded, a little less tense now they’d both bared their feelings for her. “I agree.”

  “So do I.”

  The voice had their heads nearly spinning on their necks.

  Seeing Henry in the doorway, as one, they grimaced.

  Sean cleared his throat. “Henry. I thought you were upstairs.”

  “I was until I heard you rowing.” He shrugged. “It’s in my nature to investigate.” He sent them each a look, his shrewd eyes narrowing as he took them all in at a glance. “I knew something funny was going on the day I arrived here. Did you know I’d actually reserved a hotel room? I never expected Sascha’s bosses to put me up. But who was I to argue when she presumed I’d be staying with you? More time with her, I figured. As well as thinking you were obviously generous in nature.”

  Andrei shot him a tight smile. “We want her to be happy.”

  “Yeah. I saw that too. Thought it was good of you. That you were great bosses, didn’t want to lose her and appreciated her enough to go the extra mile. But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”

  Kurt cleared his throat. “Sascha’s happiness is very important to us, Henry. We’re concerned for her.”

  “I heard. I just can’t figure out why.” He tilted his head to the side as he stepped into the room. “Someone care to explain it to me?”

  Sean shook his head. “It isn’t our place.”

  “No? Well, if my daughter figured it was important enough then she should have told me herself, shouldn’t she? And anything that concerns her safety is imperative to me. So, tell me what’s going on, and we can pretend this conversation never happened.”

  Andrei’s jaw flexed. “I won’t go behind her back.”

  “You’re not. I overheard, loud and clear.” He crossed his arms over his chest—the man wasn’t going anywhere. “That you aren’t willing to address the issue without her consent, I appreciate. But I’m her father, and I want to know what it is you have going on here. With Sascha in particular. What is she to you?”

  And how do we answer that? Andrei thought, an uncomfortable clenching in his chest making him sit upright.

  Kurt, however, seemed to have it all in hand, because quite accurately, and very succinctly, he murmured, “She’s everything.”

  Thirty

  “You know I want to climb you like a staircase, right?”

  Sawyer snorted as he pulled out of the doctor’s clinic, but Devon beat him to it with, “That’s literally impossible, Sascha. You really should try to be more accurate.”

  “I’ll eat a dictionary,” she retorted. “Later. Now, I need one of you, or both of you, to screw me senseless.”

  Tension filled the car, and she saw them flash each other a glance in the rear-view mirror.

  “What?” she demanded, confused when they didn’t say anything, just looked at one another.

  “Nothing,” Sawyer said, his brogue suddenly very thick and noticeable.

  She shuffled in her seat, knowing she’d have more luck with Devon. He couldn’t be discreet if he tried.

  “Devon?”

  He kept his gaze trained on his knees. “Yes?”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Going on with what?”

  She huffed. “Okay. That’s it. Stop the car.”

  Sawyer’s head whipped around to face her. “What?”

  “Stop the car!”

  He scowled at her but pulled into the nearest loading bay. The instant he set the brake, his hand whipped out to lock the doors.

  She scowled at him. “What? Did you think I was going to leap out or something?”

  “I don’t know. I was making sure. This isn’t exactly the best area.” He eyed the streets with a scowl, then turned to her. “Why did you want me to pull over?”

  “Because you’re being weird. Weirder than usual,” she corrected, jerking her thumb in Devon’s direction. “What did I say? You were laughing before I mentioned wanting to screw you both.”

  He cleared his throat, and simultaneously, Devon shuffled in the backseat.

  “There you go again, dammit. What’s up with the fidgeting and throat clearing?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “We’re supposed to be honest with each other. That’s like the rule, isn’t it?” When all else failed, she knew if she fell back on that, it would make them cave in.

  “There’s honest and there’s honest, Sascha,” Sawyer said gruffly.

  “Well, I want very honest.”

  Silence fell, then Devon began to speak but Sawyer shot him a quelling look. “Shut up, Devon. If anyone’s going to explain this, it’s me. The last thing we need is your tongue out on the loose.”

  “No, he’s going in the right direction,” she retorted. “Devon? What’s going on?”

  “We haven’t done that. In a long time. That’s all.”

  She blinked in confusion. “Done what?”

  He scowled. “Fucked someone together.”

  Blinking harder, she felt her cheeks heat. “Oh.”

  Sawyer glanced at her. “Oh?”

  It was her turn to clear her throat. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  Sawyer groaned. “Are you kidding me?”

  She couldn’t help but giggle at his pained groan. “Nope, I’m not. But that’s very good to know.” She cut Devon a glance, saw he was equally as confused, then asked, “So, it’s something you haven’t done for a long time, but you’re amenable to the idea?”

  Sawyer shrugged. “Up to you. Now, can we get out of this area before someone steals Sean’s hubcaps?”

  She peered around. “It doesn’t look that bad to me.”

  “Trust the native, Yankee,” he retorted.

  “I’m not a Yankee. If anything, I’m from the South. Don’t you know your geography?” she teased.

  He wafted a hand. “You’re all gun-toting nutcases.”

  “But you’re cute with it, Sascha,” Devon pointed out kindly.

  “Gee, thanks,” she replied, amused by them both. “And yes, you can get us out of this rotten neighborhood, although I think you’re being a snob. Not everyone can live in Kensington, you know?”

  “I was raised on one of the roughest council estates in Glasgow, Sascha. Trust me, I know what’s rotten and what isn’t.”

  She knew council estates were the British equivalent of ‘Section A’ housing. They were kind of grim over here. All pre-fabricated buildings that stemmed from post-war utilitarianism.

  Well, that was the estates and not the tower blocks. A few of which had been in the news thanks to arson attacks and fires starting that engulfed the buildings.

  “So, back on topic, would you?”

  “Would we what?”

  “Don’t make out like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” she said crossly.

  Devon murmured, “I would. Sawyer’s the squeamish one.”

  “Just because I didn’t appreciate having your balls in my face doesn’t make me squeamish,” Sawyer retorted, making Sascha burst out laughing.

  “I really shouldn’t want the details, but I totally do.”

  Sawyer grumbled. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “If that’s what you’re into, Sascha,” Devon said, ever helpful, “Kurt or Andrei would probably be very accommodating.”

  “What about you?” she asked, peering over into the backseat to spear him with a glance.

  He grinned. “I’m game. Sawyer’s very sensitive about his balls.”

  The man in question growled. “What man isn’t? And it wasn’t my balls that were hanging low for all to see. I love you like a brother, know more about you than anyone bloody else, but that’s something I don’t need to know about you.”

  Sascha grinned. “You’re cute when you’re riled up.”

  He growled again. “You’re purposely pissing me off, and I was going to take you somewhere nice…” His lips pursed in a very mascu
line pout. “Might not bother now.”

  She cocked a brow. “Where were you thinking?”

  “Harrods.”

  Her eyes widened in interest. “What for?”

  “Those sweets you like,” he said gruffly. “Don’t know if I’ll bother now.”

  Her eyes sparkled at his grouchy tone—her Scot could be all bluster sometimes. “Don’t be mean.”

  “Mean? You’re the ones being mean to me!”

  “I did tell you how much I love it when you go all Scottish on me, right?”

  “I’m Scottish all the time,” he said proudly. “One hundred percent and proud.”

  “He’s very proud of being Scottish,” Devon inserted wryly. Although, knowing him, he didn’t mean it that way.

  She bit back a smile. “I think I deserve sweets,” she commented out of the blue, suddenly getting a craving for the fancy schmancy noisettes she’d discovered months ago.

  “I deserve a lot of things. Suffered through that visit to the doctors for you, didn’t I?” Sawyer remarked.

  Devon leaned between the headrests and peered at them both. “You didn’t have to come. I said I’d go with her.”

  “I’m not letting you drive her anywhere,” Sawyer scoffed, raising his brows as he looked at Devon in his mirror. “I’d like you both back in one piece at the end of the day.”

  Sensing an argument was approaching, Sascha quickly repeated, “I deserve sweets after having to ask that snooty bitch of a doctor for a note to prove I can have sex again. What do you think, Devon? Don’t you think I deserve them?”

  “The woman wants sweets, Sawyer. So that’s what we’ll give her. Harrods, here we come,” he declared, ignoring Sawyer’s grunt.

  As did she. She clapped her hands together, loving how they treated her, and ready and raring to enjoy her new favorite, atrociously expensive, in no way junk, junk food.

  Sascha wasn’t joking—if anyone deserved some carbs, it was her. After an uncomfortable conversation with the doctor, yet another round of blood tests and a pee sample, she’d been relieved as hell to make it out of the clinic with some fluids still inside her.

  Not least because Sawyer had looked like he was on the brink of puking every time they’d stuck her with a needle. God love him.

  Hell, God love them all!

  She knew she did. How couldn’t she? When they treated her like a damn queen.

  Her other relationships hadn’t been particularly healthy. Both of her exes had tried to control her through her self-esteem issues and had used her naivete to do so. They’d watched her food, commented on whatever she ate, making her look like a fatso if she ever had anything that wasn’t green or fat free…

  But her men? They loved her curves, her ripe generous form. They encouraged it. Andrei had taken her to that bakery after her last appointment at the doctor’s. And now Harrods for sweets? Talk about being indulged.

  As ever, warmth filled her at their generosity. It went more than just with their money, because hell, sweets from Harrods cost a fortune. But with themselves, they were open and giving, warm and kind.

  How could she not love them? Love everything they gave her?

  The answer was, it was impossible not to.

  * * *

  Andrei found them in a lingerie department.

  The hallowed halls were rife with people. Japanese tourists were taking selfies, sneaking them here and there as they darted about the store. Women, with the ubiquitous green and gold-logoed bags, strode on extremely high heels as they headed from the upper shopping store to the food market.

  Sawyer had given him a head’s up when he’d texted after their location—intending to meet up with them.

  Having divulged the reality of Sascha’s situation, not only with the five of them but the accident that was no accident, to Henry, he was feeling surprisingly shaken up.

  It was probably to his detriment that she managed to rattle him the way she did. But the truth was, talking about Elizabeth Jacobie, hearing the truth of her past from her father’s life? It had scared him.

  She was in danger.

  Even here, in one of the city’s most indulgent tourist hotspots, who knew what Elizabeth Jacobie was capable of? She’d already hired someone to mow down Sascha and a bunch of innocent bystanders. Why not here? Why not target Sascha in this place too?

  Sawyer had told him he’d intended to treat her by stopping by the luxury department store, and it was ridiculous to feel like his presence could do anything to keep her safe. Sean had been with her that day on Regent’s Street, and he hadn’t been able to keep her in one piece. Why should three of them do the trick?

  Still, when he saw them, the unease and distress that had been knotted tightly in his chest unraveled as he saw her chuckling at something Devon said when she held up a teddy against her form.

  “Please tell me you’re buying ten of those in all our favorite colors?”

  “Andrei!” Sascha cried, grinning at the sight of him. She dropped the teddy uncaringly, flinging herself into his arms like she hadn’t seen him for days.

  The uncomplicated affection was almost more than he could stand. He loved how she gave so much to him; it opened up the closed spaces he’d locked away for his own protection. Even more than that, she didn’t make him fear the repercussions of having those spaces freed after so many years of being shut away.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded with a wide grin as she pressed a kiss to his lips.

  He shrugged. “The promise of your lips and some sweets. How could I resist?”

  Sawyer shot him a look that told him he knew something was going on, and that he’d expect to be told about it shortly. Devon, as ever, was oblivious and yet, mindful. The two contradictions only made sense where he was concerned.

  He undoubtedly knew that Andrei’s presence meant something, but at the same time, deemed it beyond his attention when Sascha was dashing between them with lacy bits of nothing in her hands.

  “I told them I have enough lingerie,” she was telling him, a reprimand to her tone.

  “Can a woman have too much lingerie?”

  “That’s what I said,” Sawyer retorted.

  “You got me here on the pretense of sweets,” she chided.

  “The sweets were for you. This is for us,” he said, no small amount of satisfaction edging his tone.

  She chuckled, then reached up to pat his chin.

  Surrounded by the three of them, she looked petite.

  In her own way, she was statuesque. Ripe and curvy, and tall for a woman at around five-eight, with her limbs toned but round.

  Between them however, she was tiny.

  Sawyer and Devon were nearer six-five than six feet, and he wasn’t exactly small at six-two. Plus, they were built. Even Devon worked out when his insomnia grew too bad or math fucked with his brain so that he couldn’t reason his way out of the hole he found himself in.

  It was almost amusing to note that they looked like her bodyguards. If only they could protect her as well.

  “Have you gone for sweets yet?” Andrei asked.

  She snorted. “As if. They hustled me up here before I even had a chance to pout.”

  Sawyer folded his arms across his chest. “The only way you’ll get any man shopping is if you come into this department.”

  “Or the shoe department,” Devon inserted, his fingers flipping through garters. He shot her a quick grin. “You look more fuckable than usual in heels, Sascha. I miss you not cleaning up in them actually.”

  Her smile turned naughty as she tapped the cast still protecting her wrist. “When this bad boy’s off, normal service will be resumed.” She turned to him. “Speaking of, Andrei. I’ve been assured that if I want you and…” She licked her lips. “Someone else to entertain me, you’ll accommodate me.”

  Andrei froze, and then shot Sawyer a look, well aware that Devon would be little to no help. “Excuse me?”

  She pressed herself against him, and he was almost
ashamed to feel his cock twitch as her scent filled his senses, pervading the air he breathed.

  “I think you know what I’m talking about.”

  He gulped in astonishment. “You’d want that?” Fuck, how did she perfect perfection?

  “I didn’t think I would,” she confessed, “but when they mentioned it by accident, I was intrigued.”

  “How do you mention something like that by accident?” he demanded hoarsely, his gaze darting between his friends.

  “A misunderstanding,” Sawyer confessed gruffly. “Now she won’t stop talking about it.”

  Andrei had to hide a laugh. Sawyer still hadn’t gotten over fucking a woman at the same time as Devon and getting Devon’s balls slapped in his face.

  He raised a hand and with a finger, trailed it along the edge of her jaw. “Yes.”

  She blinked. “Yes, what?”

  “If that’s what you want, I’m game.”

  A sigh escaped her, and it was breathy and excited and aroused and, of course, perfect.

  “Really?”

  He nodded, his lips twitching. “Have you ever had anal sex?”

  Her eyes widened. “A long time ago.”

  “We’ll stop off and buy some lube,” he promised. “Did you like it?”

  She nodded. “Oh God, is this really happening?”

  “It can if you want it, sweetheart.”

  Catching her teeth between her bottom lip, the tips of her fingers curled into his chest, scratching him through his shirt as she whispered, “I do. I really do.”

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Then that’s what will happen.” To Devon, he asked, “You game?”

  Devon smirked. “What do you think?”

  Andrei pulled back. “You got the doctor’s note, right?”

  “Yeah, and she thought it was damn strange when I not only turned up with two different men at my side but had to ask for a note from her to say normal activities could be resumed.” She rolled her eyes. “Sean owes me. Big time.”

  “To be fair, we all needed to know that you’re healthier enough for that side of things, Sascha. You should have been honest with us before and told us you weren’t ready,” Sawyer murmured, ever fair.