Chapter 37 #3
“Come on, let’s get you home.” We take the back entrance down so we don’t run into anyone else, which I didn’t even know existed, exiting along the side of the courtyard.
Dayton holds my hand the entire way, helping me navigate the overgrowth.
We pass a barren section, and he mentions how it’d be the perfect spot for Hudson to have a swingset.
I can’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness, astounded by how easily they’ve all welcomed him into their lives without a second thought.
“Thank you for walking me back,” I tell him, fighting off a yawn. I hadn’t realized how late it’d gotten.
“If Hudson didn’t need you, I’d be carrying you to my bed,” Dayton gripes, tugging me closer by the back of the neck.
“Briggs can’t keep hogging all of your nights.
” Hope surges within me, his remark sounding suspiciously close to acceptance.
Before I can respond, the outside light by the front door starts flickering on and off.
I groan, knowing exactly who’s responsible.
“Speaking of the asshole.” Dayton holds his middle finger out, aimed at the peephole that’s likely being used to spy on us.
Bending lower, his lips take mine in a heated kiss, giving Briggs a show.
I wish the thought of him watching us didn’t excite me, but it absolutely does.
“Goodnight, Dayton,” I whisper against his mouth when we break apart, then force myself to move.
“‘Night, Butterfly,” he calls out, waiting until I’m safely inside before heading home.
The moment I enter the apartment, Briggs is there, feigning nonchalance as he skims a magazine he has no interest in.
Our eyes meet across the room, a smirk twisting his lips when he fully takes me in.
Slowly standing from where he’s seated on the couch, he strides towards me, the cocky air he dons so well practically suffocating me.
“Oh, honey,” he murmurs, dragging a single finger down my face and neck.
“You look absolutely wrecked, Angel.” He brushes my hair aside and places a faint kiss behind my ear, then whispers, “It’s my favorite look on you.
” I inhale sharply, but Briggs severs the moment and straightens, completely switching gears.
“Why don’t you go take a hot shower while I check on Hudson before calling it a night?” he asks.
“That sounds great, actually.” I smile in thanks and head towards the ensuite, my chilled body and overworked muscles eager for some warmth.
I turn the water on and quickly strip, twisting my hair up so I can avoid getting it wet.
It could probably use another wash, but I’m so exhausted I can barely stand.
Soaping up a washcloth, I scrub myself clean.
When I glide it between my thighs, I remember Dayton’s caveman demand, but he’s crazy if he thinks I’m risking a UTI to sate his possessiveness.
As I pull the cloth away, my heart plummets, dread flooding my system so swiftly that I can’t do anything but stare at the dark red blood smeared across the fabric.
Using my fingers to verify I’m not hallucinating, a sob heaves out of me when I pull them away, and my suspicion is confirmed.
“Briggs!” I scream his name, tears pouring down my cheeks.
I hurt my baby. Oh, fuck. I’ll never forgive myself.
I inhale deeply, prepared to yell again when the door flies open and bangs against the wall.
The shower is wrenched open, revealing a wild-eyed Briggs, his gaze instantly zeroing in on the bloody cloth I’m still gripping tightly.
“I’m...I’m bleeding,” I state the obvious, struggling to get the words out.
“Shhh, it’s okay, Angel,” he soothes, stepping under the spray, not the least bit bothered that he’s fully clothed. His hands frame my face, those pitch-black irises holding me captive as he whispers reassurances. “Spotting can happen after penetration. Do you want me to take a look, Angel?”
There’s nothing sexual about the question, just his desire to stem my worry.
I nod my head vigorously, needing to know that something worse isn’t going on.
Briggs takes the washcloth from my hand and folds it in half, then takes the clean side and slides it between my legs.
There’s only a faint trace of blood this time, making me sag in relief.
“My baby’s okay?” I question, desperate for confirmation.
“Yes, Angel.” He places his hand over my stomach. “Baby is fine, but you should still let your OB know that you were spotting when you go to your appointment next week.”
I nod in agreement, then verify, “This is normal?”
“Yes, it happens on occasion. But if you’re wanting my expert opinion, I think your poor little pussy was overworked today,” Briggs teases, his thumb sliding across my nipple.
“Let’s see…” he trails off, his eyes taking on a faraway look, as if he’s trying to recall something.
“There was Raiden this morning.” He pinches the tight bud, making my hand fly out and smack the tile.
“And then Col this afternoon. Those sounds you made had my cock half-hard all evening.” The hand on my stomach glides lower, his fingers gently mapping out my sex.
“Can’t forget Dayton’s ornery ass. I suspect he’s the reason for the blood.
He’s girthy, huh?” I snort, unable to comprehend how this has turned sexual.
“I’m feeling a bit left out, Angel,” Briggs pouts, then drops to his knees. Leaning forward, he presses his lips to my pubic bone. I stare at him wide-eyed, shock rendering me immobile when his intentions become clear.
“I was just bleeding!” I whisper-yell, feeling awkward that he’d even think of doing that right now.
“Angel, if you think your blood is a deterrent, you’d be wrong.
So very fucking wrong.” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond.
In the next breath, his tongue slides across my pussy, licking me from one end to the other.
My fingers grip his dark hair, needing something to hold onto as his mouth makes love to me.
There’s no better description for what he’s doing, the slow roll of his tongue bringing me to the edge so quickly, I don’t have time to brace.
My release is a full-body experience, starting at the tips of my toes and ending with my head dropping back on a loud moan, darkness overtaking me as my legs give out.
When I finally come to, Briggs has dried me off and covered me in one of his T-shirts.
We’re snuggled in bed, his fingers gently stroking my belly.
“Welcome back,” he jokes, handing me a glass of water. I chug half of it before placing the rest on the nightstand.
“What happened?” I ask, confusion clouding the last few minutes.
“Four men in one day, that’s what happened.” Briggs laughs at my offended expression. My mouth pops open to give him an earful, then quickly closes when I realize he’s right.
Way to go, Andi. You truly are a harlot.
“Asshole,” I mutter, pointedly rolling over so my back is facing him.
“Aw, come on. Don’t be like that, Angel.
” Briggs slides closer, erasing the space I put between us.
His arm slides around my middle once again, tugging me against him.
Not that I’d tell him at this precise moment, but I love the way our bodies fit together.
“I can be whatever you need me to be, baby. Just don’t cast me aside, okay?
” His shift from playful to serious is sudden, but not entirely unexpected.
I don’t think Briggs has felt secure in where he belongs in a very long time, but I’m certain he belongs with me.
“Never,” I promise.
“Sleep, Angel. I’ll be right here, watching over you.” It takes no effort to follow his order.
Sometime later, the bed dips and the scent of Raiden washes over me. I’ve dreamt of this, sleeping soundly between two of the men I love, but I never imagined it’d become a reality.