22. Grace
22
GRACE
T he house is a lot nicer than most in Driftwood Cove. I mean, Jake has money, but this? This is something else.
Open floor plan, sleek furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the town. A whole damn bar setup in the corner—that’s new.
“Damn, Jake,” Rowan mutters. “This is… nice.”
Jake smirks, tossing his keys on the counter. “What, you thought I lived in a shack?”
Ash whistles low, flopping onto the couch. “I thought you had some frat boy setup. Beer cans, old couch, posters of half-naked girls.”
Jake snorts. “I have class, asshole.”
I wander toward the kitchen, opening the fridge. It’s fully stocked—fresh fruit, fancy bottled water, cold cuts arranged like they belong in a gourmet deli. I grab a water bottle, twist it open, and take a long sip.
Rowan slides up beside me, nudging my arm. “Drink more.”
I roll my eyes but keep drinking.
Jake’s watching us from the counter, arms crossed. “You sobering up?”
“Getting there.”
He grins and reaches under the counter, pulling out a bottle of tequila. “Then let’s fix that.”
Ash laughs, grabbing glasses. “I like how you think.”
We settle in the living room. Jake pours, and we drink. The warmth spreads slowly, loosening my limbs, making everything a little softer around the edges.
“Game time,” Jake announces.
Ash raises a brow. “Strip poker?”
Jake shakes his head. “Too slow.” He turns to me. “Truth or dare?”
I smirk. “Dare.”
His grin sharpens. “Kiss Ash.”
I barely hesitate before leaning over, pressing my lips to Ash’s. It’s soft, teasing. He deepens it, his hand sliding to my waist. When I pull back, he’s smirking.
“My turn,” Ash says. “Rowan, truth or dare?”
“Dare,” Rowan says without missing a beat.
Ash’s eyes glint. “Lose the shirt.”
Rowan just shrugs, grabbing the hem and yanking it off.
He grins. “Jake, truth or dare?”
“Dare.”
Rowan leans in, whispering something in his ear. His grin widens before he grabs my hand and pulls me onto his lap.
Jake’s hands rest on my hips, fingers sliding under my dress. “You good?”
I nod, my breathing a little unsteady.
Jake kisses me—slow and deep, like he’s savoring it. I melt against him, fingers threading into his hair.
Ash watches, eyes dark. “My turn.”
He shifts closer, fingers brushing my inner thighs.
Rowan grins. “Dare?”
Ash looks at me. “Let me taste you.”
Heat shoots through me.
Jake’s grip tightens on my waist. “Shit.”
Ash doesn’t wait for an answer—he pulls me onto the couch, pushing my dress up and dragging my underwear down.
His mouth is on me before I can think, tongue stroking, teasing, until my hands are in his hair, my head falling back.
Jake watches, eyes hooded. Rowan laughs, stretching out beside us.
Ash doesn’t stop until I break apart, body shaking.
I barely have time to catch my breath before Jake grins and leans in. “Think I can do better.”
I laugh, breathless. “That a challenge?”
Jake smirks. “You tell me.”
The night blurs into touches, kisses, laughter, and more tequila. It’s easy, natural, like we’ve been doing this forever.
It’s not until I wake up at 5 a.m., body burning, that I remember where I am.
The room is dimly lit, the air thick with warmth and the scent of tequila and something darker, something mine. I wake up, hazy but not confused, body already thrumming, skin hot, desperate for relief.
I’m in heat again.
But this time, I don’t panic.
Jake’s beside me, shirtless, the sheets tangled around his waist. His breathing is deep, steady. I shift, pressing into his warmth, my lips at his jaw as I whisper, “Jake.”
He stirs, letting out a lazy grunt before his arm tightens around me, pulling me in. “Mm?”
I slide a leg over his hip, pressing closer. “I need you.”
His eyes open, sharp green cutting through the haze of sleep. Then understanding dawns, his gaze darkening, his hand sliding up my back. “Yeah?”
I nod, rolling my hips against him, chasing friction. His fingers press in, grip firm, grounding. “You’re burning up,” he murmurs.
“I know,” I breathe. “Help me.”
He shifts, rolling me beneath him, mouth finding mine in a kiss that’s slow at first, teasing, his lips tracing mine before his tongue sweeps in, stealing my breath.
His weight settles, heavy and perfect, and I arch into it, needing more, needing everything.
He pulls back just enough to smirk down at me. “You sure?”
“Yes,” I whisper, my nails digging into his back, urging him on.
His lips trail down my throat, his breath warm against my skin. His hands slide over my body, savoring me. But I’m burning, desperate, and I whimper when he takes his time.
“Patience, sweetheart,” he murmurs, dragging his mouth lower.
I gasp as he kisses down my stomach, teasing, tasting, leaving me gasping and writhing beneath him.
His name falls from my lips, breathless and pleading, and I hear movement from across the room.
Ash shifts, his voice thick with sleep. “You two starting without us?”
Jake grins against my skin, looking up at me with mischief in his eyes. “What do you think?”
My cheeks flush, but there’s no shame, just heat, just need. I glance over to see Rowan watching, amusement flickering in his gaze. “Figures,” he mutters.
But then Ash is moving closer, his fingers skimming my wrist, a silent question in his touch. “Want some help?”
I nod, and that’s all the invitation they need.
Jake kisses me again, rougher now, fingers threading through my hair as Ash’s lips find my shoulder, and Rowan’s grip slides over my waist.
It’s too much, yet not enough. My breaths come quicker, the teasing unbearable, and I grab at Jake’s shoulders, needing him closer, needing more.
“You’re insatiable,” Rowan murmurs, but there’s no teasing in his tone, just something darker, possessive.
Jake nips at my bottom lip, grinning. “Good thing we’re all here.”
I whine with need. They are here, but they’re teasing me. I need them inside me.
“Move over,” Ash says, his tone bossy and direct.
I can hear Jake getting ready to protest and I silence him with a kiss. “He’s never had a turn,” I whisper.
Jake signs and acquiesces, moving away.
“God, you smell good,” Ash murmurs to me as he lays his weight on top of me. I moan and lift my hips, anxious now for release, needing a knot, needing… just needing.
“Did you both knot her?” he asks the others.
“Yes,” I say for them. “Hurry.”
He chuckles, the sound rumbling through my own body where our chests touch, and then I can feel the head of his cock against my wetness. I lift my hips demanding, sheathing myself around him abruptly.
He gasps, and sinks into my heat instinctually, and we both moan at the friction. He starts moving slowly, but it’s not enough.
“Harder,” I demand, pressing against him, our hipbones grinding together.
He doesn’t reply. He just makes a low noise in the back of his throat and drives into me harder, deeper, causing me pleasure that almost feels like pain.
That’s when it hits me—he’s huge. So huge that he’s stretching me in new ways that almost hurt. I love it.
“I’m so close,” I plead, my head moving on the pillow.
“Knot her,” Rowan says to Ash, and he does with a loud cry.
It’s painful again, probably due to his size, but the pain is quickly chased by a rush of pleasure so intense that I immediately shatter with a scream.
I feel my slick wash over my thighs as I shake and twist, keening and keening through my release.
Ash groans loudly as he surrenders to his own pleasure, knotted tightly within me, his huge cock throbbing deliciously as we ride the waves.
“God, that was hot,” Jake says. “Roll her a little to the side, Ash.”
“What?” I ask, but then I feel Jake slipping in behind me, his cock tickling against my thigh. And then he’s sliding inside of me as well, the stretch almost too much.
“Oh, God!” I squeak, pressing back so I can take him deeper, adjusting to the feel of him stretching me as pleasure flares to life within me again.
“I want to come,” I beg.
“Not yet,” Rowan growls. He uses his hands to shift everyone around until I’m lying on top of Ash with my ass in the air.
Jake’s cock is twitching inside of me, desperate for release, but I can hear from his breathing that he’s holding back.
“Deep breath, baby,” Rowan says, and then his cock is at my pucker and my eyes fly open.
“Deep breath,” he reminds me, and then he’s pushing inside as well, and I instantly explode into a thousand pieces, crying, gasping their names.
By the time we collapse into a tangle of limbs, my body is still humming, the heat less desperate, the tension finally unwound. Jake strokes my hair lazily, Ash chuckles softly, and Rowan hands me a bottle of water.
“Drink,” he orders.
I groan but take it, sipping as my heart slows, my body sinking into the mattress.
“Good girl,” Jake murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple.
I huff a laugh. “You guys always take such good care of me.”
Rowan smirks. “Of course. You’re ours.”
The warmth in my chest has nothing to do with the heat I woke up with.
And as I drift back into sleep, surrounded, safe, wanted—I believe them.