by Sadie Moss
She looks like an avenging angel in this moment, like she might be capable of taking down Salinas and Anderson and their entire army with just her rage and her sword. Like she might take us out afterward.
“You’re wrong! You’re lying!” Her eyes flash, her hands shaking as she points a finger at Beck. “It’s not that you can’t. You won’t.” Her wings droop, and her voice drops to a whisper—a broken, pained sound. “You won’t.”
With a soft sob, she turns and shoves her way between Nix and Sawyer, darting toward the stairs that lead up to the second floor. Her wings, which a moment ago flared so majestically behind her, droop like broken butterflies as she disappears up the stairs.
A sudden silence fills the room. The atmosphere seems to have thinned. It’s as if the angel is oxygen, and her absence has left us with nothing to breathe.
I glance around at my brothers, who all look stunned.
“She loves us,” Nix murmurs, reaching up to rub at his chest. I don’t think he even knows he’s doing it. “She fucking loves us.”
He sounds surprised by that, but I’m not. I’ve seen it happening, observed each small step in her journey as she’s gotten to know and care for my brothers. Maybe even for me.
What I didn’t see happening, what I couldn’t admit to myself until this moment, is how deeply I’ve come to care for her too. I pride myself in controlling my emotions, and I thought I had managed to do it. But I didn’t realize that although I maintained my mask of control and cool power, things were shifting inside me.
That night when I told Beckett to fuck her, when I watched, burning with need but refusing to give in to it—I thought that meant the walls around my heart were still intact.
But in that moment, whether I touched her or not, Trinity got under my skin just as much as she did with my brothers.
What do we do now? Knight glances around at the rest of us, his face creased with concern.
I know what I need to do.
And it won’t be fucking easy.
There’s a temptation to just forge ahead despite Trinity’s desperate pleas. She can’t stop us, after all. There are seven of us and only one of her. But I pride myself in learning from my mistakes, and I can tell in this moment that I’m standing at a crossroads. Two different possible futures stretch out before me, and it’s my choice whether I take the path that severs the bonds between us and Trinity or the path that at least attempts to preserve them.
It’s hardly a choice at all, really.
Catching Beckett’s gaze, I jerk my head toward the staircase where Trinity fled.
He nods, then flicks a glance at the others. “We’ll go talk to her. Do what you can to dig up a clue about the ‘nuclear option’ Salinas talked about. We need to know what he’s planning if we want to stop him.”
Everyone nods, although I have a feeling little will be accomplished. They all look dazed and shell-shocked, as if their entire world has been rocked to its core.
Beckett and I step away from them, heading up the stairs together. His mouth is a thin, straight line, his expression serious and determined when I stop at the second-floor landing and turn to him. Pride tightens my throat for a moment. I’ve spent years resenting Beckett, blaming him, and refusing to budge or let go of old anger.
To let go of it now feels like a defeat, and everything in me rebels at that.
But there are other ways for pride to manifest beyond stubbornness and refusal to bend. In this moment, becoming a man I can be proud of requires me to do something that’s never come naturally to me.
It requires me to admit I was wrong.
“I won’t lose her, Beck,” I say quietly, holding his gaze. “Not like we lost Scarlett. I won’t make the same mistakes.”
His eyebrows twitch, the only indication of his surprise. Then he nods slowly. “I won’t lose her either. And I won’t repeat my mistakes.”
It’s not exactly an apology from either one of us, but it feels like an understanding. And with Pride and Greed, that’s about as good as it gets.
“Good.” One corner of my lip lifts slightly as I incline my chin down the hallway on the second floor. “Then let’s go get our girl.”
Chapter Nineteen
TRINITY
I just choose a random bedroom, one of the ones on the second floor, and sink onto the bed. I’m crying so hard that there’s snot on my face. I need tissues, my eyes are puffy, and all-in-all, I just feel absolutely shitty.
There are so many emotions running through me that I don’t know what to do with them. I’ve never cried this hard before, not even when my favorite characters have died on television shows, and it’s not because I’m sad—or at least, not only because of that. I’m just feeling so much, and I don’t know what to do with all of it. I can’t possibly hold it all in. No wonder humans are so emotional and irrational all the time.
How can they stand to be like this? How can they possibly control it?
The door opens and I sit up, lunging for the box of tissues that sit on the bedside table so I can blow my nose and wipe at my eyes. Beckett and Ryland stride in like they own the place—which they kind of do, I guess—closing the door behind them.
“How could you do this?” I demand, hurling the tissues to the floor and springing to my feet. “You’re the leaders, you’re the ones in charge! They listen to you. And because of you, they’re going to charge into battle. They’re going to die, one way or another. Either Salinas and Anderson’s forces will find a way to kill them, or they’ll be redeemed and cease to exist.”
“Maybe.” Beck’s voice is quiet, his green eyes serious as he regards me.
“How can you let that happen?” I explode. “I thought you loved them! Please, they’ll listen to you if you tell them that we’re not going. You chose this and so they’re choosing this too—because they look up to the two of you. It’s true, whether you want to admit it or not! And you know it too. You know it, and you’re leading them into this anyway!”
Beckett strides forward, reaching out for me, but I shove at his chest. “No. Don’t touch me. Don’t try to tell me it’ll all be okay when it won’t.”
Ryland approaches, but he comes around from the other side, so quiet that at first I don’t even realize he’s there—not until I take a step back from Beckett and bump into him.
I whip around to glare at his perfect, chiseled face. “That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair,” he shoots back.
“Is that what you tell the people you beat in court?”
“Maybe. On occasion.” One corner of his mouth tilts up a little.
I fold my arms. “Neither of you is going to convince me that this is going to work out okay. I almost lost you all—I thought I had lost you all—and I’m not going to go through that again.”
“You’re acting as though we don’t know how you feel,” Beckett says, and I turn to face him again. I’m seriously boxed in here, the two of them leaning over me, determined and in control, and I wish it wasn’t as sexy as it is. “We know. Angel, we know what it is to feel loss. To lose someone that you care about. And how all you can think about is what you would’ve done differently to make sure it didn’t happen.”
I snort, and Beckett lightly grabs my chin, tilting my face up and closing my mouth in one smooth movement. His touch doesn’t hurt at all, but it’s firm.
“Listen to me,” he says, his voice commanding, and I remember all over again that this man is the head of a business empire, and he didn’t get that way by being the kind of person who bends. “You want to know why Ryland and I were at odds for so long? Why we didn’t speak to one another and why we’re arguing constantly? Once, we both fell in love with the same woman. We both wanted her, and we fought over her, and in the end, we both lost her. Neither of us won that day. We were both bitter and hurt, and we’ve been taking it out on each other ever since.”
“The whole idea of letting something go if you love it,” Ryland says, his mouth right by my ear,
“is utter nonsense. We walked away from her, fighting each other instead, and that meant she didn’t feel loved by either of us. We should have been focused on her. And because she felt neglected, she left us. We told her to choose, and she chose neither. We won’t be doing that again.”
“We care about you, angel. We’re standing by you, and that means not letting you face this fight alone,” Beckett says. “Anderson’s going to come after you no matter what. He knows that you know too much. And we’re not going to let you deal with the fallout on your own. We’re going to fight with you. We’re going to figure this out.”
“We’re tougher than you think, little angel.” Something in Ryland’s voice hits me right in the chest, and I turn to look at him over my shoulder.
When I first met Pride, I never would’ve thought that he had any kind of feeling for others. I truly thought him a sin, the closest to true evil out of all the men. Even Ford, who scared me at first, never made me so nervous.
Now I see an openness in him. Maybe even a warmth, like the spring thaw. His dark eyes glitter, and he watches me so intently that I feel naked, laid bare before him.
“But what if you’re redeemed?” I whisper, my voice quiet and shaky. “What if this tips the scales?”
“What matters isn’t what comes after,” Ryland continues, still looking me right in the eye. “It isn’t whether we live or die. What matters is that we fight with you, and frankly, fuck the consequences. We’re going to stand by you no matter what. That’s all that’s important.”
Holy crap.
I don’t know what to say.
I don’t know how to feel.
A moment ago, I was convinced that nothing these men said could break through my determination. But Ryland’s words have just thrown me completely off balance.
I never would’ve thought I’d hear him say something like that. It’s not exactly a declaration of love on the surface, but that’s what it feels like. That’s what I hear in the spaces between the words.
Ryland has never struck me as the kind of person who would speak his feelings out loud, in plain English. You have to read between the lines a little to know what he’s really saying.
And I know exactly what he’s saying.
I know what Beckett is saying when I look at him and he stares right back at me, open and honest. I know what he means, now, when he calls me angel.
I love these men.
And they love me back.
“You would do that?” I whisper. “Risk yourselves like that for me?”
Ryland’s gaze holds mine. Just like the first time I met him, his intense stare makes me feel small and vulnerable. So tiny compared to this tall, dominating man. But that feeling no longer scares me or intimidates me. Instead, it makes heat flush through my body.
“I’ll risk whatever it takes,” he murmurs.
His large hand moves up to capture my jaw, and I shift a little between them as he drops his head and presses his lips to mine.
Oh… wow.
Every time I’ve kissed Ryland before this, there’s been an element of restraint to it, as if he wouldn’t allow himself to take too much or give too much. As if we were kissing through an invisible barrier—with something always between us, no matter how close we got.
But that barrier is gone now. And Ryland kissing with everything he has?
It’s scorching.
My knees go a little weak as the hard press of his lips and the sweep of his tongue make sparks shoot through me. Fortunately, Beck is on my other side, and he steps closer as I sag a little, pinning me between the two of them. They’re both so large, so dominant, that I feel completely surrounded.
Beckett’s hand replaces Ryland’s on my jaw as he turns my head the other way, and then he’s kissing me. The transition from one man to the next was so seamless that it’s hard to believe they spent so many years hating each other. So many years holding on to their anger.
They’re so alike. So perfectly in tune.
If they fought over the woman they both once loved, I feel bad for her—because having them in sync like this is so much better.
Maybe they didn’t know then that it was possible to share. Maybe their pride or greed got in the way. But holy cow, what they’re doing to me right now is incredible.
I don’t feel torn between them. I feel cherished by both of them. They move so perfectly together that I lose track of whose lips are kissing me, whose hands are touching me. My eyes drift shut as sensations crackle through my body from every single nerve-ending.
My heavy eyelids open again as they lift me up, trapping me between them as they continue to kiss and caress me. My legs automatically wrap around Beck’s waist as my head falls to Ryland’s shoulder. The man behind me gives a satisfied little growl, nipping my earlobe as his hand travels over my stomach, delving beneath the waistband of my pants.
From in front of me, Beckett slides my shirt up and cups my breasts, brushing his thumbs over the sensitive nipples through the fabric of my bra.
They’re taking me apart, piece by piece.
And it feels freaking amazing.
Ryland’s fingers slide lower, slipping through my wet folds and making my legs tighten convulsively around Beck’s waist.
“Oh, fuck!”
I whimper, my body thrashing in their hold. Ryland’s free hand is supporting me, and I don’t even worry for a second about them dropping me, even as I writhe with pleasure.
They don’t stop touching me, teasing my nipples and clit as pleasure skyrockets inside me. There’s something so deliberate about their movements, and it turns me on in a way I can’t even quite explain.
When I’m breathless and gasping, grinding against Ryland’s hand and arching my back toward Beckett’s touch, the two men share a look. Some silent communication passes between them, and the next thing I know, we’re moving toward the bed.
Beck slowly unwinds my legs from around his waist and they lay me down on the mattress, crawling up beside me. I’m already needy and desperate, so worked up that I’m hoping they’ll rip my clothes off and give me what I need so badly.
But of course, they don’t.
These men do things their way. Always. And they don’t rush anything.
Instead of jumping right to the main event, they keep touching me and caressing me, kissing every inch of my skin as they undress me and then themselves.
My lips are swollen and tingling, my skin covered in a light sheen of sweat, and my clit throbs from hovering so close to the edge of an orgasm but never quite going over. I feel a little delirious, and my only consolation is that I can hear Beck and Ryland breathing harder too. Their skin is hot, and their cocks are hard as steel, brushing against my thighs as they work me up into a mindless state of pleasure between them.
Driving me crazy is driving them crazy too, and the control that infuses everything they do is slipping.
Good.
I want it to slip. I want to feel what it’s like when these two powerful men let go.
A little shiver of fear passes through me at the thought. But just like Ford, I know they’d never hurt me. Even before I knew if I could fully trust them, I believed that.
I’m on my back on the large bed with Ryland on my left side and Beckett on my right. When Ryland lets out a low groan of pleasure, I can’t stop myself anymore. I press up off the mattress and climb on top of him, straddling him and resting my hands on his chest.
His eyes flare wide for a moment with surprise, and then I see pride and heated satisfaction in his dark irises. He likes that I made a move, that I’m not afraid to take what I want. As commanding as he is, I wonder if he secretly likes being challenged. After all, what kind of pride is there to be had in winning when there’s no challenge?
The thick hardness of his cock is trapped between us, and when I shift my hips a little, my slick core glides against his length. My clit practically sings with pleasure, and I rock against him again, biting my lip as I push myself closer to t
he precipice.
“You’re beautiful like this, angel,” he groans, his fingers digging into my hips. He follows my movements for a moment before taking over, using his hold on me to work me against his cock. “Come. Just like this. I want to see you come.”
Part of me doesn’t want to yet. Part of me wants to wait until he’s inside me; I want to feel how he stretches me and claims my body as I squeeze around him. But the look in his eyes promises plenty more orgasms after this one, so I stop fighting against the pleasure that’s rising inside me, letting myself get pulled along by the wave as it crests.
My fingers clench, nails digging into Ryland’s dark skin as I let out a low cry. Maybe it’s because it took so long to arrive, but the orgasm seems to go on forever, flooding my body with the most exquisite feeling.
When I finally stop shuddering, my head drooping and my palms going flat against Ryland’s chest, he smiles up at me like a jungle cat who just ate a most satisfying meal.
I don’t know how it’s possible when I’m so sated, but my body is already hungry for more. I swirl my hips a little, smearing my arousal over his shaft and teasing my sensitized clit. As I do, Beckett crawls up behind me, pressing a hot kiss to my shoulder blade.
The heat of his chest makes me shiver with desire, and I gasp when I feel the thick length of his cock slide between my cheeks. It feels strange but good—dirty in a way that only turns me on more.
“Do you want us both, angel?” he murmurs. “We’ve already agreed to share you. Neither of us will try to claim you only for ourselves. But will you claim both of us?”
A thrill runs through me, and I crane my neck to look up at him over my shoulder. His cock is still firmly nestled between my ass cheeks, the length of it sliding against my skin as I rock against Ryland and Ryland pulses against me. The three of us are moving together, and each shift of our bodies makes the flame inside me burn hotter.
“Both of you?” I ask, my voice a little raspy. “Together?”
I think I know what he’s asking—at least, I’m pretty sure I do. I mean, I only have so many holes, so what else could he be talking about? It’s never really something I considered, but I’m shocked at how much the idea turns me on.