by Kit Rocha
"That's how I feel," Jade admitted. "My mother held on until I was fifteen. And every damn day she told me I was loved, I was strong, that I deserved the world. Sometimes I try to imagine what Noelle's parents told her every day, and I can't understand how she still has the courage to smile."
"We do what we have to do," Scarlet whispered.
Jade rubbed her cheek against Scarlet's and closed her eyes. She loved being held like this, Scarlet's familiar body warm and soft and safe. In the first weeks after she'd recovered from withdrawal, she'd had dark moments of wondering if pleasure would be tainted for her now. If the sick helplessness of the drugs had done what years of tending to the petty desires of petty men couldn't.
But Scarlet was bright and pure, clean even when she was gloriously filthy. She'd brought joy back to the body that had so betrayed Jade. She was fiercely tender, wildly protective.
Lying in her embrace, Jade hated herself for missing more from Sector One than just the bathtub.
Scarlet smoothed Jade's furrowed brow with the pad of her thumb. "What are you thinking about?"
Jade wished it didn't occur to her to lie. But even with all that joy, with so much trust, it was still her first impulse. With effort, she pushed past it. "About how small my bed seems. And...how big."
"You mean how empty."
Not a question. Maybe Scarlet felt it, too. "Yes. How empty."
Scarlet studied her with an expression as inscrutable as her unspoken thoughts.
How did the people in Sector One do it? God, how did Rachel and Cruz and Ace do it? At least it was expected in Sector One, accepted. Here, it carried the potential to break a heart. Because there was no coming back from you're not enough, even if the words were never spoken.
And that wasn't the biggest danger. "What happened was a dream. We're awake now. If we...did something…"
Scarlet sat up a little straighter. "It wasn't a dream, Jade. But you're right—it's different here. At home."
"Yes," Jade agreed, lifting a hand to cup Scarlet's cheek. "I don't want to hurt you by wanting them. That's the thing that scares me most."
"But you do want them, and how I feel about it won't change that. It can't. It shouldn't." She hesitated. "Permission, is that it?"
Jade wanted to deny it. She was a grown woman, one who owned her life and her body. She didn't need permission to want. But that had always been part of Scarlet's appeal. She'd exploded into Jade's steady, measured life, alive and confident. Bold and sexy as hell.
Scarlet gave so readily, so generously, that Jade hadn't needed to ask for anything. And Dylan didn't wait for her to ask. He'd seen straight into the dark little corners of her heart, and she'd been so grateful for his demands.
Because she didn't know how to ask for what she needed.
Jade rested her forehead against Scarlet's and closed her eyes. "Sometimes I think myself in circles, trying to understand my own feelings. I can never tell what's me and what's my training. And what's both."
Scarlet hummed softly. "Trust me, I know. That's why I have to push sometimes. Because if I tell you I want something, I know you'll do it. Might not even stop to wonder if you want it, too."
Jade smiled. "That's not training. That's trust. You're the first person who ever deserved it."
"Well, then." She traced her fingers up Jade's arms to the bare upper curves of her shoulders. "I think we have someplace to be."
Not yet. Jade pulled back and met Scarlet's gaze. "If I tell you I need something, I know you'll do it. Promise me that's not all this is."
Scarlet stared back, her eyes alight with warmth. "That's not how I operate, sweetheart."
Jade laughed and gave in to the temptation to kiss those soft, smiling lips. This must be how Rachel and Ace and Cruz managed—by talking and laughing and wanting each other so much that it burned away the awkwardness.
As long as Dylan and Mad felt the same way.
Mad eyed the clock on the side table and swirled the liquor in his glass. "I told you we should have gone to them."
Dylan cut a mild look his way. "You're overthinking it. And if I'm saying so…"
As rebukes went, it was gentle. But it landed hard because Mad had overthought a lot of things in his life, but only rarely about who would be tumbling into his bed at the end of the day. Now they had circled around to a mirror image of that first night in One. Dylan was casually certain about whatever the night might bring, while Mad struggled to draw lines around what it all meant.
It had always been easy before. Crashing together, falling apart. Watching his lovers move on to people who could give them everything.
Rachel had asked him about it once, back when Ace and Cruz had still been circling each other as much as her. "What would you do?"
"I always do the same thing. Love everyone who crosses my path. Love 'em as much as I can, for as long as they need."
How clever. How blithe. What a goddamn hypocrite he was turning out to be.
Dylan's hand fell on his shoulder, soothing as much as caressing. "Does it matter why they come, as long as they do?"
"Why are you so sure they will?"
"Because they're not finished with us yet."
Mad couldn't maintain his brooding glare. A smile broke through, and he rolled his eyes. "I can't tell if that's hot or chilling."
"Both?" Dylan shrugged and finished his drink in one swallow. "It doesn't have to be sinister. Needing someone doesn't always mean forever. You give what you can, take what you can, and then it's over. We both have plenty of experience with that."
"I guess." Except Mad had never felt so much like he was battling the clock, as if the inevitable end would come before he was ready for it.
He'd never wanted to take this damn much.
A quiet knock on the door scattered his reservations. Relief surged so strongly that Mad choked it back out of instinct, forcing himself to finish his drink before slanting Dylan a teasing look. "So what do you win if you're right?"
In an instant, Dylan's expression went from mild to intense. Intent. "Everything."
Mad leaned close, until his lips almost touched Dylan's. "You're hot when you're thinking evil thoughts," he whispered, then kissed him once, hard, before rising to answer the door with the taste of liquor and Dylan still tingling on his tongue.
And of course Jade and Scarlet were on the other side, because Dylan was always right. Jade looked relaxed and sweet, her long hair bound in a loose braid, her body wrapped in a white silk robe. Scarlet was still wearing her clothes from the party—low-riding cargo pants that hugged her hips and a tiny white T-shirt that barely covered her breasts and shouldn't have bothered, not when the material was so wash-worn he could see her nipples through it anyway.
Silently, he pulled the door wide and stepped back. Jade paused on her way past to rock up on her toes and kiss his cheek. Scarlet followed, but only looked at him as she eased by, the very tip of her tongue tracing the corner of her mouth.
He wanted to lick her there, too.
As he closed the door and twisted the lock, Jade spoke. "We're going to war soon, and I'm done hiding from the things I want. I want all of you. On me and under me and in me, any way I can get you."
"For as long as she—as we can get you." There was a hint of challenge in Scarlet's voice.
Mad stepped up to her and slid a hand around her bare midriff. Her skin was warm under his fingers, as smooth and soft as her voice was strong. "Anything you need, for as long as we can give it."
She gripped his wrist and pulled his hand up, beneath the hem of that tiny T-shirt, until his fingers brushed the curve of her breast. Arousal sparked from banked embers, curling through him as he swept his thumb over the tight peak of her nipple.
Her heart was pounding beneath his hand. Dylan stood with Jade, stroking her plaited hair, and they watched as Mad eased the scrap of cotton pretending to be a T-shirt up and over Scarlet's head.
He didn't have to rush this time. He didn't have to hurry in case
this was his last chance to touch her. The clock was counting down, but at least they had more than tonight.
So he started with her hair. Bleached-blonde with a blue sheen, darker at the roots. He dragged his fingers through it to savor its silky softness, then lifted it so he could kiss the spot where her neck sloped into her shoulder.
Scarlet dropped her head back to bare her throat, her skin pale in the dim light of the room.
His room.
Something shifted inside him. In One, they'd formed a tight triangle around him, insulating him from the uncomfortable reality of all the things he'd fled. He'd been off balance, scraped raw.
Now he was whole. He was Mad.
And they were his.
He grazed Scarlet's skin with his teeth. "Are you like Jade? Do you want me on you and under you and in you?"
She smiled—slow, sensual. "Sounds about right."
Dylan cradled Jade to his chest, his hand barely resting on her chin, keeping her gaze focused on them. Her expression was serene, almost dreamy, but her eyes held the same challenging glint he'd seen just before she used her lips and tongue to shatter his self-control.
Mad held Scarlet in place with one hand and used the other to tug open her cargo pants. "What else do you want?"
She shivered. "Honestly?"
"Always, sweetheart."
Her nails scored the back of his hand. "All the shit you were holding back at your cousin's place in One."
He hadn't been holding back any more than usual. He always kept things locked down, because the stakes were so fucking high. It was easier to be a gleeful accomplice—to let Dallas use him to get Lex off, or to obey Jas's growled commands to make Noelle squirm. Because you couldn't let go and take without accepting the responsibility that came with it.
There was only one person he'd never been able to hold back with. Mad inched his fingers lower and met his eyes. The corner of Dylan's mouth gradually tilted up, and he nodded.
Let go. It wasn't just permission. It was a silent order, as well as a promise. Mad could burn as hot and volatile as he wanted, because Dylan would be there. Cool. Steely. Unshakable.
Responsible.
Mad spun Scarlet around, gripped her ass, and dragged her up his body until her mouth was level with his. The corner she'd licked before beckoned, and he traced his tongue over it before claiming her mouth with a groan.
She kissed him back, her nails running so lightly over his bare skin that it would have tickled if he hadn't been revved so high. Then, in a flash, a heartbeat, the caress sharpened. She dug her nails into the flesh over his ribs, sparking pain that left him hissing against her lips.
Yes. This was the Scarlet he'd always imagined, the one who played hard and rough and hurt him just right. He tightened his grip and ground against her, cursing himself for not getting rid of her pants first. He could be in her already, working her up and down his cock until his legs gave out and they ended up fucking fast and dirty on the floor.
The distance to the bed seemed endless, but crossing it was worth every heartbeat. He dumped Scarlet on her back and reached for her shoes. As he stripped them off, she tugged at the endless row of buttons on her pants.
Mad knocked her hands out of the way and did it himself, so intent on getting her out of those damn pants that the rest of the world might as well not exist. She reached for him again, this time locking her fingers around his wrists.
Fierce, just like he'd known she'd be. He surged over her, using her grip to drag her hands above her head. He pinned her there with a twist of his wrist, one hand holding her in place while he pulled off her pants with the other.
She fought, not to stop him but to help him. And the second he had her naked, she parted her legs and moaned in desperate invitation.
He'd discarded his shirt hours ago, and his belt with it. He nearly ripped the button from his jeans getting them open, but then the zipper yielded and his cock was free, rubbing between her perfect, eagerly parted thighs. He let go of her hands, desperate to feel her nails in his skin as he thrust into her—
"Mad."
Cool, steely command, and Mad tensed with his cock a mere inch from sliding home. His entire body shook as he lifted his head.
Dylan stood at the end of the bed, with Jade still cradled against him. Her eyes were hazy with anticipation, and her soft noise of disappointment echoed Mad's groan.
He clenched his fists in the blankets and fought for the willpower to obey. "Dylan."
His lips brushed Jade's ear, and he whispered a word almost too soft for Mad to hear. "Go." Then he released her.
She swayed for a moment, dazed, as her fingers drifted to the belt on her robe. By the time she crossed the room, the fabric was slipping from her shoulders, sliding to pool on the floor.
Jade crawled onto the bed, naked, and grasped Scarlet's hands. She kissed the inside of each wrist as she drew them back up, pinning them above her head. "I'm never as rough as she needs," Jade whispered, kissing her way to the inside of Scarlet's elbow. "Don't hold back."
Scarlet arched off the mattress. "Jade…"
"Shh." Jade kissed her temple. "Feel this moment. That's all you can do. That's all you have to do. Just feel everything we give you."
Her whole damn body was trembling. Mad rose to his knees, smoothed his hands down her body, and lifted her hips. Feeling wasn't Scarlet's problem—he knew that from how eagerly she'd fallen apart for them before. But to take pleasure passively, to let herself be vulnerable…
This was the responsibility he'd been running from. Strong, dangerous Scarlet stretched out before him, shivering beneath his touch—
And he was a fucking fool. She was worth it. She was worth anything.
He didn't even have to carry the power alone. As he stroked Scarlet's inner thigh, he looked up at Dylan, who leaned in and kissed him softly. Then he touched the small of Mad's back—lightly, not pushing him forward, not pushing him at all.
It was enough.
Mad went slow with the first thrust, just to savor her slick, clenching heat. And her expression—head thrown back, lips parted, her skin flushing when Jade held her in place even when she tried to twist free.
He spent another few moments fixing this view into his memory, from her arched body to her tousled hair. Her gorgeous breasts thrust up into the air, her nipples so mouthwateringly tight that he couldn't stop himself from leaning over her, taking one into his mouth—
She choked out his name, and it was over. He held on to the blankets and surged into her, fucking so deep she went tense before melting beneath him. She wound her legs around him, her thighs gripping his sides as he did it again, and again.
As he let go.
It wasn't sweet. She didn't want it sweet, and he'd been waiting too long to go slow. He gave her what they both needed—deep and hard, with thrusts so powerful they would have pushed her up the bed if Jade hadn't been there, holding her in place.
Dylan glided one hand up his back, his fingers digging into shifting, flexing muscle before sinking into Mad's hair. He jerked his head back, hard, the sharp pain a perfect counterpoint to how Scarlet clenched around his cock when he groaned.
Stop. That was the silent command. Panting, Mad stilled his hips, a whole new sort of agony. "Fucking hell, Dylan, what?"
His voice was low and rough, gravel and velvet. "Get up."
For a moment, temptation beckoned. Power. It sung through him and in him, the power of a warrior. A prince. He'd been born to it, bred for it. He could turn on Dylan, drag him down to the bed, and show him what it meant to belong to a prince.
He could show them all what it meant to belong to a Rios.
So tempting—and so fucking wrong. His grandfather's hunger for control was his Rios legacy, and Mad could not give into it. Would not. Snarling, he rose to his knees and let Dylan scatter kisses over his shoulder, his chest, down to his stomach.
The first touch of Dylan's tongue on his cock rocketed through him. He swore, tangling his finge
rs in Dylan's hair as the other man swallowed him, sucking him fast and deep—but in perfect, controlled movements.
"Look at them," Jade said hoarsely, her fingers still twined with Scarlet's. "They're beautiful."
"Beautiful," Scarlet echoed. "And they're ours."
"Yeah, we— Fuck." Mad's words died when Dylan did something with his tongue that blurred his vision, had him jerking forward hard enough to choke.
Dylan pulled away. Instead of rising, he turned his attention—and that hot, open mouth—to Scarlet. She threw her head back and pulled against Jade's grip on her wrists, but she didn't twist away. She arched her hips toward him, toward his eager lips and clever tongue.
"I know," Mad whispered, stroking his knuckles up her trembling inner thigh. "I know how hot his mouth is. So much pleasure it hurts, because he's methodical." His hand grazed Dylan's chin, and Mad edged past it, teasing her with the tip of his finger. "Relentless."
She whimpered, and Dylan lifted his head only to close his teeth on Mad's arm in a searing, savage bite.
Rough. Nothing held back.
Mad shuddered and gripped Scarlet's hips. "Let her go, Jade."
She obeyed at once, and Mad flipped Scarlet over. He didn't give her a chance to find her balance, just hauled her hips up and shoved her knees wide with his own. Her back formed a perfect, tempting bow, even sharper when he caught her hair in one fist and drew her head back. "Is this what you want?"
"Adri—" The word cut off with a noise that was half moan, half sigh. "Yes."
He drove into her. Deeper this time, pushing forward until his hips ground against her ass. He released her hair and planted his hand between her shoulder blades instead, pinning her in place for his first hard thrust, and she rewarded him with a muffled shriek as she clenched her hands in the sheets.
So he did it again. And again. And this time Dylan didn't stop him from riding her until her cries melded together into a hoarse, helpless moan. Didn't stop him from sliding a hand from her hip to her pussy, where she was so damn wet his fingers slipped over her clit.