by Logan Fox
And he uses that against me. When I sink down, expecting him to grab my ass and haul me up against the wall, he instead breaks our kiss and pushes me to my knees.
“What are you—” is all I get out before he presses his thumb and forefinger into my cheeks, opening my jaw.
And then his cock is sliding into my mouth, already hard, already salty with precum.
He grabs a fistful of my hair and moves my lips up and down his dick.
I would have resisted more, but God I love the sound he makes when I’m sucking him off. I look up at him, and a tremor races through me at the intensity in his eyes. How his jaw bunches like he’s barely able to hold himself back.
But thank the Lord he does, because otherwise I would suffocate. As it is, I can barely fit more than half his cock in my mouth.
“We’ve given you more than enough time,” he says, his voice as tight as the seal of my lips around his dick. “So why won’t you listen to him? Why won’t you even hear him out?”
I hate the fact that they’re taking his side. I guess I haven’t known them as long as they’ve known each other, but you’d think they’d demand he pay for what he did to me.
Slamming my hands into his thighs, I push away from him. Rube relinquishes the grip on my hair just enough so that I can choke out his cock.
“He’s never even said he’s sorry,” I blurt out. “But you want me to forgive him?”
Rube’s eyes narrow. “He’s tried, Trinity. More than once.”
I start to argue, but then Rube shoves his cock back in my mouth.
“Every time he wants to talk, you walk away. Or tell him to go fuck himself. Or decide you need a nap.”
Oh my God. He makes me sound like a spoiled brat. But with each reprimand, his cock is being shoved into my mouth, so I have no choice but to shut up and listen.
“So when I’m done with you,” Rube says, his voice dropping an octave lower, “You’ll go out there, and you’ll listen.”
He tightens his fist in my hair.
It’s taken him a long time to even dare to do anything that might bring me the slightest pain. He’s refused to sleep with me ever since we arrived at this mansion. He keeps saying he doesn’t want to hurt me again. It doesn’t matter what I tell him. What his brothers tell him.
And I’m starting to think it has something to do with Zach. I know Rube’s not childish enough to bribe me, but…It’s as if he needs me to forgive his brother before he can even think of making love to me.
I’m not happy with the fact that I could be the one sabotaging my happiness.
Another twist. Sharp pain brings tears to my eyes that the shower’s rain setting patters away.
“Do you hear me?” he asks. His voice is gruff, tight. He’s getting close.
I nod, and even bat my eyelashes at him. Then I swirl my tongue as best I can around the tip of his cock, my core clenching at the salty taste of him.
He lets out a deep groan, and then thrusts hard into my mouth as if he wishes he was fucking me instead.
Don’t we both?
When he comes a second later, I swallow what I can, but some of his load trickles out the side of my mouth while I’m choking it down.
He pulls out, his cock bobbing an inch away from my lips as he uses his thumb to scoop up the cum dribbling down my chin.
“Don’t waste,” he murmurs. I dart forward, drawing his thumb into my mouth and sucking it clean.
“Good girl.” He strokes my wet hair, and for a second I think he’s going to put his cock back in my mouth for another round.
I guess I deserve it.
As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. Ever since he came back from the hospital, I’ve been avoiding Zach. I refuse to listen to him, dodging every request he’s made.
Honestly, I’m surprised it’s taken this long for my men to call me to task for it.
Rube crouches, grabs my hips, and helps me to my feet. Then he smooths back the hair straggling over my face and kisses my forehead.
“When?” I murmur, closing my eyes. I’m pretty sure I can reschedule any date I set. More importantly, I’m hoping that if I do set a date, he’ll finally do the one thing I’ve been begging him to for months now.
Make love to me.
He trails his fingers down my body, slides his hand between my legs, and tests me with a crook of his middle finger.
His breath is warm and sweet on my face when I look up at him, waiting for his reply.
But he’s wearing a grim expression I don’t like one bit.
“Now.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Zach
As soon as I realize my leg’s bouncing, I lean forward and rest my elbows on my thighs, lacing my fingers together. I’ve got nothing to fidget with, so I toy with my fingers, meshing them together then moving them apart, as I wait in the small den adjacent to the main bedroom.
Our bedrooms are on the second level, but Trinity sleeps on the top floor, and everyone usually joins her up there.
Except me.
I was banished the moment I set foot in my own house.
My leg starts jittering again until I push away that negative thought.
A cigarette would have helped. A joint would have been even better.
Trinity doesn’t like us smoking cigarettes inside the mansion. Despite the fact we outnumber her four-to-one, my brothers treat her word like law.
I don’t understand it. Not one fucking iota.
There’s no sane reason for us to bend the knee to a girl. Especially one as little as her.
But she’s got everyone wrapped around her little finger.
Including me.
Not that I’m complaining. Trinity fascinates me. Despite everything she went through she only holds one grudge.
I’ve heard her admit to my brothers that she’s forgiven Gabriel. Her parents.
But not me.
What gives?
Tonight is her last chance. If she won’t hear me out, if she won’t pass that same forgiveness onto me…then there’s nothing left for me to do but leave. It would kill me to go, to abandon my brothers again, but I’ll have no choice.
Maybe I’ll still get the kids on weekends, who knows?
I drop my head, letting out a rueful huff as I watch my fingers work against each other.
Then come the footsteps.
When I look up and see her standing a few feet away dressed in a silk robe that does nothing to hide her exquisite curves, my heart pulses in my chest. I put a hand over it, wincing before I can stop myself. Ever since the surgery, it’s been doing some strange things inside my chest.
My doctor says I’m imagining it.
I think he bought his degree.
Trinity’s eyes dart to my hand, then back to my eyes. Her face is steel, her body rigid.
Rube comes up behind her, a towel wrapped around his waist. I’d have assumed they fucked in the shower, but from what the guys tell me, that belt cinching her waist might as well be a chastity belt. There’s been nothing serious between the four of them since that day in the library back at Saint Amos.
Guess we all still have some issues to work through.
“Well?” she says, quirking her eyebrow at me. “I’m listening.”
My hackles rise at her tone, but then Rube sticks out a hand, palm down. I force myself to take a breath, and then I stand, urging myself to stay calm.
“Where do you want to—” I begin.
“Right here. Right now.” Trinity plants her ass on the couch opposite to the one I was sitting on, putting a small coffee table between us. Then she spends a few seconds rearranging her robe, as if she doesn’t dare let me get a peek at her legs.
“Fine.” I sit again, run my palms down my thighs, and wish my heart didn’t feel like it missed every other beat.
And then Rube leaves. I stare at his retreating back, my eyebrows shooting up to my hairline.
So much for moral support.
“Can we hu
rry this up?” Trinity says.
I turn back to her, my lips thinning. But then I remember what Rube said before he went into the bathroom to talk to her.
Don’t let her get in your head.
He doesn’t know she’s been in there since day one. Wasn’t able to get her out back then, sure as fuck won’t be happening now.
I start off the only way I know how. “I’m sorry.”
She sniffs, crosses her legs, and stares out the window at the black ocean. There’s a moon out tonight, so the beach glows under its pale light, but I’m sure she’s watching the waves. They’re hypnotic at night.
But nothing compares to her.
With her eyes off me, I have a rare opportunity to study her. Her dark curls, heavy with water, cling to the side of her neck. I want nothing more than to peel it away and lick up the beads of water it will leave behind.
With the apology out of the way, I can get onto the good stuff.
“I’m not going to defend what I did. Or try and reason with you. It was wrong. Dead wrong. And I shouldn’t have done it. But I can’t go back. I can’t change what I did.”
But she says nothing. Just keeps staring out the window.
“Trinity.”
I bite my tongue, keeping back another prompt.
When she finally turns to me, her amber eyes are fucking luminescent. “That’s it?” she murmurs. “I was wrong, I shouldn’t have done it. That’s your apology?”
I open my mouth, but she doesn’t give me a chance to speak.
“You’re right, Zach. You can’t change the past. But what’s stopping you from doing it again? Leaving them again?”
“I just said—”
Wait…Them?
That’s what this is about? She’s pissed because I left my brothers behind?
I frown at her, stand, hesitate. And she tips back her head to stare at me, as if daring me to walk away from the conversation.
Because that will be the end of it. Then I might as well keep walking until I’m out the fucking door.
I move around the coffee table, slow so she doesn’t bolt. And she lets me sit next to her, which is the closest I’ve been since I shoved her out of the way of Gabriel’s bullet.
“I was protecting them,” I tell her. I reach for her, but she pulls back, eyes slitting warily. “I’d…” I trail off, and then it’s my turn to look away because I’m not sure I can bring myself to tell her the next part. Not if I’m still trying to get her to trust me.
“You what? Thought they’d be better off without you? That they’d just go on with their lives?” She twists, facing me, her knees knocking against mine. Then she stabs a finger into my chest, ruthless, no concern for the scar less than an inch away.
“If that’s the case, then you should never have come back because it’s obvious you don’t give a fuck about them.”
I open my mouth. She cuts me off.
“If you did, you wouldn’t have left them when they needed you the most. They almost got killed, and that’s on you.”
I can’t take another stab in my chest, so I grab her wrist. But as gently as I can, only tightening my grip when she tries to tug her arm free.
“You almost got killed too,” I tell her. “Or did you forget?”
My brothers told me she had a bout of amnesia when she came out of the anesthesia. According to them, her memories all came back. But she’s acting like she has no fucking clue what almost happened back then.
If she had died…
Her pulse throbs under my thumb. Quick, strong. She’s angry, but she’s keeping it under control. I guess we’ve both learned some tricks the past few months.
Her eyes flick left, right. “We’re alone now,” she whispers fiercely, leaning in close enough to kiss. “You can drop the act.”
My heart slams into my rib cage. Before I can stop myself, I’m grinding her wrist bones together.
She winces, and then a spark of victory lights up her eyes. “They’ll believe anything you tell them, Zach, but you showed me your true colors. And I can’t unsee that.”
And then it hits me.
She’s talking about the knife. What I said when I told her to leave.
I drop my head, huff. “Fuck,” I murmur.
She huffs too. “Yeah, fuck.” Then she pulls her hand out of my grip and gets to her feet. “I won’t ever let you hurt them again. Not now, not ever. And if that means you’ll always hate me, then you’d better strap in, because it’s gonna be a bumpy fucking ride.”
Trinity moves to walk past me, but then I’m standing, my body a wall she can’t pass. She rears back, glaring up at me, mouth opening.
I don’t give her a chance to speak.
She makes an angry sound when I grab her wrist and force her hand against my heart, pushing her palm flush against the thick scar left behind by my surgery.
“You’re wrong about a lot of things,” I tell her.
“Am I?” she mutters, trying to pull her hand away.
“You were wrong to forgive Gabriel.”
She ducks her head, laughs bitterly. “Oh my God.”
“You were wrong to forgive your parents.”
Her head snaps back, her plump mouth distorting into a snarl. I don’t try and stop when she slaps my face with her free hand, but then I grab it too, press that against my chest.
“And you’re wrong not to forgive me.”
“You don’t get to decide who—”
“You want the truth? I told you to leave that morning because I couldn’t stand the sight of you anymore.”
She gapes at me, indignant, but far from incredulous. How she saw this coming, I don’t know. I guess I got my point across better than I thought the morning Gabriel snatched her from Saint Amos.
“You make me sick, Trinity.”
Hurt flashes in her eyes.
That tiny spark of pain reminds me of the beast I harbor inside my mind. The one that seeks out violence and chaos…and vulnerability.
That’s all it takes.
Just one spark.
And I’m done.
I can never hurt her again. Never bring her pain again. Not like this. I wasn’t going to carry on talking. I was going to leave her with those bitter words. But for the first time in my fucking life, I want to ease her pain. Even if it denies me the thing I’ve always craved so deeply.
But she has to understand.
I slam her hand into my chest. “Every time I looked at you, my heart would twist. Every time you came close, my skin would go cold.” I manipulate her hand, bringing it up to my cheek. Not the one she slapped—that one’s still stinging, but the other.
I press her knuckles to my flesh and will her to feel that chill.
“Every time we were together, the five of us, I felt like I was dying.”
Slow realization turns her bronze-dark eyes to bright amber.
“So yeah, I told you to leave. I shouldn’t have, it was selfish as fuck, but when I thought about how I felt around you…a sadist like me…I couldn’t even imagine how you made them feel.”
I glance past her, to where my brothers said they’d wait.
“So I made you leave. And I told myself I was doing the right thing.” I shake my head, let go of her hands. “That we’d be better off if you were gone.”
Her hands drop to her sides. The hurt is back in her eyes, but it’s different. It doesn’t fuel me like it should.
I clear my throat. Rake fingers through my hair.
“When I realized how wrong I was…that’s when I came back. And it was wrong. I shouldn’t have pushed you away from them, Trinity. It wasn’t my decision to make.”
She stares up at me, silent, barely blinking. Her chest rises as she takes a deep breath, but she exhales without saying anything.
“And what I’ve been trying to tell you…” I look down, reach for her hands.
I wait for her to pull away so I can turn and leave.
She doesn’t.
Trinity lets
me take her hands again. Does nothing as I lace my fingers with hers. As I pull her a little closer.
I clear my throat again.
“I’m waiting,” she says.
I start to growl at her impatience, but I check myself immediately.
Swallow. Fucking breathe.
“I don’t forgive you, Trinity Malone. I don’t think I ever can.”
Her eyes go wide. Her fingers tighten around mine. “What?” she says, but it’s barely a whisper.
“I was broken before I met you. Broken, and selfish. And I was happy not giving a fuck about anyone but myself.” I tug her the last bit, until her body’s pressed against mine. “Then you came along, and you fixed me. You made me feel again. I’d promised myself I’d never be scared again. And then I met you.”
I shake loose one of my hands, then the other. I finally get to peel the strands of wet hair from her throat, and run my thumbs down the side of her neck.
“And now I’m terrified all the fucking time.”
She puts her hands over mine, her lips parting. “Zach, I didn’t—”
“I love you, Trinity. But I don’t think I can ever forgive you.”
Her eyes are limpid, glowing.
I duck my head. Aim for her lips. And they part oh so fucking invitingly.
But then a finger presses against my mouth, hard enough to push my head back. My eyes fly open, and I glare down at her as she puts her head to the side.
“No.”
A most familiar frustration rises inside me. “No?”
“I don’t accept your apology.” She shrugs. “That was a good start,” she says, and then clears her fucking throat. “But it’s not enough.”
“Christ, woman, what the hell—” I start.
She puts her finger back on my mouth. “Nuh-uh.”
I pull away. Bite down on my lip and pretend it’s hers instead.
It doesn’t work.
I want to rip her to shreds…and then plaster her back together with kisses. I’m trembling from the force of stopping myself lunging at her.
She puts that same finger to her own lips, purses them. Cocks her head again. Taps her lips once, twice, three times.
“What?” I growl, when she stays silent.
“You must be tired,” she says.