by Katee Robert
He gives that shrug that means everything and nothing and starts unloading the bags on the coffee table. “We’ve got it covered.”
“No, you don’t.” She shakes her head. “But you aren’t going to listen to me.”
“We have it covered,” I say softly.
Tink gives me one last squeeze and steps back. “You are my friend, and I care about you, but if you don’t figure this out, it’s going to rip you to pieces.”
“Tink,” Hook sinks enough warning in her name that her eyes flash in response. He moves to secure her stuff on the wardrobe rack and pushes it toward the elevator. Hook pauses in front of me. “Be careful.”
I don’t know what to say to that. I appreciate their concern, but I’ve gone too far to turn back now. One way or another, we’re seeing this through to the end. “Thanks for the help.”
“We’re friends.” He shrugs, and then gives me a bright grin. “And don’t thank me until you’ve seen my wife’s bill.” The way he says wife speaks volumes, and I have to stifle a surge of jealousy. Even when he and Tink were dancing around each other, there was only the two of them figuring things out. Hook never had to compete for her heart, and he sure as fuck didn’t have to compete with someone as perfect as Beast.
We wait until they leave to go looking for Isabelle. I’m not at all surprised to find her curled up in my bed, but the sight still rocks me back on my heels. It feels so fucking fleeting, a dream I’m afraid to sink into for fear that I’ll wake up alone.
“You’re up,” Beast murmurs and shifts past me to haul the bags into the bathroom.
I don’t know if I should appreciate his bowing out of this moment or be suspicious because he’s so confident that he’s not greedy for every second of experience with her. In the end, it doesn’t matter. I kick off my shoes and climb onto the bed to settle next to her. She’s not under the comforter; instead, she’s wrapped up in one of the throw blankets from the living room. I trace my finger down her temple and over her jaw. “Isabelle.”
Her eyes flutter open, and the happiness I find there takes my breath away. She smiles and stretches like a cat. “Hi.”
“Hey.”
Isabelle wiggles closer, tucking herself against me, and my heart gives a dull thud as I pull her into my arms. This isn’t forever, but my goddamn fucking chest isn’t listening. It feels so right to hold her like this while she surfaces from her nap.
She nuzzles my chest. “Tink is scary.”
That surprises a chuckle out of me. “Yeah, she’s definitely that.” She’s also become one of my closest friends over the last year. She caught me in the midst of my spiral after losing Isabelle, and kicked my ass until I figured my shit out.
“You know she would have gotten me out if I asked? I thought she was your friend.”
“She is.” It should piss me off that Tink would go around me like that, but it feels strangely good. There was a time when she wouldn’t have even considered making that offer. “But just because she’s my friend, doesn’t mean she’s giving me carte blanche to act like a monster.”
“You’re not a monster.” She wraps her arms around me and hitches a leg over my hip. It’s not sexual, exactly; more like she wants to be as close as she possibly can be. “You do monstrous things sometimes, but you’re not a monster. Neither of you are.”
There it is again. The reminder that I’ll never be her one and only. I tense, waiting for the slap of pain that knowledge always brings, but there’s only a settling deep inside me. I don’t know what it means. Maybe I’m just resigned to the truth now.
She leans back enough to meet my gaze. “Gaeton, I—”
Something akin to panic shorts out my brain at the possibilities of what she might say next. “We got all the shit on Tink’s list, and Hook made dinner. Figure we should eat and then get ready. Glad you got a nap, since tonight’s going to be a long one. Let’s eat and get moving.”
A small furrow appears between her brows, but she finally nods. “Okay.”
When I agreed to this, I didn’t think for a second that I would win. Even with all the truths coming out to play, my opinion hasn’t changed. Why would she choose me when she can have him? Beast might make me want to punch a hole in a wall half the time, but he’s a brilliant general and an even better Dom. Now that he’s off his leash, I can’t imagine a scenario where Isabelle chooses me over him. I just don’t see it.
Fuck, I’m not sure I would choose me over him.
I climb out of bed before that knowledge sinks beneath my skin and tears me down. We have this time. It has to be enough. I have to be okay with watching them fall back in love, with knowing that there’s no way Beast will let her go again, with living the rest of my life almost within touching distance of the future I want more than anything.
I don’t know what Beast sees on my face when we walk into the main room, but he frowns. “We’ll talk after dinner, while Isabelle gets ready.”
It should be as simple as planning out the kink for the night, but one of the downsides of working with an excellent Dom is that they’re equally excellent at reading people. We have to be during a scene. Communication is vital to everyone having a good time, but it’s also vital to be able to course correct if a submissive isn’t one hundred percent there with you and isn’t able or willing to spell it out.
I really don’t like being the submissive in this scenario.
Dinner is a subdued event. The food is amazing, but then Hook always had a knack for putting together a meal. I still circle around to his and Tink’s place once every couple of weeks for dinner and some friendly fucking. If Isabelle chooses me, that’s out of the question for obvious reasons.
If she doesn’t choose me, I’m going to need Hook and Tink more than ever.
I’m a morose fucker tonight, but I can’t shake the feeling adding weight to my skin. Even with all the emotional bullshit to wade through, it’s too good with Isabelle and Beast. It doesn’t feel like getting her out of my system. In fact, it’s the exact opposite. It feels like I’ve invited him in, too, like both these people are digging deep enough to rip me to shreds when this pact reaches its inevitable conclusion.
I start in on dishes because I need to keep my hands busy. It doesn’t do a damn thing to help my spiraling thoughts, but it’s still better than sitting still. No matter how intently I try to distract myself, I’m still aware of Isabelle padding into my bedroom and the shower turning on. I’m equally aware of Beast taking up a position at my back, leaning against the counter across from the sink.
I brace, but he doesn’t start in on me the way I expect. Instead, he lets loose a nearly soundless sigh and grabs a towel from the drawer. “You wash, I’ll dry.”
No point in arguing. It’s not one I’ll win, and while there are times when the act of fighting is enough, tonight isn’t one of them. We wash and dry the dishes, and with his help, it takes far less time than I’d like. Then there’s nothing to do but turn to face him.
I study his expression, but there’s no evidence that he’s feeling anywhere near as conflicted as I am. “This was a mistake.”
“Was it?”
“Don’t do that.”
He raises his brows. “Don’t do what?”
“Don’t act like this is such a simple situation.” I haven’t had the urge to punch that perfect face in longer than I care to admit, but I kind of want to punch him right now. “She didn’t reject you before. Fuck, she’s so wrapped up in you, she can’t see straight. So forgive me if I’m not exactly elated to know that at the end of this, I’ll be the one left hanging in the wind.”
I expect him to gloat a little. To confirm what I’ve seen with my own two eyes. Fuck, maybe even to laugh a little in that dry way of his.
Instead he stares at me like he wants to shake some sense into me. “You think she didn’t reject me? We didn’t last a month after you walked away. Even when we weren’t a true triad, we didn’t work without you there to balance us.”
“We aren’t a true triad, Beast. That’s the whole fucking point.”
He opens his mouth, but seems to change his mind at last minute. “You’re borrowing trouble and it’s going to drag down the rest of our time together if you’re determined to be so focused on the end.”
Why is he being so intentionally naive? It’s not a word I would have dreamed to apply to this man, but there’s no other way to describe it. He’s too smart to believe the shit he’s spewing. “It’s not like it’s a year-long pact, Beast. It’s fewer than two weeks. The end is already in sight. It was the second we agreed to this.”
His jaw goes hard. “Will you or will not you not honor it?”
I draw myself up, ready to fight if only to expel this poisonous feeling worming through my chest and stomach. “Maybe I should make it easy and walk right now. Clear the way for you.”
Beast steps to me, getting right in my face despite the difference in our heights. “I thought you loved Isabelle.”
“I do. I did.”
His eyes freeze over and his voice gains a cruel edge. “Some marriage you would have given her if you’re ready to run scared at the first sign of trouble. Did you really want forever, or did you just want the prize?”
“Fuck you.”
He lowers his voice. “Get your head in the game, Gaeton. This isn’t about just us anymore, and you being all up in your feelings is going to get someone killed. It’s going to get Isabelle killed.”
Low blow to throw that in my face, but he’s not wrong. I drag my hand through my hair. “How is this not fucking you up, too?”
“How is what not fucking me up?”
“Don’t play coy, Beast. You know what is. The pact. Us. All of it.”
“Us …” He carefully places his hands on the counter on either side of me, his expression going predatory in a way that makes my stomach leap. “Did you ever think about it before?”
That pulls me up short. “What are you talking about?” I should know better at this point. Beast never comes at a confrontation head-on. He prefers to flank his opponent, to catch them flat-footed. The reminder that I’m the opponent feels like a slap in the face.
“Us.” He doesn’t wait for me to catch up, just keeps talking in that measured way of his. “I lied when I told you what my fantasy was.”
“Yeah, I know.” I’d wondered about it at the time, but was too tired to press the issue. “Why bring it up now?”
Beast closes the last bit of distance between us, bringing us chest to chest. My instincts get all tangled up. I can’t tell if we’re about to fight or fuck, and I freeze. He leans up and his teeth graze my jaw in a nip. “You’re not being honest with either of us, Gaeton.”
“Obviously neither of us are,” I grind out. “What are you talking about, specifically?”
“Do you remember that afternoon?” He keeps going even as my mind tries to flicker away what I know he’s talking about. “You were in Isabelle’s bed, and she was riding your cock. The sunlight bathed your skin golden and she was so wet, I could hear it from the door.”
Just like that, I’m back in that memory I’ve shoved down deep. Isabelle’s pussy clamped tight around my cock, her tits bouncing a little with each thrust, her eyes closed as she rides me. A movement behind her as the door slides soundlessly open. My gaze snagging Beast’s across the distance and, for the first time, not seeing loathing reflected there. Only desire.
It wasn’t aimed solely at Isabelle, either.
I draw in a ragged breath. “Yeah, I remember.”
“We pretended it never happened. Never spoke of it.” He presses his hips to mine, demonstrating that he’s just as turned on by the memory as I am. “In my fantasy, I walked in. Stripped. Joined you both in that bed. I punished you for getting started without me, and then we all fucked until we exhausted ourselves.”
The air in the room has gone hot and sticky. I can’t seem to inhale fully. “You never said anything.”
“Neither did you.” He leans back just enough to hold my gaze. “Do you trust me, Gaeton?”
A few days ago, I would have shot back a negative answer. It wouldn’t have been the full truth, not when I trusted this man over and over again through the years to watch my back and keep our people safe. Even when we were at each other’s throats, he never hesitated to ensure I came home every night, no matter how dangerous a mission or task we were sent out on.
My heart wasn’t on the line then. It is now.
It’s possible that this is all part of some deeper plan to fuck me over, that Beast wants me off my game so he can walk with Isabelle at the end of this. But… I don’t think so. We’re in unmarked territory, but for the first time since I agreed to this pact, I don’t feel like I’m walking this strange path alone. “Yes.”
“Good.” He gives me a faint smile. “One last question. Do you want to walk through our plans for tonight together or do you want me to handle it?”
“Together.” I exhale slowly. “Let’s figure it out together.”
Chapter 19
Isabelle
It feels so good to get ready with a full array of hair products and makeup; like I’m reclaiming part of myself that I haven’t been on speaking terms with for the last forty-eight hours. I’m not delusional enough to think it will affect the power balance, but it makes me feel steadier all the same. The woman looking back at me in the mirror is still in over her head, but at least she looks good while she drowns.
My phone pings as I finish touching up my lipstick. I almost don’t want to look at it. Undoubtedly, it’s one of my sisters, and neither option sounds appealing right now. Cordelia will demand to know where I am so she can retrieve me. She’s got the makings of being as good a leader as our father, but she’s not rational when it comes to the people she loves. It doesn’t matter that we need Beast and Gaeton back; she thinks I’ve sold myself for their loyalty and my being hurt by that choice is something she can’t abide by.
Father never would have let it get this far.
I close my eyes and concentrate on breathing slowly until the burning behind my eyelids passes. It doesn’t matter what Father would or would not have done. He’s gone, and the responsibility that he seemed to shoulder with such ease has fallen to us. Cordelia needs her head in the game, and I cannot fail in bringing these men back into the fold. Lives depend on it.
Easier to focus on that purpose than the conflicted feelings inside me. If the last two days have taught me anything, it’s that I never stopped loving Gaeton and Beast. Worse in some ways, now that we’ve forcibly torn down the film of niceness that coated our past relationships, I love them more. Something I didn’t think was possible. Suffice to say it’s an inconvenient truth. There is no walking away from this unbloodied. I check my phone before I can procrastinate further.
Sienna: Check your email and get the answers back to me ASAP.
Me: You know, algorithms aren’t the answer to everything.
Sienna: Do you have a better option?
Me: …
Sienna: I didn’t think so. Answer the questions and I’ll get the program put together.
I don’t exactly have a high horse to stand on for this situation. Her algorithm sounds like a terrible idea, but so does a two-week sex pact. I open my email and find the shared document she wants me to fill out. I hold my breath and click through. The questions are both what I expect, and not what I expect. Everything from the ability to give a dual orgasm to cuddling to whether or not they leave their laundry in a pile on the floor or put it away immediately. I’m a little impressed at her thoroughness despite myself.
I glance at the time and perch on the edge of the tub to fill out the answers. It’s weirdly nostalgic to type them out, a reminder of a time when things weren’t exactly simpler, but there wasn’t a deadline hanging over my head. Answering these questions brings up memories I haven’t allowed myself to think of since my respective relationships ended.
Like how Beast had a knack for showing up
when I least expected it with a sweet treat or a cup of coffee. Or the one time I came back to my room after a long day dealing with my sisters and found that he’d cleaned it so every surface practically shone. He didn’t always use words to tell me how he felt about me, but he spoke through his actions time and time again.
And Gaeton? He was always, always willing to try anything I was into, whether it was to listen to a book I was reading on audio or to marathon a show I wanted to try out. We could laugh and giggle and sing in the car like goofs and I never felt like I had to be cool and collected in order for him to want me.
Even when we weren’t communicating our deeper needs, it was so good being with them in other ways. I swallow hard. Just answer the questions and move on. I finish quickly enough and send a text letting her know. I still don’t think an algorithm will help me decide things, but Sienna won’t leave it alone and, honestly, it can’t hurt.
Then there’s nothing to do but get dressed. Tink left me three dresses to choose from and I run my hands over one after the other. Black and a deep purple and a cheery yellow. I touch the yellow. Another time. The black is a better option, though it’s something more in-your-face sexy than I’ve ever worn in public.
I carefully pull it on. The fabric fits like a second skin, making it impossible to wear anything under it, an asymmetrical cut that is long sleeved on one side and sleeveless on the other. It featured two cut-outs, one a deep diamond between my breasts, the other a circle right at the curve of my waist that leaves half my hip exposed. It’s not exactly indecent, but it’s the kind of dress that makes one think of easy access and fucking. The fact that it hits the top of my knees does nothing to combat how naked I feel; more naked than when I actually was naked.
I take another deep breath and shake out my hair, giving it a little extra toss for volume. I look like a sex kitten, like the dirty little slut I play for these men.
I … like it.