Chapter 29
EVE
It was a whole hell of a lot of pressure, making sure Haze’s first time was everything he had hoped it would be.
He’d put so much effort into the night, from my lingerie and dress to the rose petals, dinner…
I knew I had to take charge in bed to soothe his nerves, but I never expected to enjoy being the one in control.
Nor had I expected he would be so irresistibly compliant.
When I’d encouraged him to finish as quickly as he needed to in that first round, it wasn’t exactly a selfless suggestion, because he’d had me so worked up through the evening that by the time I finally sat on his dick, I was ready to explode.
Thankfully, my instincts were spot on. Haze had a staggeringly fast refractory period. Like…didn’t even fully pull out before he started getting hard again, which led to a very energetic and thoroughly satisfying night.
Haze was, to no surprise, a very quick learner. As it turned out, his favorite position—and we really did test them all—was lying back against his pillows and watching as I rode his cock like my own personal fucktoy.
We both passed out somewhere around dawn, exhausted, sweaty, sore, and sticky as all hell.
I desperately needed a shower, but I needed sleep more.
Haze was of the same opinion, tucking me into his body like the absolutely perfect big spoon he was, whispering how much he loved me as I drifted into sleep.
When I woke up again, I needed to double take at the time on Haze’s bedside clock. Surely it wasn’t the afternoon already? There’s no way we had just slept past lunchtime…had we?
Then again, the ache in my body—and between my damn legs—when I carefully slithered out of Haze’s heavy embrace, suggested that yes, we had slept that long, and yes, we had needed it.
But now I was desperate to pee and shower.
So much shower. I stole one of Haze’s T-shirts and slipped quietly out of his room, nearly tripping over something left in the hallway in the process.
“Ow, what the shit?” I whispered out loud after silently closing Haze’s door. My foot hurt from a sharp corner, and I picked up the offending object with confusion.
It was a trophy. A Golden Globe to be more precise, with a Post-it note over the plaque reading “Haze Michaels, for finally losing his V-Card.”
Brodie. Funny-ass motherfucker.
The door opened behind me, and I turned with the trophy still clutched in my hands, the Post-it visible for Haze to see. He narrowed his eyes on the object, and then shook his head, before his gaze softened as it landed on my face.
“Where are you sneaking off to, Evie?” he murmured, voice thick with sleep, and the slow heat of arousal that remained a steady simmer between us.
With a brief smile, I awarded him his trophy, and he took it like I’d just thrust a cobra into his face. “Shower,” I blurted, since that was the whole explanation, and then I popped up to kiss his lips before I hurried off down the hall and into the bathroom.
The house was quiet but by the time I made it downstairs, dressed in jeans and one of the guy’s hoodies—Connor’s I was fairly sure, though I had quite the collection at this point—and found that everyone was in the kitchen.
“Morning,” I said cheerily, though I knew it was closer to lunchtime, but who was counting.
Unless it was me counting orgasms, of which I was certainly well ahead.
Four strained faces turned in my direction, and one smirking Haze, who was dishing up everyone’s food. “What’s going on?” I asked, dropping into my usual place at the island.
Brodie cleared his throat, blue eyes darkening as his gaze darted between the plate in front of him and the big, silent man still smiling in that terrifying way. “Uh, we were just congratulating Haze on finally losing his V-card. You know, the usual brother-husband love.”
“And I made them breakfast as a thank you,” Haze rumbled, a hint of darkness in that sentence. “Now, eat up, brothers.”
Andrew, already dressed in his button-down and slacks, all perfectly pressed, hugged his coffee like it was a lifeline, and warily eyed the scrambled eggs and toast on the plate in front of him.
“You know, I don’t think I’m too hungry after all,” he said, the refinement in his tone stronger than ever. “Had a huge dinner last night.”
He made to get up, but Haze reached out and dropped a big hand on his shoulder, holding him in place. “I insist. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
Connor made a sound that almost sounded like laughter.
He was flipping his blade in his hand over and over, which could be construed as a warning, except I wasn’t sure why he would need that.
It was only when Haze dropped a plate in front of me, and Ethan lurched for it, as if to tear it away, that I figured out what the issue was.
A burst of laughter escaped me, and I pressed my hand to my mouth, but there was no stemming that sound. “You can’t possibly think Haze would poison me?” I said to them, still chuckling. “You four, on the other hand…”
I took a big bite of perfectly fluffy eggs, and the big man himself leaned over the table and pressed his lips to mine, seemingly uncaring that I’d barely managed to swallow my food.
“I would never hurt you, baby,” he said.
The collective hush that followed was only broken by Connor’s blade falling with a thud to the countertop.
“I can’t look away,” Brodie said in a hushed tone. “Are you seeing this? I know our boy has finally grown up—”
Haze’s fist shot out to the side, and he never broke eye contact with me, even as his hit landed true and Brodie yelped.
“Eat your fucking eggs, Brodie,” Haze snarled when he finally moved away, leaving me flushed and squirming in my chair. He eyeballed all the guys until they each sheepishly pulled their eggs closer.
Connor was the only one to eat them confidently, as if he really didn’t care if he was poisoned or about to live in the bathroom thanks to Haze’s fascination with chemistry.
The others, though, looked like they were eating their last meal, and it was only once we were all done, and no one had died or vomited, that the green tinge left Brodie’s golden face.
The rest of the morning went smoothly. I cleaned the kitchen with Andrew, and our conversation was warm and comforting, which I was coming to expect when I was around him lately. “Let’s get to class,” he said, when everything was cleaned to his standards.
I had really started to enjoy how particular he was with cleanliness and order in the house. When my life was chaotic, I always knew it would be a haven of calm here in Bluebell House, and there was a real comfort in that.
We didn’t have the same afternoon classes, so Andrew left me at the door, and I wandered in to take my usual seat in the middle of the room.
My mind was still on last night, finally being with Haze in a way I had always hoped for but never expected.
His touch aversion would always be a part of him, and I’d forever respect any boundaries or space he needed, but I knew after last night that I was his exception.
I could touch our big guy, and he wanted that sensation against his skin.
“All right, don’t forget the online quiz on Friday, and you only have two weeks until your final project is due,” Professor Flannigan cut through my thoughts as he wrapped up the class that I’d barely heard a word in.
We were far too close to the end of semester for me to be daydreaming and taking exactly one paragraph of notes, so I decided to get my ass to the library and catch up on what I’d missed.
When I exited the room, a shiver traced down my spine, and with it came the weirdest sensation of being watched. I turned, expecting it was one of my guys, only to find a man in between the classrooms, leaned against the bricks, hoodie pulled up, face hidden in the shadows.
Another trickle of unease filled me. There was no one else in the vicinity that could be causing such a sensation.
When the figure didn’t move, I decided I was being a little paranoid and clutched my books closer as I hurried off to the library.
When I stepped through the familiar double doors, I made sure to find a table in a crowded section, so I wasn’t stupidly wandering alone in less traveled areas.
Even if that creepy guy wasn’t stalking me, it didn’t hurt to remain on the cautious side after the attack with Andrew.
Meadowridge was safe, hence why the guys were okay leaving me alone on occasion, but nowhere was completely safe.
Settling in with my books, I read over the chapters we’d covered in class today, forcing my mind not to wander again to last night.
Or that creepy feeling of being watched.
It worked for a few hours too, but when my phone chimed from Ethan, asking me if I was heading home and if he could walk me, that sensation of being watched slithered through me again.
Forcing myself not to react, I breathed deeply and looked around as if stretching my neck muscles after hours of study.
There was no sign of anyone nearby, but I still shot a message back to Ethan telling him I’d love an escort.
He met me at the front of the library, and I forced my jittery nerves down, which was easier once he was with me.
“You okay, Lillith?” he said softly, both of us aware that we were very public, and there was already some scrutiny around our relationship.
Hence the four feet distance between us as we started for Bluebell House.
“Yeah, I think so,” I said, lifting my backpack higher to ease the weight. Ethan’s hands twitched. He looked frustrated that he couldn’t reach out and take it from me. “Let’s talk more at home.”