Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
Zachary
She sleeps through the whole night, and then most of the next day, and by the time Saturday evening rolls round, the house has settled into a kind of held-breath quiet that will only release when she properly wakes.
I find Rhys exactly where I left him hours ago, sitting at the foot of the bed with his back against the frame, watching her breathe like he can't take his next breath until she takes hers.
I put a hand on his shoulder and whisper, “Hey, man, you really should get some rest.”
“I'm fine.”
“Yeah, and so is she. She's past the danger zone. You need sleep.”
He shakes his head, even as he rubs his dark-rimmed eyes. “I need to be here when she wakes up.”
My heart aches for him. Whatever is going on with them is breaking him. I know exactly what that's like. “And you will be. Just down the hall. I'll call you the second she asks for you.”
“But—”
“Rhys. I promise.”
He looks at her for a long moment, then finally relents. He leans over her sleeping form, brushes his knuckles along her cheek, and says something to her too low for me to catch. Then he goes, without another word, past me and out the door.
I strip down to a pair of pyjama pants and slide into the bed beside her. She stirs, eyes fluttering half open.
“Hey, Zachary,” she says with a smile so sweet I almost forget the worry still coursing through my body. “Where's Rhys?”
“I told him to go get some rest. I can call him back if you want him.”
“No.” Her voice is thick with sleep, but there's no hesitation in it. “I tried to tell him to get some sleep whenever I woke up. But I think he stayed with me all night.”
“He did.” I settle in next to her, careful of the bruising along her hip. “He was out of his mind worried about you. We all were.”
There's a little cheeky sparkle in her eye that sends a cool wave of relief through me. She's coming back to herself. “Really? You as well? Worried over little ol' me. I thought you were done with me.”
I let out a short laugh, more breath than sound. It doesn't cover the regret in my chest for the things I said to her. “Lex. I nearly took a paramedic's head off for making me wait three minutes to see you. Worried doesn't cover it.”
“I like that.” A tiny yawn.
“Yeah? Why's that?”
She shrugs and burrows down into the pillow, a hand by her face. “I like that you care about me.”
“You didn't really doubt that though, did you?”
She doesn't answer.
I lay my hand on top of hers, and she lets me.
“You can not possibly comprehend how much I care about you. There is no value high enough to express what you mean to me.” We talk for a while, low and quiet, just catching up on what's happened over the last twenty-four hours.
It's easy, like it's always been. Just her and me.
At one point she smiles and looks up at me, eyes sleepy, and then I'm leaning in to kiss her.
Soft and slow, sweet and secretive, something just between us.
Her hand comes up to rest against my jaw, pressing a cool palm against my skin but burning forever into my DNA.
When we break apart I stroke a hand over her hair. “Get some more sleep. I'll be here when you wake up.”
She nods once and is out again within seconds.
I don't know how much later it is when something shifts the mattress and pulls me half out of sleep. I crack an eye open and find Marcus climbing onto the bed on her other side, careful not to jostle her.
Neither of us says anything. There's nothing to say. We just look at each other over the top of her head for a second, and then it's understood — the same wordless understanding that's made the four of us such good friends and business partners all these years.
I don't sleep, just enjoying the feel of her body shifting with her breath under my hand on her hip.
She wakes a while after that, blinking up at Marcus first.
“Hey... how are you?” she mutters.
“How am I?” He huffs out a little incredulous laugh. “How are you?”
She scoffs. “I'm fine. You lot are making way too big a fuss.”
“There's no such thing as too big a fuss.” He runs a thumb along her cheek, careful of the cut and bruise near her hairline, and leans down to kiss her, natural, like they've been doing it for years. When he pulls back his voice has gone rough. “Just glad to see you smiling, Lexi-Lou.”
I'm not entirely sure what to do with the sight of it, watching him with her like that, some knot in my chest tightening. I pull her back gently into me instead, and Marcus rolls his eyes but doesn't fight it, just shifts closer instead of away.
“You look beautiful, baby,” he tells her.
“I have bed head.”
“Call it whatever you want.” I press my mouth to her shoulder. “You've never looked better to me. To either of us.”
I run my fingers down the length of her arm and feel the goosebumps rise under my hand, hear the soft sound she makes low in her throat.
Marcus leans in and kisses her again, and she leans into it, and I brush the hair back off her neck and start laying slow kisses along her skin, working my way down, unable to resist the feel of her against my lips.
She reaches back and slides her fingers into my hair. Then she pulls away from Marcus just far enough to twist toward me and kiss me as well.
“Is this okay?” I ask against her mouth.
She nods, then pulls back enough to look between the two of us. “Is it okay with you two?”
Marcus and I look at each other over her shoulder. There really isn't a question. I think we've both known it would end up like this.
“We just want to be with you,” I tell her. “If you'll have us.”
She's quiet for a second, then kisses me again, and after that turns and presses her mouth against his again, and I take that as answer enough. While she's still kissing Marcus she reaches back for my hand and guides it under the hem of her shirt, up, until my palm is full of her.
“Lex.” I stop, murmuring low. “You need to recover. You're not ready for this.”
“No.” She catches my hand before I can pull it back, voice quiet but certain.
“I want this. I need this. I need to feel you, feel both of you, after everything that happened.” Her eyes hold mine, desperate, wanting.
“If you don't want to, I understand. But I want this. And I know you'll be careful with me.”
Something in my chest gives way at that, at her asking so directly for the one thing I wasn't sure I was allowed to give her yet. “Okay.” My voice comes out rougher than I mean it to. “Slow. The second anything hurts, or you want us to stop for any reason, you tell us. I mean it.”
“I promise.”
Marcus leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead. “We've got you. Just say the word if you need us to stop.”
She nods, and the careful, held-breath quality of the last day gives way to something else entirely. Something hot and dark and needy. The same feeling that's been living inside me since she moved in.
I roll her nipple gently between my fingers while I kiss along her neck, and she moans into Marcus's mouth. I make it my goal to make her make that sound again.
We help her sit up long enough to pull the shirt off over her head, and then she's completely bare in front of both of us, and Marcus goes still for a second just looking at her before he gently turns her so she's facing me instead.
“Show him, baby.” His voice is rough like sandpaper. “Show him how fucking gorgeous you are.”
She leans back against his chest, and his hands come up, cupping her breasts, thumbs working slow circles over her nipples while he drags his mouth along her neck, watching me watch her the whole time.
I can't look away. My hand's already moving over the front of my own pyjama pants, cock impossibly hard at the sight of her.
“Zachary.” My name comes out throaty and heady as she reaches out and slides her hand past my waistband, wrapping around me, and I groan, hips pushing into her grip on instinct.
I lean down and take one nipple into my mouth, and Marcus slides a hand down between her thighs. He whispers something in her ear that sounds like “spread your legs for me.” Her knees separate as his fingers dip between her thighs, drawing a little breath out of her.
“Fuck, she's soaked already. Aren't you, baby? You like the thought of the both of us here watching you, wanting to fuck you?” His voice is wrecked. “You're not going to believe how good she feels. Just go slow with her.”
I lift my head to look at her properly. “I'm never going to hurt you. You know that.”
“I know.” Her hand tightens around me, stroking firm and slow. “I trust you. I want you, Zachary. I want to feel you inside me.” Her fingers curl tighter. “I want to feel how thick you are, stretching me open.”
I shed the rest of my clothes while Marcus helps her onto her back, and then both of us are bent over her, mouths at her breasts, loving the sound of her little breaths as her pleasure builds.
She reaches out for the both of us at once, stroking both hands in unison.
I can't believe she's touching me like this.
I'm barely holding on by the time I give up and gently move her to her side, settling in behind her, pressing her top leg forward, positioning myself.
“How do you want me, sweetheart? Bare? You have to know I'd only ever do it with you. But it's up to you. Always.”
She just reaches behind and grabs my cock and positions me against her. “I want to feel you. I trust you.” Then she looks over at Marcus. “But you both have to agree, it's not just my decision.”
Marcus looks over at me and gives me a nod. “I trust you. Do you trust me? No hard feelings if you don't want to do this.”
And as much as there are parts of this that are hard for me, I know that I can trust him on this.
I press a kiss to her shoulder and slide one hand under her head and the other on her thigh. “You're about to feel me, sweetheart, all of me, in you. Are you ready?”
She bites her lip and locks her eyes with me, pressing back against my cock in answer, and it takes everything I have not to ram into her.