by Kit Rocha
"I'm careful." Nessa's voice grew serious. "Shit, I was fifteen the first time someone tried to find the secret to O'Kane whiskey inside my pants. I let Bren take a pass at anyone who wants to get to second base."
Rachel almost choked on the whiskey. "That'd scare off anyone who wanted to do anything more nefarious than pin you to a wall."
Nessa's good humor never stayed quiet for long. Laughter lurked in her eyes as she leaned into Rachel. "Hey, if I'm stuck with all these big brothers, they can fucking well earn their keep."
"It's their solemn duty," she agreed, unable to keep her own grin in check.
"And your solemn duty?" Nessa rose and snatched the bottle, holding it out of Rachel's reach. "Get your head around the dirty details, baby, because I am dying for some girl talk so filthy those boys start blushing and don't even know why."
"Hey, if you really want to know? Stick around after Six and Jade drink in. You know Ace isn't shy at parties."
Nessa solemnly lifted a hand, and Rachel hit her with a high-five. Maybe it wasn't much, but it still felt like a small victory for the untouchable girls.
As proud as he was about always rolling with life's punches, there was one thing Ace wasn't sure he'd ever get used to.
Sentimental Bren.
Not that the man looked like he'd gone soft. He was sprawled in Ace's chair, his face as stony as ever, but the simple tattoo Ace was finishing up on the inside of Bren's left forearm screamed its own sappy message. Today's date--the date Six was drinking in as one of them--under a single word.
Hope.
Truth in art, man. If Brendan Donnelly could fall cross-eyed crazy in love, maybe there was hope for all of them. "Almost done. Is your fighter-girl excited about her big night?"
"Oh yeah." He smiled. "She's going for double shots. Can't let the men show her up."
Rachel was the only woman who'd ever done the full sixteen shots, and Ace had fallen a little in love with her that night. "No wonder you got stupid, brother. That girl's as crazy as you are."
"I know." Bren eyed his fresh ink. "It's gonna be one hell of a party."
Ace rolled his tray closer to retrieve a tube of med-gel and savored the potential of a party. Rachel got off on a crowd, and tonight's onlookers would be perfect. They'd be O'Kanes, men and women who would protect Rachel with their lives and revel in her pleasure.
In their pleasure. Because she sure as fuck wouldn't be the only one getting off.
"How's Cruz doing?"
Bren was watching him with a too-observant look, the one that saw everything. "He's good. He had another meeting in Eden today with that secret contact of his."
Bren nodded. "Six said Rachel was upset he got himself shot."
His heart rate spiked before he realized Bren wasn't talking about something that had happened in Eden, but during the raid last night. The memory of Rachel's initial concern had been drowned out by what had followed.
Christ, half of Ace's life to date had been drowned out by what followed.
"She got over it," he said wryly, and because Bren would find out soon enough, Ace grinned. "Nakedness will do that."
"I bet." The other man flashed him an appraising look. "Is that how it is now?"
"I guess so." Ace smoothed some gel over the finished tattoo and barely managed to keep the smug fucking smile off his face. "Serious enough about it that I paid a visit to Stuart's shop and bought some jewelry from his sister."
Another rare smile curved Bren's lips. "Congratulations, man."
"Yeah, I'm a lucky bastard. And you're all done." Ace rolled his stool back. "Let me grab you a bandage, and then you know the drill. Should be able to take it off before the party."
"Thanks." Bren flexed his arm, his smile lingering. "Did you ever think you'd see the day?"
"Which day?"
"This one. Me, with a woman's name on my skin."
Ace studied the tattoo again before placing the tightly woven gauze over it. Hope. Not just a feeling, then, but Six's mysterious real name. It was almost tragic when you knew the sort of shit the girl had survived to make it to Sector Four--or maybe that made it all the more appropriate. No one lasted in hell for as long as she had without hope burning in their gut.
And hope spread. Bren had touched the spark of it, and now he burned so bright it hurt to look at him straight on.
Taping the gauze into place, Ace returned Bren's smile. "Just had to find the right one. You know you're hot stuff, Donnelly."
"Uh-huh. What about you--buying a collar?"
Ace caught movement out of the corner of his eye--a glimpse of blonde hair through the barred window--and threw Bren a wink as he smoothed down the final edge of tape. "You know I'm hot stuff, too."
"Yeah, you're--" The bell on the front door jingled, and Bren snapped his mouth shut as Rachel walked in.
"Uh-oh." She leaned over the chair to kiss Bren's cheek. "My ears are burning."
"They should be." Ace patted Bren's shoulder as he rose--and got his first good look at Rachel.
The dress she'd picked wasn't fancy. It could have been--God knew Jasper had damn near kick-started a new trade in ruffles and lace, buying Noelle all the pretty things she liked--but Rachel had gone for something plainer. Something...her.
Simple white knit fabric, and it could have looked like she'd stolen one of those muscle shirts Cruz liked to wear when he worked out, except she would have been drowning in that. This gorgeous thing clung to her breasts and skimmed her curves like it had been made just for her.
She folded her hands in front of her, a gentle blush rising on her face. "Hi."
Bren coughed and stood. "Well, I'm out of here." He paused long enough to brush his thumb over one of Rachel's reddened cheeks. "See you tonight."
"See you." She watched him go, her teeth set into her lower lip.
When the door had swung shut behind him, Ace gave in to temptation and laid his hands on her hips. "So he gets a kiss and I don't?"
"You get a different kind." The corners of her lips turned up in a small smile, and she slid her arms around his neck. "Unless you want me to start making out with Bren. Six might kick my ass, though."
It had been so long since he'd had Rachel like this. Smiling at him, open. He'd killed her trust in bits and pieces the last time, crushing it so slowly he hadn't seen the light go out of her. But it was back now, so vivid he was almost afraid to touch her.
Almost. He smoothed his hands around to the small of her back and traced one up her spine. "Nah, she likes you. You'd get a warning."
"Not much of one." Her smile grew wicked. "Especially if I liked it."
Ace tried to imagine Bren and Rachel tangling tongues, and for the first time felt a hint of sympathy for Six's possessive tendencies. Playing could be fun, but he'd finally gotten his hands on Rachel, and sharing didn't appeal to him--with one exception.
That exception came walking through the door, clutching a package wrapped in brown paper. Cruz met his gaze with a short nod, and Ace dropped a quick kiss to Rachel's lips. "Now we're all here."
She raised one eyebrow at the parcel in Cruz's hands. "What's that?"
A miracle. Stuart did good business in leather and steel work for the O'Kanes, but his sister was the one with the delicate touch when it came to accessories. She'd accepted all of Ace's requests with a gleam in her eye at the money coming her way, but he'd had to promise her any tattoo she wanted to get one project done before tonight.
"This is an offer," Cruz answered, holding the package out to Rachel. "What happens next is your choice."
She took it and peeled away the paper wrapping slowly enough to reveal the fine tremor in her hands. By the time she opened the white box inside, the tremor had intensified. "I didn't know we were doing this right away. Today."
It had been Ace's idea. His safety net. The collar came with a set of rules he could wrap his brain around, and expectations he could handle. And Rachel would be his, for however long they maintained this precarious balance
...
If she'd wear it.
Ace was still struggling for the right words--the ones that wouldn't push, wouldn't demand--when Cruz stepped into the silence.
And his words were as perfect as always, just like the way he delivered them. Strong and firm, as he cupped Rachel's cheek with one big hand. "It's like I said, sweetheart. It's an offer. Ace had it made, but we didn't discuss the details. Not without you. Whatever we make this, we decide together."
Rachel melted, her eyes drifting shut as she leaned into his touch. "I want it. It surprised me, that's all."
Cruz met his gaze over her head, and Ace's momentary prick of jealousy vanished under the naked hunger in the other man's eyes. Not guarded, not reluctant--and not all for Rachel this time.
Something had changed.
Smiling, Cruz slipped his hand into Rachel's hair and gathered it off her shoulders. "Ace?"
He reached around Rachel to retrieve the box, and damned if he didn't owe Stuart's sister two tattoos for the masterwork inside, because it was fucking perfect. Three strands of chain interwoven with thin black ribbon, not the cheap stuff they sold in the market but soft, nubby silk.
Ace lifted it out of the lining fabric, and Christ, his hands were close to shaking, too. "Turn around. It latches in the front."
When she complied, he looped the choker around her neck. The toggle clasp rested in the hollow of her throat, a perfect silver circle with another pair of beribboned chains trailing down between her breasts. Ace traced his fingers down their length with a smile. "Ribbons and chains."
Her eyes locked with his. He'd never settled on a color for them. Sometimes they flared a smoky gray that was almost blue, and sometimes they seemed more like hazel ringed with tiny flecks of gold.
He had a whole damn pre-Flare palette of colors memorized, and not one did justice for the way her eyes looked as she beamed up at him and whispered, "I love it."
Ace wrapped the ends of the chains around his fingers and gave them a teasing tug. "Me, too."
She gasped in a breath and reached back, steadying herself with one hand on Cruz's thigh. He locked an arm around her waist and met Ace's gaze again. "You two have been around the sectors for a while, so maybe this goes without saying, but I need it nice and clear. This means we're all-in? Exclusive?"
Exclusive. The word fit as awkwardly as another man's boots, carrying with it too many unpleasant memories. Exclusive had been his specialty in Eden, because that was what women wanted when they paid to be a man's muse--total, unshakable devotion.
After years of being owned, even the O'Kanes' definition of monogamy felt almost claustrophobic. But that's what a collar was--a promise that things were serious, that there would be no friendly visits to hookers or casual fucking with other friends.
Well, or at least that they'd visit the hookers and fuck the friends together.
"Rachel's still got her shows," he said slowly, buying time and covering his nerves with an easy smile. "Work shouldn't count. But I've been thinking of cutting back on mine, anyway. Too much shit to do in Three, and I'd rather spend my time spanking Rae."
He said the last with another teasing tug on the chain, and she swayed toward him. Then she leaned her head back against Cruz's shoulder. "You've already figured it out. Anything we want, so long as we all agree. But I..." She trailed off as she wound a hand in the front of Ace's shirt. "I don't want anybody else."
Beautiful fucking words, and they distracted him from his lingering unease. So did looking at her. She was gorgeous like this, her back bowed, chin up, chains--his chains--around her throat. He wanted to draw this moment, capture the way she was trapped between them, eager.
Theirs.
Cruz splayed a possessive hand just beneath her tits and smiled at Ace. "I'll have my hands full with the two of you."
"Especially Ace." Rachel tugged on the thin cotton he wore until he took a step forward. It aligned his hips with hers, and he felt the warmth of Cruz's arm through his shirt.
The other man smiled at him, and who could blame the girls for throwing themselves at the bastard's feet when he got that look in his eyes? Ace had created a monster, and that monster wasn't thinking ours.
He was thinking mine, and he was thinking it about both of them.
Ace stroked a hand up Rachel's arm and kept going, along Cruz's chest and up over his shoulder. "That's right, brother," he murmured, answering the unspoken words as much as the ones Rachel had given voice. "We'll keep your hands busy, won't we, Rae?"
Her hand drifted lower. "In the very best ways."
Cruz's eyes narrowed, and he caught Rachel's wrist. "Was Ace gentle with you this morning?"
Her breathing hitched, and her smile was pure bliss. "Excruciatingly."
"Tell me."
Ace opened his mouth, but Cruz shook his head, lifting Rachel's hand to press her finger against Ace's lips. "Not you. I want Rachel to tell me what you did to her."
"We took a shower," she whispered. "He used his fingers to make me come. God, it was so slow. Hot."
He'd wanted to use his tongue, but then he wouldn't have been able to watch her face as she drifted into bliss. So he used it now, drawing the tip of her index finger into his mouth and dragging his tongue in a slow, suggestive circle.
Her gaze clashed with his, and she shuddered in Cruz's arms. "I tried to push him," she confessed. "He wouldn't let me."
"Good," Cruz rumbled, releasing her wrist. Ace scraped his teeth along her finger as he pulled away, reveling in the flush climbing her cheeks. Christ, the two of them together could make her flush all over.
No, not could. Would. He pressed a kiss to Rachel's palm before taking a careful step back. Patience. She was warm now, soft and melting, but by the time the real party started tonight she'd be burning up. "Time to head over to the warehouse. You've got shots to pour, angel."
She blinked, then moaned faintly. "You play dirty. Both of you."
Cruz stroked his fingertips along the ribbons and chain at her throat and smiled. "No, for now we're playing it safe. Dirty comes later."
"Could have fooled me."
Ace couldn't leave that unchallenged. He leaned in and let his breath dance across the skin beneath her ear. "You know better, don't you, love?"
Her tongue touched her bottom lip, just for a moment, then she sighed shakily. "I have drinks to pour."
"Lots of drinks," Ace agreed, straightening. He broke the tension by tossing her a wink. "Better look out. Six is gunning for your record, angel."
"I hope she pulls it off." Rachel's smile took on an edge of shyness that did nothing to dull her happy glow. "This should be everyone's best day ever."
She didn't see his doubt, and Ace was glad. She burned so bright, with so much hope, he didn't have the heart to tell her it didn't get better than this.
So he touched her cheek and told her a version of the truth. His version. "Too late. It already is."
Chapter Nine
The last time Cruz had attended a welcome party, it had been his own.
He'd been the one downing shot after shot, trusting his training to keep him steady on his feet. And it might have, if the alcohol had been the most affecting part of the initiation. It should have been--there was nothing about booze and hugs that should have been more than quaint, maybe even innocent.
But there was a cunning sort of brilliance under the tradition. You took a shot--two, if you were a guy, or stubborn like Rachel and Six--and traversed a gauntlet of back slaps and embraces. Over and over, with the liquor chipping away at your defenses and the welcome sneaking its way under your skin. By the time he'd choked down the rotgut at the end of the line, he'd been grateful for his blessedly numb taste buds, not to mention drowning in the seductive allure of what Dallas O'Kane was offering.
Belonging. Family. The sectors were lousy with orphans, and Dallas knew just how to bind them to him. Not with fear or threats, but with loyalty and affection and the promise of comfort and companionship.
&n
bsp; Lord knew it had worked on Six. She'd done her double shots and was still flying high, dancing with Rachel and Noelle in a tangle of long limbs and laughter. And that wasn't even the damn miracle.
Bren was watching her with a soft smile so at odds with his rough face, like everything worth having in the world rested on one wary-eyed brunette. Cruz had known the man for years, years during which he'd been sure there was nothing soft inside Brendan Donnelly.
Of course, Bren might have said the same about him.
Cruz fell in beside his friend as Noelle whispered something to Six that made her dissolve into husky laughter so wild that Rachel had to steady her. The chain around her throat caught a glint of light, stirring a longing he'd indulge. Soon.
For now, he smiled. "I have to admit, I figured she'd be throwing those shots back up by now."
Bren laughed--an honest-to-God fucking laugh. "Hey, there's no shame in that. Happens to the best of us."
Six would probably disagree. There was a pride in the girl that the entire brutal weight of the sectors hadn't been able to snuff out. It hadn't been evident in her earliest days, but that was another thing Dallas nurtured in the people he gathered close to him--stubborn, breathless pride.
And fuck, it was addictive. Far more habit-forming than the whiskey that supported their lifestyle. "Congratulations, Bren."
"The way I hear it, I should be congratulating you."
Oh yeah. Pride was addictive, all right. It filled his chest with the uncivilized smugness of a barbarian showing off his conquests. "Maybe, yeah."
"What, you're not sure?" Bren teased.
Cruz snorted. "I'm not sure what the rumors say. Not sure I want to know."
"No rumors. I heard it from Ace earlier today, and I've got eyes." Bren scratched his thumb over his forehead. "I know what you're thinking."
That made one of them. "And what's that?"
"That I'm going to tell you it's wrong. That you can't do this--no way, no how. That you're going to hell, or someplace worse. That you need to stop thinking with your dick."