Chapter 16
Savannah
After a quick shower in their humongous shower stall—for the second time this week—I towel off and reach for the clean clothes Todd left me. The pants are too long and loose around my waist, but I cinch the drawstring tightly and roll up the legs so I don’t trip. The fresh t-shirt and hoodie are also oversized, but the fabric’s softness is a comfort.
The clothes aren’t as wide as the shirt I had on last night. I bring the hoodie to my nose. It’s Todd’s. He smells like the woods after rain—evergreen needles crushed underfoot, a hint of sea salt, and something warmer underneath, like sunbaked cedar or worn leather. There’s a faint trace of sweat, too, not sharp or sour, just... real. Alive. The kind of scent that sinks into your skin and stays there. Colton smells different. His scent is darker and heavier somehow, like leather and a touch of smoke. It’s rougher, more intense. I didn’t realize I could tell them apart by scent alone. Now I’m not sure I’ll ever forget.
Both men are muscled and gorgeous, but where Todd is more sleekly built like an athlete, Colton has wider shoulders and more bulk. He also has some amazing tattoos I couldn’t study but I’m tempted to trace with my tongue.
Whoa, doggie. Down, girl. You’re acting like a bitch in heat.
The rich scent of coffee beans and hot cheese drifts up from downstairs, making my stomach tighten with hunger. I hurry down the steps and into the kitchen, where Todd greets me with a smirk and a steaming mug.
I practically inhale the coffee, and he chuckles, topping off my mug as soon as I lower it.
“Sit,” he says.
Colton slides a plate in front of me—golden, crispy grilled cheese sandwiches. My stomach growls in approval.
Damn. A girl could get used to this.
They sit on either side of me. They do this often—flanking me, bracketing me between them like they’re staking some silent claim.
I like it.
Todd clears his throat, starts to speak, stops again.
That’s… different. Todd isn’t the kind of man who hesitates. He’s the kind of guy who says what he means without dancing around it.
A knot forms in my stomach. I tighten my grip around the mug.
He’s looking at me like I might break. Like I’m fragile.
Shit. Is that what they think?
I had a full-blown panic attack in the woods—lost time, couldn’t speak, couldn’t move.
And maybe I am broken.
Maybe they see it.
“Do you think I’m mentally unstable?” I arch a brow.
“What?” He rears back like I’ve just smacked him. “Fuck no.”
“Then why are you struggling to speak?”
Colton lets out a low, rumbling laugh.
“What?” I shift my gaze between them.
“He’s just trying to figure out how to tell you we want you.” Colton is straight to the point as always.
They… what? My breath catches. My heart is starting a happy tap-dance behind my ribcage, but something else swells behind it—relief, longing, the ache of wanting something I didn’t think I was allowed to want.
I’ve been holding back since the moment I set foot in this town. Holding back my grief. My desire. My fear.
And I’ve been holding back from them.
But the truth is—I’m tired. Tired of second-guessing myself. Tired of pretending I don’t crave the way they look at me. Tired of the walls I’ve built so high I can’t see over them anymore.
Maybe this is reckless. Maybe it’s messy and complicated. But it’s real.
And I want it.
“Oh.” It’s all I manage to say but the word feels full of everything I can’t quite express.
Todd leans in, eyes locked on mine. “What does ‘oh’ mean?”
I can’t help myself—I tease him. “You mean in general? ‘Oh’ is an exclamation of surprise or?—”
Todd growls.
Not a metaphorical growl. An actual deep, reverberating sound that rolls through me like a physical thing, lighting up every nerve ending in my body.
Heat slides low in my belly, liquid and wanting. My voice is breathy when I admit, “I want you, too.” I turn to Colton, snaring his gaze with mine. “Both of you.”
* * *
Todd
She wants us. Both of us!
My heart soars, and I act on instinct. I jump up, grab Savannah by the waist, and lift her from her seat.
With her securely in my arms, I ignore the clatter when her chair topples over and drops to the kitchen floor.
“Todd!” She clings to my shirt. “What are you doing?”
“We”—I stare at my brother, who grins back—“are going to make love to you.”
“Damn straight.” Colton rises, sets our starling’s chair upright, and gestures for the stairs. “After you.”
I take the staircase two steps at once and shoulder my way into the large bedroom—our bedroom.
Reverently, I lay her down onto the rumpled bedsheets.
Colton moves to stand next to me, and we tower over her.
Savannah props herself up on her elbows. The too-large hoodie and shirt have slipped off her shoulder, revealing creamy white skin.
“Are you going to stare at me or do me?”
“Sassy little minx, isn’t she?” I turn to my brother.
He hums. “That she is.” He folds his arms in front of his chest and gives her a disapproving frown. “I believe you’re topping from the bottom, starling.”
“Ah, but we didn’t agree on any power exchange, did we?”
Colton strokes his beard. We both have them, but his is longer as I keep my facial hair about half an inch, which makes it always look like a week’s worth of growth.
“You’re right. We didn’t.”
“Well, since we haven’t, we didn’t establish who’s the bottom.”
I start laughing. “Oh, sweetheart, we all know who that’s going to be. We’re dominant men, and you like that about us.”
She cocks her head like she’s contemplating my words, but her whole demeanor has softened. “Yeah, I do.”
At her admission, my cock surges to life, and honestly, I don’t know how my knees don’t buckle. “I’ve wanted you from the moment we met.” I place one knee on the bed and cup her face. I brush my thumb over her lower lip. “Do you have any idea how hard I am for you right now?”
She bites her lip. When she tries to shake her head, my hold on her face hampers the movement.
A small hand curls over the bulge in my denims and squeezes.
“Bad subbie.” Colton gets on the bed on her other side. “Do I need to bind those wayward hands of yours?”
Fuck me. “Her pupils just dilated. Do you like bondage, Savannah?”
“I do, Sir.”
The use of the last word shows me she’s slipping into a submissive mindset. I don’t miss Colton’s harsh intake of breath, despite my elation at her admission. My brother is staring at her like she’s a juicy salmon and he’s a bear coming out of hibernation.
“You,” he croaks, then clears his throat. “You like being bound and helpless?”
She bites her lips and nods. “I do. At least, when I get a safeword. Do ‘green,’ ‘yellow,’ and ‘red’ work for you?”
We exchange glances, and I must adjust my dick to a more comfortable position behind my fly. “Stoplight system works fine for me.”
“And for me,” Colton adds.
Maybe we should slow down and talk more, but right now we’re all wound tight and need the tension release. However, we must be careful not to cross any hard limits.