51. Serena
Serena
The four of us have just made it into the hallway when two things happen at once. First, a tall, strong bald man in a suit calls out for Graham, and second, Travis gets a call.
I watch, breathless, as Travis steps to the side to take his call, and Graham turns to listen to the security guard.
“Sir,” the bald man says, bringing his hand up to his ear piece. “The vice president is here. She would like a word with you.”
My heart jumps, then squeezes. Maybe I shouldn’t have charged in here like that, risking everything Graham’s worked so hard for. Maybe?—
No. I’m done letting that voice in my head control me. Graham kissed me. He wanted me. They all want me.
Graham nods, raises his hand to us, then turns and follows the security guard down the hallway, where he’s going to, apparently, have a private audience with the Vice President of the United States.
A moment after Graham disappears, Travis steps in close to Ryan and me again, dipping his head and lowering his voice. “We need to talk. Not here.”
Five minutes later, after an elevator ride crackling with tension, we arrive at the top floor of the hotel, and Travis scans a key card to let us into a private suite.
Maybe someday, I’ll get used to the glamor, the luxury of this space. But now, my mouth drops open, and I bring my hand up to cover it as I take in the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city twinkling beyond, the gleaming stainless steel, and the polished marble.
It might not be my personal style, but I can admit that the Onyx properties are stupidly beautiful.
“What changed your mind?” Ryan asks, tugging me into his chest, hugging me, his breath warm in my ear.
I hug him back, hear the distant clatter of Travis at the drink cart. “I realized I didn’t have to let this go. You guys make me happy, and the fact that our love looks different, that other people don’t understand, that’s not?—”
Ryan pulls back, his chin softening as he stares down at me with those blue, blue eyes. “Love, huh?”
My throat bobs, but instead of denying it, instead of running from it, I nod. His hands tighten on my hips, and he leans down to kiss me.
Travis interrupts, holding out a drink between our faces.
“Alex is taken care of.”
Ryan and I pull back from each other. I take the drink, eyes wide as I look at Travis. For the first time since Alex barged into his office that day, he seems to be genuinely relaxed.
“So, you did take out a hit,” Ryan jokes, paling slightly when Travis doesn’t refute it.
A slow, steady smile stretches over Travis’s face. “No. Worse.”
I frown, “Worse?”
“I figured if Priscilla was doing a number on the family finances, she probably wasn’t being too careful with their taxes. After you mentioned her firing the counsel, I figured that counsel would include tax attorneys, too.”
“You went to the IRS?” Ryan asks, breathlessly.
Travis grins, and the sight of it is beautiful. “I have a friend there. Asked him to look into the case. He said since Stephen’s death, not a single year has been filed correctly. They owe millions in back taxes, and that’s not counting the fees and potential jail time.”
Maybe the thought of Alex going to jail should make me feel bad. I picture my things on the lawn, his entitlement, him calling me a slut, and that concern just doesn’t come.
“So, he’s going to be way too busy dealing with IRS trouble to muster up a smear campaign against us,” Ryan muses.
“Especially now that everything is out in the open,” Travis agrees, turning to look at me. This time, his eyes are a soft golden brown, and I love them. I love him.
So I say it.
“I love you,” I whisper, stepping in close, cupping my hands around his jaw, kissing him tenderly. His arm wraps around my back, drawing me in close, so our stomachs press together.
“I love you too, Serena. I have for a while.”
As Travis and I kiss, I feel Ryan behind me, tugging at the zipper of my dress so it loosens around my shoulders and falls down around my chest.
“I love you even more than he does,” Ryan boasts. “Don’t forget that.”
I giggle, and my whole body feels bubbly, like a bottle of champagne someone shook up. “I love you too, Ryan.”
He trails hot kisses over the top of my back and along my spine. Travis’s hands slide down to my waist, then bunch in the fabric of my dress, pulling it down so my torso is bare.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Ryan’s voice comes out in a low growl, and I feel it rumble over my skin. “So fucking perfect.”
Travis nods his agreement as he drops his mouth to my neck, my collarbone.
Ryan takes my shoulders and turns me so I’m facing him, picking up where Travis left off. Now, Travis’s the one at my back, making my skin prickle when he drags a single knuckle down the length of my spine.
A moan slips out of me when Ryan dips his head, taking one of my nipples in his mouth. Behind me, Travis braces a hand on my hip and slides his other hand between my legs, dragging his fingers through where I’m hot and wet for them both.
“Serena.” My name comes out ragged, a plea.
I can’t say anything in response to that—not when my senses are overloaded with the feel of Ryan’s teeth and tongue on my breasts, Travis’s hard, warm body behind me, his fingers circling gently and consistently around my clit.
The guys walk me back to the bed, Travis behind me, Ryan in front. My dress falls to the ground, and I find myself sitting at the edge of the bed in Travis’s lap as he spreads my legs, hands on the insides of my thighs, holding me open.
Ryan drops to his knees, looking up at me, his eyes sapphire, cerulean—something I can’t describe. The color shows the depth and the feeling, and I hear myself saying it again: “I love you.”
Travis holds me open as Ryan tastes me, slides his tongue inside me and over my clit, pressing at the most tender part of me.
Then, when Travis’s hands move from my thighs, Ryan takes over, spreading my legs as Travis drops one hand under my ass, sliding two fingers inside me, and bringing his other palm to my throat.
Just like the first time, my pulse jumps.
But this time, instead of raw desire, there’s something more. Centered in my chest, pulsing, spiraling out through every other part of my body.
As they touch me with tongues and teeth and fingers, I say it again and again, the words like a chant, like a spell, like a promise.
“I love you, I love you, I love you.”