16. Rick
16
RICK
Saturday nights used to mean club runs and bar fights. Now, I’m sitting in my home office at eleven-thirty, reviewing reports while my mind keeps drifting to the way Evie commanded our gallery event yesterday.
The way she charmed potential donors, her confidence as she guided conversations away from MC business, and how perfectly she fits into every aspect of our lives.
Thunder rumbles in the distance, matching my restless mood. Chase is in his studio, working late on designs for tomorrow’s client, while Zane’s been oddly quiet since dinner.
The storm hits full force just after midnight, rattling windows and shaking the old oak between our houses. When the first transformer blows with a spectacular bang, the entire neighborhood plunges into darkness.
“Seriously?” Chase’s annoyed voice carries from his studio. “I was just finishing this piece.”
Zane appears in my doorway, phone lighting his face. “Power’s out all over Wolf Pike. Kip says a tree took down the main line.”
Thunder cracks overhead, making the house shudder. Through my window, I catch movement next door—a flashlight beam dancing across Evie’s living room.
“We should check on them,” I say, already reaching for my jacket. Neither brother questions who I mean.
The wind nearly knocks me sideways as we cross between houses. Rain stings my face, but Evie’s porch light is dead, and the thought of her alone in the dark with two scared kids drives me forward.
Chase reaches the door first, knocking harder than necessary to be heard over the storm. When Evie opens it, she’s backlit by candlelight, and for a moment, I forget why we’re here.
“Power’s out,” Zane states unnecessarily.
“Really? Hadn’t noticed.” But she steps back, letting us in. Water drips from our clothes onto her floor, but she doesn’t seem to mind.
The girls are curled together on the couch, a fortress of blankets around them. Violet peers out, eyes wide. “Uncle Rick!”
“Woah! You girls should be asleep.”
“We were, but the storm woke us up!” answers Violet.
“Did you bring flashlights?” Daisy asks.
“Better.” Zane produces emergency lanterns from his backpack. “Battery-powered. No fire hazard.”
“Practical.” Evie’s lips twitch. “Unlike some men who run through a storm without umbrellas.”
“We were worried about you,” Chase admits, shaking water from his hair. “Old houses, bad storms…”
“We’re fine.” But something in her expression softens. “Though the company’s nice.”
Another crack of thunder makes Daisy burrow deeper into her blankets. Without discussion, we settle in the living room—Zane entertaining the girls with shadow puppets, Chase checking windows for leaks, and me standing close enough to catch Evie’s subtle trembling.
“You okay?” I keep my voice low.
“Just memories.” She wraps her arms around herself. “Last storm this bad, we were…”
She stops, but I can guess. We don’t know yet exactly why she ran, but we get the sense that there’s more to her story. Running. Hiding. Fighting for her life with two terrified children. Before I can respond, the wind howls, and all the candles gutter.
“That’s it.” Zane scoops up Violet, who’s nearly asleep. “Sleepover in Violet’s room. Right, Daisy?”
“But the shadows…” Daisy starts.
“Will stay away,” Chase promises, gathering blankets. “Uncle Chase’s guarantee.”
I watch them head upstairs, our little parade of lantern light and assurance of nothing going haywire. This should feel strange—three men and one woman shepherding children through darkness. Instead, it feels like the right thing to do.
Evie touches my arm. “Thank you. For checking on us.”
“If we don’t take care of you and your daughters, who will?”
“Rose?” She laughs.
I look around mockingly. “Well, I don’t see her around here.”
Upstairs, the girls settle into their nest of blankets on Violet’s bed, bookended by Chase and Zane. Violet’s already drifting off, one hand clutching Zane’s shirt. Daisy makes Chase promise three times to keep the shadows away.
“Story?” she asks sleepily.
“Once upon a time,” Chase begins, “there were three brothers who found a princess and her two magical daughters…”
I catch Evie’s sharp intake of breath. When I look down, her eyes shine with something more than candlelight.
The storm rages outside, but here, we’re creating our own kind of shelter. One made of glances and gentle touches, of brothers who’ve always known how to share, and a woman strong enough to hold all our hearts.
Thunder cracks again, but the girls don’t stir. They’re safe in their bubble of uncles and stories, while something electric builds between four adults who’ve been dancing around this moment for weeks.
“They’re asleep,” Zane whispers eventually.
Evie nods. “We should…”
“Yeah.” Chase carefully extracts himself. “We should.”
The walk downstairs brings us closer to something we’ve all been orbiting. When Evie turns at the bottom, candlelight catching her face, I know tonight will change everything.
And none of us want to stop it.
Candlelight throws shadows across walls, making familiar spaces mysterious. Evie moves to the window, watching rain lash against the glass. Her silhouette reminds me of the night we watched her from Chase’s window, but this time, we’re invited into her space.
“Storm’s getting worse,” she says softly.
None of us mention leaving. The excuse of checking on them during the blackout has served its purpose. Now, we’re here because we want to be, because this thing between us has been building since she first walked into our gallery.
Chase settles on her couch like he belongs there. Zane perches on the armrest, casual but alert. I remain standing, watching her watch the storm.
“You’re thinking too loud,” Chase tells her.
“Just wondering.” She turns, candlelight catching her face. “How long we’ve been dancing around this.”
“Four months max,” Zane says with a smile.
Her laugh is soft and breathy. “I can’t argue that.”
The tension shifts as she moves away from the window. Her bare feet make no sound on hardwood floors as she approaches. When she reaches me first, it feels right. I’m the oldest, the leader, the one who should take this step.
Her kiss tastes like certainty. My hands find her waist as she presses closer. I cup her round ass, and the small sound she makes goes straight through me.
“Beautiful,” Chase murmurs from behind her.
She breaks our kiss to look at him, then at Zane. In the candlelight, her eyes hold no hesitation.
Her thin sleep shirt does little to hide her curves, and when she reaches for Chase, her nipples are already hard beneath the fabric. I watch as my brother claims her mouth, his large hands sliding under cotton to cup her breasts. She arches into his touch, making those little sounds that drive us crazy.
Zane moves behind her, his cock already hard as he presses against her ass. She’s wearing those tiny sleep shorts, making it easy for him to slide his hand between her thighs.
“Already so wet for us,” he murmurs against her neck, making her moan into Chase’s mouth.
I can’t resist anymore. Moving closer, I help Chase lift her shirt over her head. Her breasts bounce free, perfect and begging for attention. When Chase’s mouth closes around one nipple while I take the other, she clutches our heads, holding us against her.
She hisses as Zane’s fingers find her clit through damp cotton.
Chase drops to his knees, dragging those tiny shorts down her legs. She’s bare underneath, glistening in the candlelight. The sound he makes before burying his face between her thighs is almost animalistic.
She’d collapse if not for Zane holding her up. I swallow her cries with my mouth while Chase works her with his tongue. When she starts shaking, close to release, he pulls back.
“Not yet,” he says, voice rough with need. “Want to taste you upstairs. On the bed. Where we can all have you properly.”
Getting upstairs takes longer than it should. We keep stopping to touch and taste. She manages to take Zane’s shirt off, running her hands over his tattooed chest.
“I want to see all of you,” she demands, tugging at my belt. Her fingers make quick work of the leather, the sound of clinking metal mixing with our heavy breathing. While she works my zipper, Chase strips off his shirt, revealing the ink I helped design across his chest.
Evie can’t resist touching him, tracing the lines of his tattoos while she strokes my cock through my boxers.
“These need to go,” she says, releasing me to turn and pull at Zane’s jeans. He helps her, kicking them off while she explores newly exposed skin. The sight of her on her knees between my brothers, touching both of them while looking up at me with hungry eyes, nearly undoes me.
Chase tangles his fingers in her hair, guiding her mouth to his cock. She takes him eagerly, humming around his length while her hand works Zane’s. The wet sounds of her mouth and the groans she draws from Chase are almost enough to make me explode.
“Fuck, baby,” Zane hisses when she turns to give him the same attention. “Your mouth feels amazing.”
I can’t just watch anymore. Dropping to my knees behind her, I slide my hand between her legs, finding her soaked. When I press two fingers inside her, she moans around Zane’s cock, pushing back against my hand.
She alternates between my brothers, taking turns sucking and stroking them while I work her with my fingers. When my thumb finds her clit, she pulls off Zane with a gasp.
We’re all achingly hard, cocks straining as she touches and tastes. But there’s no rush, no competition between us. We learned early that sharing her pleasure only heightens our own.
Chase finally lays her out on the bed, taking a moment to admire her before settling between her thighs. He starts slow, pressing kisses to her inner thighs, making her squirm with want. When his tongue finally finds her center, she gasps, fingers clutching the sheets.
“Watch him,” Zane murmurs in her ear. “Watch how much he loves tasting you.”
She lifts her head, meeting Chase’s heated gaze as he works her with his tongue. The sight makes her moan, hips lifting to meet his mouth. He takes his time, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on her clit, learning what makes her shake.
I capture one nipple between my teeth while rolling the other between my fingers. Her body arches, caught between sensations. When Chase slides one finger inside her, then two, curling them just right, Zane muffles her cries with his hands.
“Shhh, you’re going to wake the girls up,” he whispers.
“That’s it, baby,” Chase encourages against her sensitive flesh. “Want to feel you come on my tongue.”
Zane swallows her moans with his kiss while Chase works her higher. His talented mouth and fingers find the perfect rhythm, building her pleasure until she’s trembling on the edge.
“Please,” she begs, though she’s not sure what she’s begging for. “Chase, please…”
He increases his pace, sucking her clit while his fingers press deeper. When she finally breaks, her whole body convulses.
But we’re nowhere near done with her. As she catches her breath, I move between her thighs.
“I’m going to fuck you now, honey,” I whisper to her.
I slide into her slowly, savoring how wet and tight she is. Chase moves up to kiss her breasts while Zane positions himself by her mouth. She takes Zane’s cock eagerly, moaning around him as I thrust deeper.
We’ve done this enough times to find our rhythm. Each of my thrusts pushes her further onto Zane’s cock while Chase plays with her sensitive clit. When she comes again, she takes Zane and me with her.
But the night’s just beginning. We take turns with her body, learning new ways to make her scream. Once we’ve all reached multiple orgasms, we curl around her like protection. No one speaks for a long moment, just breathing together while rain drums against the windows.
“That was…” She trails off, sounding dazed.
“Yeah.” Zane presses a kiss to her shoulder.
“Definitely,” Chase agrees from her other side.
I stroke her hair, watching candlelight play across all our skin. “You okay?”
“Perfect.” She stretches like a satisfied cat. “Though I think you broke me.”
“Give us ten minutes,” Zane teases. “We’ll break you again.”
Her laugh vibrates through all of us. Outside, thunder still rolls, but it sounds distant now. Like the storm’s moving on, leaving us in our warm bubble of aftermath.
“This should feel stranger.”
“But it doesn’t.” I understand what she means.
“Because it’s right,” Zane says simply.
We drift like that, trading lazy kisses and gentle touches. When desire builds again, it’s slower this time. More deliberate. We take turns worshiping her body until she’s boneless between us.
“Stay for a while longer?” she asks later, voice heavy with satisfaction.
None of us could leave if we wanted to. We arrange ourselves around her—Chase spooned behind her, Zane at her front, me holding them all. Her bed’s big enough, barely, but we’d make it work even if it wasn’t.
“Love you,” Evie whispers, not specifying which of us she means.
She doesn’t have to. We all know she means all of us, just like we all love her. Different kinds of love that somehow fit together perfectly.