by Kit Rocha
It was the way Dylan looked at Scarlet and found hope. The way Scarlet's music brought Mad peace. The way Mad loved all three of them so fiercely, so brightly, you could almost believe he really was touched by a higher power.
It was all of them, together. And she could hold Mad close and stroke his hair while Scarlet sang him to sleep, but they wouldn't be complete. They wouldn't be whole.
Not without Dylan.
Dylan couldn't remember the last time he cried.
Probably when he was a boy, denied something by his parents for reasons no childish brain could ever fathom. A punishment, perhaps, or because he wanted something they couldn't afford.
It wasn't uncommon. Both of his parents had jobs—his mother cleaned wealthy people's homes, and his father sold gloves and boots at an upscale shop in the city center—but there never seemed to be enough money. They never went hungry, but they went without plenty of other, less important things.
It wasn't until he was older that he realized how much his parents spent on his education. Between school fees and the bribes necessary to get him into the right classes, the sum was astronomical. But they'd been obsessively determined that he would grow up to do more, to be more.
He climbed the stairs toward the room where Scarlet and Jade waited. Mad was probably there by now, too, because following instructions was unthinkable to him. The thought of the nurses trying to keep him contained brought a smile to Dylan's face as he stopped in front of the bedroom door.
And stood there, his hand hovering over the knob, his eyes dry and burning.
During his school breaks, his mother would take him to work with her. Never when her employers were home, of course, and he had to be very careful not to touch anything. He'd sit, just so, on a pristine white sofa or chair and look around, fascinated by his luxurious surroundings. By the artwork, by the technology, by all the things those people had.
And when the novelty of those beautiful apartments wore off, he'd read a novel or work ahead in his textbooks. Sometimes, he'd stare at his mother as she worked—particularly her hands, red and raw from the harsh chemicals she used. The ones she never let him touch, even when he tried to help her.
He remembered one sunny, clear day—standing at the window of a high-rise apartment, looking out over the city and the sectors beyond. That high, he could even see the desert, ringing the whole thing in arid shades of brown.
His mother had come up behind him, laid her hand on his shoulder, and made a soft, satisfied noise. "One day, Dylan. It can be yours, as much of it as you want."
He'd failed her. In so many ways, and finally in that, because he never amassed the fortune they planned for him. He wanted no part of the city. He'd walked away from it all, and everything he wanted, everything, was behind this door.
He opened it.
They were on the bed. Mad and Scarlet were tangled together, sleeping, and Jade sat with her back against the headboard, her fingers stroking idly through Mad's hair.
Her eyes met his. Her fingers stilled. She extended her other hand, reaching for him in quiet invitation.
He kicked off his shoes and slid onto the bed, curling as close to her as he could, wrapping himself damn near around her. The contact eased some of the tightness in his chest, and he managed a deep breath. "Gideon's going to make it. I held him together long enough for the regen tech—for Kora—to help him."
She slipped her arms around him and brushed a kiss to his forehead. "I knew you would."
Her faith in him was heartwarming, but she had no idea how close a call it had been. "He was barely hanging on when I got here, Jade. He almost died."
"People die sometimes." She cupped his cheek and forced him to look at her. "But when you're around—"
"I'm not doubting my abilities." He lowered his voice. "I'm saying Gideon nearly died, but Mad—Mad's the one we almost lost. He would have had to stay here, and it's not like your work in Two. You know it isn't. It's different for him."
Jade watched him forever, her thumb gliding back and forth across his cheek. Then she nodded. "Yes, it's different for him here. But that doesn't mean we almost lost him, Dylan, or that we will lose him if something happens to Gideon. He'll have to decide what he can live with doing and not doing, and we'll have to help him...but the sector lines are blurring. He doesn't have to stay, and we don't have to go."
"Maybe you're right." He and Mad had left things unsettled, perhaps even broken between them, but for Jade—for Scarlet—
"I know I am." Jade stroked his cheek again with a soft smile. "The only way we lose one another is if we stop coming back after we argue, because we're going to argue. Too many important things are happening to avoid that."
He closed his eyes. "You don't know what I said to him, Jade. It was unforgivable. The only reason Scarlet's still speaking to me is that heart of hers."
"And you think Mad's is any smaller?"
"Hell, no. But I think I can hurt him more." He hesitated. "Scarlet never wanted to love me."
"But she does, Dylan." Her lips touched his, her whisper almost a kiss. "It's scary, trying to feel worthy of hearts that big. But we owe it to them to do our best, because they love us."
"We can hear you, you know," Scarlet murmured, her voice husky with sleep.
"Shh," Jade replied, but her lips curved against Dylan's. "Or you won't hear all the other good stuff I was about to say about you."
A hand slid over Dylan's, prompting him to open his eyes. It was Mad's hand, warm and reassuring as he twined their fingers together. "You better be getting to the part about my badass rescue."
Scarlet propped up on one arm, just enough to peer up at Dylan over the bulk of Mad's body. "Nah, I think Dylan was getting to the part where he's sorry for what he said to you."
"I am sorry." He could barely choke out the words. "You don't know how hard I wish I could take it back."
"Don't." The mattress dipped as Mad rose to his knees and crawled up behind Dylan. He settled there, dragging Dylan back against his chest, one hand coming around to rest over his heart. "It hurt, but I needed it to. I needed to wonder if it was true."
Now it was Dylan's turn, even if Mad didn't realize it. He braced himself for their shock, their pity, and reached for the words. "My father worked in a shop that sold handmade shoes and belts. The owner bought them from artisans in the sectors and communes and told his customers they'd been imported from places like London and Milan." He tried to laugh, but what came out sounded more like a sigh. "He made a fortune, and my father died at forty-eight. Heart attack. The kind of thing that modern medicine is supposed to prevent—assuming you can afford access to it, I mean."
Jade's brow furrowed. "Who?" she asked in a chilly, dangerous voice that hearkened immediate financial ruin for his father's former boss.
"Oh, it's too late for that, love." His reassuring smile felt more like a grimace. "It was my first stop on my way out of the city." He'd strangled the man with a very nice tie, one stitched with the label Crafted in Paris that had probably been made in the wilds beyond Sector Eight.
Scarlet slid closer. "Dylan—"
"My mother," he interrupted, "was a sadder story. She was a maid, the kind who cleaned for people who couldn't quite afford proper housekeepers. When Dad died, she tripled her workload. She was exhausted all the time. I guess that's why she didn't realize she was sick until it was too late."
Mad spread his fingers wide on Dylan's chest, as if sheltering his heart. "How old were you?"
"Twenty-four. I'd just finished my medical training. She—" His throat closed suddenly, and his eyes burned worse than ever. "She didn't tell me anything was wrong, didn't ask me for help. She didn't want to disrupt my studies."
Jade was the one who knew enough of Eden to understand. "Because she'd worked so hard to give you that chance."
"By then, it didn't matter how many favors I called in. No one could help her." Everything hurt—pins and needles, like warming up after being terribly cold. "I didn't
know what to do with myself at first, so I kept working. Then, after a few years, it got to the point where I was… I was glad they were dead. It meant they'd never have to find out what kind of miserable, hellish life they'd bought for me."
Jade slid her hand over Mad's, her fingers slipping between his to press against Dylan's chest. "That's how Eden's built, sweetheart. To keep people in their place. The rich built a wall around their world, and your parents slipped you through an impossible crack. They couldn't have known what was on the other side. That's why the wall is there."
She was right, and he hated that fucking wall. Everyone saw the one separating the city from the sectors, but no one ever saw the invisible one inside, the one erected by the rich and privileged to ensure that what was theirs remained theirs. It was an intangible barrier, but it might as well have been stone, three solid feet thick.
"My parents didn't know," he agreed hoarsely. "I understand that now, and it's better. I don't have to hate them anymore."
Scarlet sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her face was hot against his, and he tasted her tears on his lips. "I love you," she whispered. "You've endured so much, and you haven't let it crush how much you care."
He couldn't have stopped caring entirely, not about a world with people like her and Jade and Mad in it. And he could finally give voice to all the things he'd wanted to tell her the previous night. "I love you because you don't know how to say something's impossible. You just stare at it until you figure out how to make it happen."
Jade leaned into his side and kissed his cheek. "She made us happen. All of us."
The gentle caress combined with Scarlet's mouth on his twisted the relief at sharing his story into something else, no less desperate but hungrier. Immediate.
He held on to Scarlet as he rose from the bed, then turned and laid her on it, bent over her, his lips still fused to hers.
As she returned his kiss, Mad stroked his back, his shoulders, slipped his fingers down and under Dylan's shirt in a feather-soft caress up his spine. "Let her love you, Dylan."
Jade sank her fingers into Dylan's hair. "Let us all love you."
For the first time in his entire lonely, fucked-up life, he said yes.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Yes.
The word was still vibrating against Scarlet's lips, a heady buzz of desire and acceptance, when Mad slid his hands between them and hauled Dylan upright. Over his shoulder, Mad smiled down at Scarlet, his gaze almost feverish. "You heard her, lover. This time you have to let us love you."
Dylan sucked in a sharp breath and trembled in his embrace. "You want me to do nothing?"
"I want you to feel this. I want you to wonder what Jade will do to you when she can do anything she wants." Mad's clever fingers danced down the buttons on Dylan's shirt before dragging the fabric back—and his arms with it. "I want you to wonder if Jade won't do anything until Scarlet makes her, because then we'll all get off, won't we?"
Control. Dylan needed it so much—but Mad was finally ready to take it. Scarlet licked her lips, sat up, and brushed a quick kiss over the center of Dylan's chest. "What do you have in mind?"
Mad buried his fingers in Dylan's hair and pulled his head back. Jade leaned in as if summoned, dropping soft kisses to Dylan's throat as Mad sought Scarlet's gaze.
She recognized the look there. She'd seen it before, the moment before Mad had upended her world and seized control from her. Dark, bottomless hunger, a challenge—not to fight against him this time, but with him.
She ducked her head to hide her smile and toyed with the buckle on Dylan's belt. "Will you need this?" she asked innocently.
"Maybe," Mad rumbled, his mouth against Dylan's ear. "I don't know if I trust him not to touch you."
Dylan's head fell back again, this time of his own volition, and his strong throat worked as he bit off a groan. "Fuck. Keep talking."
And say what? The words were on the tip of Scarlet's tongue, and she chased them away by licking a slow path from his navel up to his sternum. "You can't do it, can you? Just turn it off and let us fuck you?"
He looked down at her, his eyes burning with banked lust, and Scarlet had never wanted anything more than to stoke that fire to life and let it burn all four of them to the ground.
She unbuckled his belt. Jade clasped one end of it and tugged, dragging it free of one belt loop after another with methodical patience. When it slipped from the last one, she folded the leather in half and traced it down Dylan's arm. "This is what you need, isn't it? To be set free, even if it's only for tonight. To know we want you for more than making sure we all get off."
He shuddered.
Jade leaned closer, her lips tracing over his shoulder. "It's okay to want that. Because you wouldn't give it to just anyone, would you?"
For some reason, that made him laugh, though the sound was muffled, crushed, when he dipped his head and caught her mouth with his. Mad let him, releasing Dylan's hair to take the belt from Jade. His gaze found Scarlet's again, warm and lazy as he stripped Dylan's shirt away and bound the man's arms behind him with his own belt.
Dylan's cock strained the fabric of his pants. Scarlet freed him carefully, then gripped the base of his shaft, relishing his deep groan. "Jade, sweetheart?" she purred. "I need to borrow your tongue."
She broke from Dylan's kiss with a soft sigh before turning to lean into Scarlet. She nuzzled her cheek, her ear, dropping slow kisses all along her jaw to the corner of her mouth. "What should I do with it?"
Scarlet slid one hand into Jade's unbound hair and twisted it tight. "You can tease him, but not me. Not yet."
Mad hummed his agreement as he wrapped an arm around Dylan's body and traced his fingers down. "Let me hear the magic word, Jade. Let him hear it. What are you willing to do to get him off? What should we make you do?"
A tremor rocked Jade. Mad's words were darkly demanding, promising an unyielding dominance he'd always held back. She licked her lips and fought Scarlet's hold on her hair. "Anything."
"You hear that, Dylan?" Mad closed his fingers over Scarlet's, where they still gripped the base of Dylan's cock. "She'll do anything."
"Jesus Christ." His muscles flexed as he strained against the leather binding his wrists. "Please."
Scarlet let go and bent her head, meeting Jade's open mouth right at the tip of Dylan's cock for a leisurely, wet kiss. Jade moaned, her tongue gliding around the crown and then into Scarlet's mouth, carrying the taste of him with her. Then she returned to Dylan, working her way obediently down to Mad's fingers with slow, careful licks that left his cock glistening.
Even in obedience, she was teasing him. Because Scarlet had said tongue, that was all she'd give him.
Unless Scarlet made her.
She bit Jade's earlobe and placed her hand on the back of her head. She nudged her forward—gently, giving her plenty of time to open and take his cock.
Dylan wasn't the only one who groaned as Jade's lips slid slowly down his shaft. Mad growled and scraped his nails across Dylan's chest. "Look at her. Getting her mouth around your dick gets her so hot, she's shaking. That's how much she wants your pleasure."
"Deeper—"
"Uh-uh." Mad nipped at Dylan's ear as his fingers drifted up to settle on Dylan's throat in a light, warning grip. "You can beg all you want, but we're not going to rush her, not when she's having so much fun. And you are, sweetheart, aren't you?"
Jade hummed in agreement, and Dylan jerked. Mad made a noise low in his throat. "You should show him how wet this is getting her, Scarlet. Let him see it. Or taste it."
The belt on Jade's delicate silk robe had loosened, and the sensuous white fabric clung to her curves like a lover's hands, revealing as much as it concealed—the slopes of her breasts and hips, the tight pucker of her nipples.
Scarlet didn't pull it free. Instead, she eased her hand beneath the silk, biting her lip when she encountered the wet heat slicking Jade's inner thighs. "You have no idea," she breathed, t
hen edged her hand higher, until her fingers brushed the outer lips of Jade's pussy. "No fucking idea."
Jade shuddered under her touch and lifted her head. "He always stops me before he comes. He holds back."
"To take care of our pleasure." With one hand still collaring Dylan's throat, Mad used the other to slowly stroke the man's cock. "Tell her what you want, Dylan. What you need."
His chest heaved. "I want—"
Scarlet cut him off by shoving her wet fingers between his lips. He growled and bit her, then held her gaze as he licked each one.
"You filthy fucker." Mad touched Dylan's chin, tilting his head back. His tongue joined Dylan's, slipping over her fingers before she pulled them away and left the two of them in the hottest kiss she'd ever seen—mouths fused together, Mad swallowing Dylan's moan as Jade returned to her task with renewed eagerness.
Scarlet eased the front of Jade's robe open, baring her breasts. She cupped them, pushing them together, pinching her nipples between her fingers until Jade released Dylan and threw her head back.
And Mad understood. He knew—damn him, bless him—without a word every dirty, delicious carnal thought that popped into Scarlet's head almost as soon as she did. So he guided Dylan's cock, thrusting it between Jade's luscious, ready breasts.
Dylan gasped. Jade did too, arching her back. Scarlet gripped Dylan's hips, urging him on, but Mad was already there, grinding against his ass, guiding his thrusts as he murmured obscene encouragement. "See what you taught me, Dylan? To listen instead of assuming. Sweet, pretty Jade wants dirty, dirty things, doesn't she?"
"Yes," Jade moaned, squirming in Scarlet's grasp, because even having Mad acknowledge it triggered wild arousal. "I want to fuck. I want to fuck all of you."
Leather creaked as Dylan fought his restraints, and the muscles in his stomach and hips flexed as he drove forward, gliding his cock so far between Jade's breasts that the head nearly brushed her chin.