Chapter Three #3
I tense, a sudden spike of adrenaline shooting through my veins as he closes the gap between us in two strides. His hand clamps down around my bicep, his grip unforgiving and tight. A sharp wave of clove, woodsmoke, and black pepper hits my nose, clinging to his clothes.
I flinch, startled by the sudden physical contact.
I don’t know what to do. I dart a panicked look at Ash, silently begging for some kind of intervention.
Ash chews on his bottom lip, his neat blonde brows drawing together in obvious conflict, but he doesn’t step in.
He stays standing by the sink, gripping a dish towel.
Ryker tugs me out of the kitchen. I trip over my own feet, stumbling against the hardwood, too alarmed to fight back.
I’ve never been in a fistfight, never had anyone handle me with this kind of casual dominance.
My brain isn’t working as Ryker hauls me down the wide hallway, pulling me past Ash’s door and heading for the second one.
Ash trails behind us, his footsteps quiet on the floorboards, but he doesn’t try to pull Ryker off me. He only watches, his face a mask of nervous apprehension as Ryker shoves me into the dim room beyond the threshold.
I stumble forward, catching my balance just as Ryker slams the door shut behind us.
“Don’t scare him, Ry,” Ash calls from the hallway, his voice muffled through the wood.
Ryker ignores him. He grabs my shoulders, pushing me backward until my spine hits the wall.
I let out a yelp of surprise, my hands coming up instinctively to defend myself, but he doesn’t strike me.
Instead, his long fingers grip my jaw. He turns my face to the side, then the other way, inspecting my profile under the soft glow of a bedside lamp.
I swallow a nervous lump in my throat, trying to resist the urge to tremble.
He’s bigger than me, broader, throwing a shadow over my face.
I have no idea what’s going on. I’ve never been manhandled like this, pinned down by a guy covered in tattoos who looks like he could snap my neck without breaking a sweat.
I can’t even begin to guess where this is heading.
Before I can form a word, Ryker grabs my shoulder and spins me around. He presses me face-first into the wall. I make a muffled sound of protest, wriggling my shoulders, but he flattens a hand between my shoulder blades and pins me flat against the drywall.
Panic flares in my chest. This is it. This must be the catch I was waiting for.
Ash played the nice guy, fed me, bought me clothes, and now this Ryker guy is about to extract payment from my hide.
But Ryker doesn’t throw a punch. He doesn’t hurt me at all.
Doesn’t even touch me other than to hold me pinned, taking a long, silent moment to look me over from head to toe.
I feel his gaze skimming down my back, over my waist, evaluating my frame.
Then, abruptly, the weight lifts. He steps back.
I spin around, my chest heaving as I suck in a breath. I keep my back pressed against the wall for support, staring up at him.
“What was that?” I stutter, my voice cracking. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude on your place. If you don’t want me here, I can—”
Ryker waves a hand in the air, cutting off my nervous rambling. He folds his arms over his chest, the dark ink on his skin flexing with the movement. He gives a curt nod, looking like he’s just settled an internal debate.
“Alright, kid, here’s the deal,” Ryker says, in a low, gravelly rasp. “Ash probably didn’t tell you this because he didn’t want to scare you. He’d coddle you if I let him, but that would only make this a bigger shock when he eventually brought it up. So I’m just going to be frank with you.”
I press my palms flat against the wall, my pulse throbbing in my ears. I wait, too scared to interrupt him again.
Ryker holds my eye. “We have an open position, if you’re interested in filling it.”
I frown, my confusion cutting through the fear. “What do you mean?”
A ghost of a smirk touches the corner of Ryker’s mouth. “See, the three of us, we’re real close. So close that we share almost everything … Including partners.”
My stomach drops. I stare at him, my mind spinning as the pieces start clicking into place. I keep my mouth shut, terrified I might be misunderstanding the situation, and let him continue.
“Ash might’ve brought you here because he genuinely wanted to help you out,” Ryker says, his blue eyes watching my reaction.
“But it just so happens you also appear to match everything we’ve been looking for.
So I’m going to offer you a deal. You can continue to stay here, live here rent-free, with everything you need provided for, if you agree to being shared between the three of us. ”
I was right. There’s always a cost. But this is so far out of the realm of anything I could have ever imagined that I actually laugh in breathless panic. “Uh, when you say shared…”
“Your body,” Ryker answers, finishing my sentence without hesitation. “Sex. Yes. It means you would offer yourself up to the three of us to use freely. As we wish, whenever we want, however we want.”
I stare at him, stunned into silence. I knew there was a catch to staying here. I just assumed it meant scrubbing toilets or acting as a live-in maid. Not becoming a communal plaything for three guys.
Ryker watches my shock with calm, detached patience.
He shifts his weight, leaning against a dark oak dresser.
“Since it sounds like you don’t have a lot of options, I’ll be generous.
If you refuse, you’re free to go, of course.
You can stay here for a week or two until you find another place to crash.
We can help you that much. But if you agree, we take care of everything you need. You won’t have to worry about a thing.”
He lets that sink in, watching my chest rise and fall as I struggle to breathe normally.
“This has to be your choice,” Ryker continues, his tone sobering slightly.
“There are rules, conditions, boundaries we all have that will be explained if you agree to it. Nobody will touch you until you agree. If it’s not for you, then you can be on your way.
No harm done. But there are a lot more benefits to agreeing. ”
Speechless, I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. The strict, conservative upbringing I spent my life suffocating under clashes violently with the offer on the table. My parents would drop dead on the spot if they heard this conversation.
Finally, I manage to force a stupid, half-dazed sentence past the knot in my throat. “But … I’m not gay.”
Ryker grins in a flash of white teeth, clearly amused by my panic. “Sure, kid. But that doesn’t matter all that much to us anyway. It’s just sex. You don’t have to be in love with us.”
I swallow hard. This is insane. I should just get myself together, grab the clothes Ash bought me, and walk out the front door. I can find a way to pay Ash back later. I should be yelling, calling him names, running for the hills.
But I don’t. I don’t run screaming. I don’t yell. I don’t retreat.
Instead, I inhale a shaky breath. I look at Ryker’s broad shoulders, his sharp jawline, and remember Ash’s warm brown eyes and the soft way he held my hands in the kitchen.
“Can I have some time to think about it?” I ask quietly.
The words slip out of my mouth without much thought. Not a no. Not a ‘fuck no’. Not an ‘I would never do something like that’.
My face flushes burning hot.
Ryker’s grin widens. He tips his chin in acquiescence, stepping aside to clear my path to the door.
I don’t wait for him to change his mind. I push away from the wall, my feet carrying me across the room in a clumsy rush. I reach the door, grab the handle, and burst out into the hallway. I pull the door shut behind me, leaning against the wood as I try to catch my breath.
My heart hammers against my ribs. What the hell did I just do? What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
And worse, as I stand in the hallway of this beautiful, expensive apartment, staring down at myself … why am I actually considering it?