33. Darcy
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
darcy
The TV has gone dark except for the menu screen casting a dim blue glow across the living room. The light over the kitchen sink is still on, washing the butcher block counters in warm yellow, and somewhere outside a car rolls past before the neighborhood settles again.
It takes a second for my eyes to adjust.
Then Tyler’s arm tightens around my waist when I shift, and the last few hours rearrange themselves into something recognizable.
I’m still half sprawled across him on the couch, my cheek tucked against his chest, one of his hands warm beneath the hem of my shirt.
Sometime in the last few hours Mack apparently decided my lap made a perfectly acceptable pillow because he’s stretched out beside us with his head resting there like it’s the most reasonable place in the world.
My fingers are still tangled in his hair.
I smooth my thumb once along his temple.
Mack lets out a slow breath and shifts a fraction closer without opening his eyes.
That does absolutely nothing helpful for me spiritually.
“You awake?”
Tyler’s voice is rough with sleep, making me jump.
“Barely,” I whisper back.
His thumb drags lazily against my side. Sleep-soft Tyler is disarming in a completely different way than regular Tyler—less grinning, less momentum. Just holding onto me like letting go never occurred to him.
My hand slips from Mack’s hair to the back of his neck, my thumb tracing one slow pass beneath his ear.
“Does it always stay with you?” I whisper.
Tyler’s thumb stills.
“The calls?”
I nod against his chest.
“Some of them.”
His thumb resumes its slow path along my side.
I think about the way they looked when I walked in earlier. The exhaustion underneath everything. Mack standing in the kitchen staring into the fridge like he forgot why he opened it. Tyler opening the door already looking relieved to see me before I’d even said anything.
“Yesterday felt like one that does?” I ask gently.
“Yeah.” His mouth brushes my hair. “That one stuck.”
I let my hand rest against Mack’s neck for a second, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath my palm.
“Is that why you guys usually—”
I gesture vaguely between the three of us.
Tyler doesn’t make me finish.
“Blow it off? Usually.”
His hand slides a little lower against my waist.
“Easier to outrun it for a few hours than sit there replaying everything.”
“And tonight?”
I lift my head enough to look at him and catch him glancing down toward Mack before he looks back at me. Mack hasn’t moved, but I can feel him listening now, too.
“Tonight,” Tyler says finally, “I wanted this more.”
The words nearly knock the wind from me.
His hand finds my side again, moving slowly, like he’s reassuring himself as much as me.
“This.” A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “This is different for us. New territory.”
Eye contact suddenly feels wildly overambitious.
So I do what I’ve apparently been doing a lot lately whenever my feelings start getting too close to the surface. I shift closer, my hand coming up to flatten against his chest as I look up at him in the dark, and kiss him.
Tyler melts into it instantly, cupping my cheek with a rough hand.
His other arm tightens around my waist, drawing me closer until there’s barely any space left between us. The kiss stays slow and steady in a way that feels completely foreign compared to before.
Just Tyler kissing me with so much tenderness that my chest actually aches a little from it.
I kiss him deeper as his fingers continue to trace my skin, and every sensible thought I have clocks out for the evening.
Then Mack hums against my lap.
“You two gonna keep pretending I’m not here?” He grumbles.
Tyler smiles into the kiss before pulling back just enough for both of us to look down the couch.
“You looked comfortable.”
“I was,” Mack says. “Until you weren’t subtle about it.”
I feel my face flush, which feels unfair considering I’m currently on a couch between two men I’ve slept with repeatedly, but apparently humiliation remains my default setting.
I look down at Mack anyway and find him watching me now, green eyes heavy-lidded and warm in the dark.
For one ridiculous second I wonder if I’ve somehow made this weird.
Mack doesn’t even give me the chance to think about it too hard.
“C’mere.”
I don’t hesitate.
One second I’m still half-curled against Tyler, the next the three of us shift without anybody saying another word.
Tyler’s hand slides around my waist, guiding me between them while Mack pushes himself up just enough to pull me properly against him, and then I’m in the middle again, Tyler at my back, Mack’s massive hand cradling the side of my neck.
I don’t remember deciding to move. I just remember ending up exactly where I wanted to be.
Mack kisses me, and this one feels different too. The wanting is still there. I feel it in the way his hand rests against my neck, in the way his mouth lingers on mine, but there’s no hurry underneath it anymore.
Like none of us is afraid this disappears the second we stop touching each other.
Tyler’s hand slips under my shirt from behind, skimming beneath my bra and palming my breast while Mack’s tongue glides over mine, and my whole body melts backward into Tyler without ever breaking the kiss.
Nobody tells me where to go. My body just keeps finding them.
Mack lets me up for air just long enough for me to gasp before Tyler’s free hand takes the opportunity to turn my face over my shoulder and claim my mouth while Mack’s lips find my collarbone, sending goosebumps racing over my skin.
The room shifts as they alternate between my mouth, my neck, my chest, until I stop keeping track of whose hands are where.
Mack’s tongue strokes lazily against mine again while his hand slides into my hair, tilting my head back until it rests against Tyler’s shoulder.
Behind me, Tyler’s thumb circles my nipple twice before tracing down my torso toward my waistband while his mouth ghosts along my throat, and the combined effect is catastrophic for my ability to maintain coherent thought.
“Tell us what you want, baby,” Mack growls.
This. All of us. All the time. Forever.
The thoughts arrive so fast I nearly say them out loud, which feels emotionally unsafe for everyone involved, so instead I pull Mack closer by the front of his shirt and press my lips to his harder, grazing his bottom lip with my teeth.
He understands it anyway.
“You’re ours,” he exhales against my lips.
My breath catches hard enough that both of them feel it.
“I know.”
“Say it.”
Tyler anchors me against him while they wait.
My eyes find Mack first because looking at both of them at once feels like an excellent way to short-circuit whatever’s left of my brain.
“I’m yours.”
Then I turn enough to catch Tyler’s eyes over my shoulder.
“Both of yours.”
The room goes still around us.
Mack’s breath brushes my cheek as Tyler captures my mouth immediately, deeper this time, pinning me harder against his chest. Every inch of me feels overheated and completely exposed in a way that should probably scare me more than it does.
And I don’t want less of it. I want more.
Somewhere between the couch and Tyler’s bedroom, I stop keeping track of whose hands belong to who.
Someone’s fingers catch the waistband of my pants while another hand stays firm at the back of my neck, and I barely remember crossing the loft because every few steps somebody’s mouth is on me again.
As soon as the bedroom door shuts behind us, whatever functioning thought I still had left disappears with it.
My shirt lands somewhere on the floor beside Tyler’s. Mack’s follows a second later, and my brain makes one last heroic attempt to remind me exactly how out of my depth I should feel.
But I don’t.
Tyler backs me toward the bed until the backs of my knees catch the edge of the mattress. I fall back instinctively, and he drops to one knee in front of me, making quick work of my pants before rolling me onto my stomach.
“Knees, trouble,” he commands, his voice dripping with lust.
I’m panting like a dog in heat already. I push up without thinking, arching back for him, and Tyler’s palm cracks across my ass hard enough to make my mouth fall open.
A heartbeat later, the sting gives way to the glide of his hand as he soothes the heat he’d just left behind, his mouth brushing my skin.
Mack’s already against the headboard, broad and solid, moonlight tracing the lines of his chest and the ink winding up his arm. He pushes off the bedframe closer toward me, fingers curling around my jaw as he closes the distance.
I lick my lips as he guides his hard cock toward my mouth, smearing my lips with his precum.
“You’re gonna suck on this cock while Ty makes you come on his face,” Mack says like it’s already been decided. “Then we’re both gonna fill you up like the good little cum slut you are.”
I’m so wet it’s a miracle I’m not dripping onto the sheets.
I nod a little too eagerly, earning a wicked smile from Mack. Without another word, he glides between my lips with a low groan and my eyes close because holy fuck.
“I love this mouth,” he hisses.
I hum around him and feel him jolt slightly while Tyler settles between my thighs behind me.
His mouth closes over me without warning, tongue pushing through my slick center while his nose presses deep between my ass cheeks, and the sound that tears out of me around Mack’s cock is genuinely obscene.
“Fuck, I love the way you taste trouble,” Tyler groans against me. “You’re my new favorite meal, you know that?”
I answer by pushing back against him, already shaking.
I feel him smile against my pussy before sucking harder on my clit, and I swear my entire body forgets how to function.
Mack’s fingers thread deeper into my hair as I take him farther into my mouth, my tongue tracing the underside of his cock each time I draw back while Tyler keeps up his relentless, sweet torture.