Chapter 13
Sloane
The clubhouse is unusually quiet. It’s not empty, it never is, but it’s quiet in an unfamiliar way. Most of the men are out. The garage noise is distant, muted. Even the usual low hum of voices in the main room is gone.
Jessy is at school. She’s safe, happier now she has a bit of normality back, a routine.
I can breathe a little easier knowing she is adjusting to the situation.
For the first time in days, there’s space, which somehow makes everything feel more deliberate.
I’m no longer reacting or acting on adrenaline.
No one is forcing me to do this; I’m making a choice.
I stand in the hallway outside Rook’s room, my pulse already too fast, my mind running ahead of me even as my hand hovers just inches from the door.
I knock once, and the door opens almost immediately, like he was waiting just behind it.
Rook stands there, his broad shoulders filling the frame, a dark shirt stretched across his chest. His eyes linger knowingly on me like he knew it would be me before I even knocked.
For a second, neither of us speaks. The air between us is already tight. It feels charged with energy.
“You’re sure about this?” he asks, his voice low and careful, which is new. I’ve never known Rook to relinquish control, to appear uncertain.
I hold his gaze. “Yes.”
That’s all it takes. He steps back and lets me in.
Rook’s room feels different from mine, less temporary.
It’s undeniably his, a room that evokes the strong, masculine man before me.
It’s all dark wood and clean lines. Dominating the center of the room is a giant bed that looks solid enough to hold multiple people, no doubt by design.
I shake away thoughts of those who came before me.
They don’t matter. He has a past and so do I. What matters is now.
The door closes behind me with a quiet click, and he suddenly closes the distance between us, stepping closer slowly, his movements measured and careful, giving me time to stop him if I want to. I don’t.
My hands find his shirt first, gripping the fabric like I need something solid to anchor to. His body is warm under my palms, solid in a way that feels steady, grounding.
His hand slides to my waist, firm and possessive, we’re long past him asking, but he doesn’t take either.
“You walked in here like you have something to prove,” he murmurs.
“Maybe I do,” I purr, my lips softly caressing his in the barest hint of a kiss, eliciting a low rumble in his chest.
His mouth curves slightly. “Yeah?”
I don’t answer, I don’t need to. The tension snaps, and then he’s kissing me.
It’s not slow or careful now. Everything we’ve been holding back for days comes rushing forward.
The passion and pressure and something just shy of control.
I feel it everywhere. In the way his hand tightens at my waist, the way my fingers curl into his shirt, and the way my body reacts before my mind can catch up.
The door opens, we didn’t need to arrange this for everyone to know that now’s the time, if this is going to happen, it’s now or never.
I don’t pull back, I know who it is, I feel him without needing to see.
Cruz’s presence fills the room differently.
He has a sharper, faster energy that cuts through the heaviness, turning it into something electric.
“Well,” he says lightly, voice rougher than usual, “I guess we’re doing this.”
Rook doesn’t let go of me; he doesn’t even look at him. “Door’s behind you if you’ve changed your mind,” he says, only half joking.
Cruz laughs softly; the sound isn’t careless. There’s an edge to it. The tension between them hasn’t yet dissipated, but I’m hoping that’s about to change. He steps in anyway, and the shift is immediate.
The air thickens as Boone arrives, his quiet, solid presence grounding the chaotic, aggressive energy that crackles between Rook and Cruz.
He closes the door behind him with a soft, final click that settles my racing heart.
That click feels like we’ve passed the point of no return.
My first times with Cruz and Rook were chaotic and impulsive, but this is a deliberate choice.
My breath catches slightly as I pull back just enough to look at all three of them.
Rook is dark and controlled, intensity simmering just beneath the surface.
Cruz watches me like I’m a challenge he’s already decided to win.
He grins at me, his eyes asking if I’m ready to play.
Boone is as steady and grounded as always, but his eyes lock onto me with a look that speaks of something deeper, something quieter, but no less powerful.
“I meant what I said,” I tell them. My voice is softer now, but it holds steady and true. “I want all of you.”
Cruz steps closer first, of course, he does. His hand brushes my arm, his touch light and deliberate, sending a ripple of anticipation through me. “You’re sure you can handle that?” he murmurs.
I meet his eyes. “Try me.”
Cruz’s eyes light up, his grin widening at the challenge.
Rook’s hand tightens at my waist as he wrestles between what he wants, what I want, and the possessive streak within him.
Boone moves closer behind me, his presence a steady heat at my back, grounding and overwhelming at the same time.
There’s no clean line where one ends and the other begins.
As their hands move, and the space between us disappears completely, the world narrows down to breath and touch and the steady, undeniable presence of all three of them, I realize something with absolute clarity. This isn’t complicated. Not here. Not like this. This is simple.
There’s no separation. Their touch is layered, distinct in their own way, yet working in perfect harmony.
Rook’s grip is firm, anchoring me in place.
To my surprise, he and Cruz allow Boone to take the lead.
He stoops to look me in the eye, his hazel eyes are an autumn day, warm and familiar.
Tentatively, I step closer, feeling the solid bulk of his broad chest with my fingertips and stroking the blonde hair on his chest as I pull his shirt up to remove it.
He has the hard-muscled physique of a strongman rather than a bodybuilder; there are no clearly defined lines, but he oozes strength.
His calloused hands gently stroke my cheek, tilting my gaze up to his face as he leans down to kiss me, his lips surprisingly supple, his beard soft.
Boone doesn’t rush. He isn’t a whirlwind of passionate energy like Rook or Cruz.
He lifts me with ease, carrying me over to the bed and sitting me at the edge of it.
Cruz comes behind me, his touch is sharper, intentional, like he’s testing reactions as he pulls my dress over my head from behind, his fingers tweaking my nipples through the lace of my bra.
Cruz kisses my neck, his hands resting on my waist from behind, while Boone’s tongue entangles with mine.
I can feel Rook’s eyes on me, searingly hot as Boone’s hands caress my thighs, his fingers dancing along my seam as he strokes my clit through my panties.
Boone’s fingers slip my panties aside, sliding into my slick pussy as Cruz removes my bra, fondling my breasts.
My gaze shifts to Rook, and in his dark, hungry eyes I see only desire, no jealousy.
He prowls over to join us on the bed, removing his clothes as I watch the contours of his body rippling with every step.
I moan as Cruz guides me to lie down so Boone can lick my clit, his large fingers slowly gliding in and out of me.
Cruz’s mouth captures my nipple, licking and sucking it, while Rook kisses my lips, hungrily. I reach out to stroke his hard cock, familiar now with how he likes to be touched. I tentatively reach out for Cruz, hesitating before touching him.
Rook grunting, “Don’t stop,” is all the permission I need.
I take Cruz in my other hand, feeling the gentle curve as I run my hand up and down his erection. Touching both of them at the same time while Boone is going down on me feels wickedly bad in all the best ways.
Rook moves closer to my head so I can take him in my mouth. I circle my tongue around the tip of his dick, tasting the salty precum before taking him deep inside my throat. He’s so big that my jaw feels stretched. He groans my name as I pleasure him, allowing some of his control to slip.
I start to let go too, allowing myself to focus on the pleasure and sensations rather than worrying about the mechanics.
I almost lose track of whose hands are where.
Every inch of my skin is electrified under their touch.
I didn’t know it was possible to feel as if you’re intertwining with another person during sex, body and soul, let alone with three at once.
We move in perfect harmony, anticipating each other’s needs without needing to say anything.
My orgasm crests within me from Boone’s slow, methodical tongue, bringing me to a sweeter, more rounded climax. “I want you to fuck me,” I command him, needing to feel him inside me, to be with him as I have been with Rook and Cruz before him.
Boone is so much bigger than me. He must fear he’ll crush me, or that his presence will be too overpowering, too dominating with the others here, as he moves so that he can lie beneath me, guiding me slowly down onto him.
It’s only as I’m hovering over him, his erection poised at my entrance, that I realize how massive he is.
I’m grateful then that he’s handed over control, allowing me time to breathe and take him in slowly.