Chapter Thirty Eight
The motel room smells like stale cigarettes and cheap disinfectant, but it does the job. The receptionist was blind, accepted cash, and didn’t take a name. A flickering neon sign outside the window casts an eerie red glow against the walls, pulsing like a heartbeat.
I sit on the edge of the lumpy mattress, my hands clasped between my knees, trying to ignore how my fingers won’t stop trembling. The adrenaline is fading, leaving behind a strange hollowness in its wake. Behind me, on another of the four beds, Doc Marcus hovers over Axel, fussing over his bandages, while Garrett sits on a chair at his side.
We had one stop, in which Marcus jumped off the bus to relieve himself by the side of the road, and Wyatt could quickly tell the others about Sharon’s demise and the reasons why. Surprisingly, he didn’t leave anything out, and unsurprisingly, Garrett’s two responses were, ' Thank fuck the bitch is dead,' and, ' Can I get a copy of that tape?' Axel is yet to say anything.
Across the room, Wyatt is muttering to Hux, their heads bowed in low conversation, while Dax hangs over Thiago, his laptop humming softly on the desk. Wyatt’s shoulders are rigid, anxiety coiling through his frame. He hasn’t stopped moving since we got here. Pacing, planning, and unraveling whatever temper is making it impossible for him to relax. After the way he held me on the minibus, his thumb constantly stroking my skin and his foot bouncing against mine, I should say something to help. Do something to help. But my own thoughts are a tangled mess.
Fredrick’s address is lying on the table for all to see. A tangible, dangerous connection to the twin I’ve been yearning for. Every second I can see it, I can imagine the torture I could be saving her from, using my childhood as reference. The only reason I’m not halfway out the door already is because Wyatt is watching me like he expects me to bolt at any second.
And honestly? He’s not wrong.
Thiago suddenly scrubs a hand over his face, breaking the silence. “That’s me for the night. I can’t even see the screen anymore,” he closes his laptop and moves to stand. Wyatt quickly puts a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back into the seat.
“No one’s sleeping,” Wyatt barks a little too loudly. He pinches the bridge of his nose, his exhaustion apparent, but he won’t give in. The need to get us out of the state, as far away from the crime scene, is pushing him to be snappy. The fact it coincides with getting one step closer to Meg puts extra pressure on him to pull this off. “We don’t have time.”
“We don’t have a choice,” Garrett cuts in, rolling his eyes. He’s yet to change out of his leathers, and I reckon he’s feeling the look. I, for one, couldn’t wait to get out of that catsuit, changing in the minibus with Wyatt glaring daggers at Thiago and Marcus to keep their eyes averted.
I nod, straightening my back and rolling my stiff shoulders out.
“He’s right. We’re running on fumes, and if we’re walking into Fredrick’s house like this, we might as well shoot ourselves in the foot first.” Wyatt looks like he wants to argue, but even he knows it’s the truth.
“Fine,” he grits out, looking at his phone for the time until daylight. “Three hours. Then we regroup here.”
A collective exhale filters through the room. No one truly relaxes, but it’s something. Thiago and Marcus pack up their equipment, heading for the rooms we booked out next door. Wyatt has one too, under the pretense that he’ll also be staying elsewhere. Since the whole sibling blackmail thing, which is currently burning a hole in my pocket, Wyatt is being extra cautious about how our relationship appears to the outside world. He doesn’t trust anyone outside of the Souls and me anymore.
Once again, Axel tells Garrett to change clothes. Gare’s dark eyes flash down to the mesh top beneath his jacket, a pinch of uncertainty flashing over his face. I catch the white-knuckled grip Garrett has on the lapels and suddenly realize the problem. He doesn’t want to take it off in front of the others. Picking up a random duffle bag since they were packed in a rush and everyone’s clothes are mixed together, I head toward the bathroom, ordering Gare to come with.
The lock is flimsy, but it holds as I shut Garrett inside. “Strip,” I tell him, my attention already on the bag at my feet. I rifle through, picking out some flannel pajama pants and a white tee, and in the background, I hear clothes hitting the floor. I’m careful to keep Garrett out of my eyeline, using the mirror at an angle so his reflection is hidden as I hold the clothes out. He takes them.
My reflection in the mirror is a stranger. Wide, haunted eyes, my shoulders tight and lips pressed tightly. I can forget about wrangling my hair into submission, my ponytail matted around the hair tie. When I don’t hear any sounds, I peek over my shoulder to see Garrett’s outline. He’s standing, facing me, completely naked, and stroking his cock.
“What are you doing?” I turn fully now, keeping my eyes on his. He tenses at his chest being on display but doesn’t shy away. Instead, his smirk is lazy, his fingers continuing to glide up and down his length. I must admit, the black nail polish on his tattooed hands is doing something for me.
“Oh,” Garrett pretends to be caught out. “You told me to strip and then bent over in front of me. I thought that was an invitation.” I lean back and grip the basin. We only have three hours until the stress starts all over again, the unknown forcing me to be both petrified and reckless. When no immediate answer comes, a voice calls from inside the room.
“Is he getting a blowjob right now?!” Axel calls.
“These walls are paper thin, you know,” Wyatt growls a moment later. I grin before I catch myself. I shouldn’t be able to smile or enjoy myself when I know Meg can’t do the same. But then I think about the five men who are all emotionally leaning on me and who need something to keep going. Especially since it’s my war that they are fighting .
Picking up the white T-shirt from where Garrett discarded it on the railing, I urge him to put it on before I unlock and swing the door open.
“If I’m not supposed to suck it, what do you want me to do about that?” I point to Garrett’s cock, standing thick and proud for all to see. This is one area that Garrett isn’t self-conscious about, and for a good reason.
“You can suck it, Swan,” Huxley nods, much to Garrett’s dick’s excitement. “I just think we’re past closed doors at this point.” A simmer of uncharted territory ripples through the six of us. Without Garrett being completely overbearing and forcing us all to push these boundaries, I find all eyes on me, an equal amount of intrigue and caution awaiting my next move. All the while, I’m thinking, ‘ We have three freaking hours, and I’m exhausted ’, so I decide to compromise.
“I only have the energy to make one of you come. Are you all in agreement that Garrett is the receiver?” The man in question makes a giddy little noise, like he might explode if we don’t get an answer soon. Dax takes pity on him first.
“It would be rude to deny him now.”
“Well, if I must,” Garrett sighs dramatically, swanning across the room to sit against Axel’s headboard with him. His grin is huge, as if he’s been waiting years for this exact scenario. I shake my head to myself, following him to the small double bed. His and Axel’s long limbs take up the entire length, not leaving much room for me to crawl between his legs. Chairs clatter as the three other spectators drag the metal along the length of the room to settle at the foot of the bed.
“You won’t get much of a view back there,” I frown over my shoulder. Wyatt snorts.
“It’s the only view I want.” Like every time Wyatt compliments me, my heart flips over itself. I pause, deciding they might as well get a proper show if that's the case. Stepping back off the bed, I wriggle out of my pajamas and climb on, the mattress springs squeaking loudly. As I bend forward, a round of appreciative groans echoes around the thin walls.
Garrett’s cock is still hard against his stomach, and there’s a part of me that enjoys the power at this moment. It’s intoxicating. The way his breath stutters when I drag my nails lightly up his thighs, the way his muscles tense in anticipation. How Axel’s hazel eyes drink in every movement between the two of us, his own pants starting to become tented.
I shift, settling between Garrett’s tattooed legs, and let my lips brush the sensitive skin along his hip. He inhales sharply. I glance up at him, amused at how quickly his teasing confidence wavers under my touch. I’m just enjoying how his jaw is locked shut for once. I let my tongue flick against the head of his cock, moving slowly to work my way down his shaft, moistening as I go. He’s silky smooth against my tongue, the lightest taste of salty precum gliding across the roof of my mouth.
Taking him deeper, my own arousal flares beneath the surface. I feel myself growing wetter, the cool air brushing against my cunt. Knowing they’re watching and that they can see everything drives my desire to a new high. I’m drunk on it, rolling my hips in mid-air and putting more gusto into the blowjob than possibly ever before.
A hand brushes a few fallen strands of hair from my face, and I blink up to see Axel stroking my face. He feels my cheek hollow, his hand doing an exploration of its own to feel Garrett’s cock bobbing in and out of my throat. When Garrett’s eyes open to watch, they’re blown wide with lust, his cheeks twinged pink and his hands fisting in the sheets.
“Careful, Gare. You don’t want to finish straight away. That would be embarrassing,” I smirk against his shaft. Laughter rumbles from Garrett’s chest.
“I’ll come after you, Peach.” On cue, hands caress my ass, fingers skimming over my wetness. I didn’t hear anyone move, but when I try to look back, Axel keeps his hold on my face.
“No one told you to stop,” he grins. With his encouragement, I take Garrett back into my mouth, distracted this time by the sensations running up the back of my thighs. My asscheeks are pried apart, the cold air hitting me more directly. Fingers roll over my clit and my hips in too many places to only belong to one person.
I can’t stop the moan that vibrates around Garrett’s shaft when fingers trace through my wetness, dipping closer to my center with unbearable slowness. The sensation sends a shiver up my spine, my entire body responding to their touch, my knees digging into the cheap motel bedding as I try to focus on the weight of Garrett in my mouth.
Garrett curses above me, his hips jerking slightly. I smirk around him, taking him deeper until he’s nudging the back of my throat, swallowing around his length just to hear the sharp breath he sucks in. A second set of fingers joins the first, spreading me open and teasing the slick entrance of my cunt.
“Fuck,” I whimper, the sound muffled around Garrett’s cock, my thighs trembling. I hear a chuckle from behind me, warm hands gripping my hips, steadying me.
“You like this, Swan.” Huxley’s voice is low and smooth. It's not posed as a question because he already knows the answer. He can feel how my body is responding as my arousal coats his fingers. Axel hums from where he still cradles my cheek, brushing his thumb just under my eye, his touch gentle in contrast to the intensity coiling between my legs.
“She loves having all of our attention. Don’t you, sweetheart?” I nod around Garrett, my answer too muffled. I hollow my cheeks again, drawing a groan from Garrett, and the praise only fuels me. His hands grip my hair, his restraint slipping.
Huxley chuckles, and suddenly, I feel the press of a finger as someone pushes inside me. A gasp leaves me, my body jolting, and Garrett groans as the movement pulls against his cock.
“Keep going,” Axel reminds me, his thumb dragging across my bottom lip, smearing saliva and precum in its wake. The finger inside me curls, stretching me deliberately as another joins, then quickly a third. I buck and groan, my eyes falling closed. I’m vaguely aware that Axel’s hold on my chin and Garrett’s grip on my hair are keeping my head bopping up and down, but my entire focus is on my own pleasure.
A slow drag, a quickened pace, a twisting motion. A disjointed rhythm I can’t predict. I’m pulled in all directions, my hips tilted upward. I can’t get enough, but I can’t relax into it either. Each thrust catches me off guard, my moans growing louder around Garrett, my movements more sluggish. As my brain is trying to envision who is fingering me so expertly, yet unpredictably, I suddenly go still as the perfect image slams into place.
It’s all three of them. Hux, Dax, and Wyatt standing shoulder to shoulder, pumping into me with individual pace and skill. Realizing I’ve stalled on Garrett’s dick, a sharp spank is delivered to my ass.
“Be good for us, Angel,” Wyatt warns. The nickname makes my stomach twist with heat, a needy whimper escaping as I take Garrett even deeper, eager to chase the praise, to feel him unravel under my touch, just like they’re doing to me. Someone presses against that sensitive spot as if I’ve given them a map of how to find it, and I know I’m about to break.
My skin feels tight under the weight of their attention, my body temperature soaring. I’m too hot, too sensitive to the fingers fucking my cunt. The feel of Garrett’s cock pulsing on my tongue, the stretch of fingers inside me, the way Axel is watching me like I’m the most mesmerizing thing he’s ever seen. All I know is that I’m drowning in them—in their touch, their voices, their control. And even though I know I’m a goner, I refuse to go down alone.
I let my tongue swirl around the tip of his cock before sinking down again, swallowing him as deep as I can. “Holy shit, Peach. You do that so well.” Garrett’s head thumps against the headboard, his body tightening beneath the white tee. I’m right there with him. When the first spurt of warm cum floods my mouth, my body retaliates.
I'm hit with a shockwave of pleasure so intense it steals the air from my lungs. My thighs quake, my body tightening around the fingers buried deep inside me as my orgasm slams into me. A cry rips from my throat, muffled around Garrett’s cock as I tremble, my muscles locking, fire scorching through my veins.
“Fuck, she’s squeezing us,” Hux groans, another hand smoothing down the curve of my spine. “So goddamn tight.” Their pace doesn’t falter as they drag out every pulse, every shuddering aftershock. Axel strokes my cheek and jaw, murmuring praise to Garrett and me. The latter pumps into me, and I swallow greedily, taking everything Garrett has to offer. For all of us, this was a distraction, and we succeeded.
Once the tremors subside, I finally drop into the nearest vacant bed, exhaustion claiming me almost instantly. My legs are moved, the cover drawn back, and a body slips in behind me. I’d guess Huxley from the tickle of his long hair and the firmness of his muscled chest.
A scraping sound brings the next bed closer, and through cracked eyelids, I watch Wyatt strip down to his boxers and lie in front of me. I force myself to wake, wanting to memorize his expression. Devoid of sternness, he stares at me so openly that I must remind myself it hasn’t always been this easy. To lie together and simply be.
Dax must be the one to turn off the light and plunge us into darkness, save for the red motel sign outside. Still, Wyatt watches me closely until I can no longer stay awake. I jerkily reach out, placing my hand on his chest just before I slip under, his warmth anchoring me to the shitty motel room that I wouldn’t change for the world. Because that’s where my men are, and that’s where we will finally be able to bring Meg when she’s saved.
Those eyes follow me into my dreams. A green Siren, neither guiding me home nor drawing me into danger. It’s as if my mind can’t decipher that last lingering look. The need to memorize my face, the silent apology I was too tired to acknowledge. Subconsciously, I seem to know something isn’t quite right.
For that reason, when I wake many, many hours later to find a folded piece of paper on my pillow, I’m not even surprised. I’m more disappointed when I sit up to see Axel sobbing into Huxley’s neck and Dax standing by the window, picking at his lip, because Garrett has decided to leave us behind too.