Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
CHARLI
Shoving the red envelope into the drawer with my socks, I decide to wait until I’m alone to see what it says. Besides, I’m feeling too good to deal with the past right now.
My lips are still tingling when I get ready for bed. Lifting a hand, I trace over them. I thought I’d been kissed before, but obviously I hadn’t known the meaning of the word. Rushed, wet, and too much tongue is what I remember. Who knew a kiss could make you want to beg? Or ache with need?
“Damn it.” I forgot to do my laundry again. After we got home from the hospital, Macklin and I spent the afternoon relaxing on the couch, mindlessly watching TV. I fell asleep with my head on his broad shoulder.
“What is it?” Teague asks from the doorway.
I explain the situation, and he shrugs. Walking over to the dresser, he pulls open a drawer. “Wear one of my shirts.”
Peering inside, I spot a Kelly green one and pull it out. “It’s Paddy, not Patty, ya eejit.” I look at him. “What’s an eejit?”
He chuckles. “Idiot. Macklin had those made when we went home to Ireland for St. Paddy’s Day one year. It used to drive him crazy to hear patty.”
Macklin grunts as he walks in. “Wasn’t worth it. The number of drunk tourists who insisted I was wrong was insane. Even after I told them I was feckin’ Irish.”
I laugh at the strong accent he pulled out of thin air. When he slides into bed, I bite my lip, indecision warring in me. Last night, I wanted them both tucked around me like stalwart pillars against the big bad world. But what if I want to kiss Teague again? Is Macklin going to mind?
Kiss me any time you want. He won’t care.
I blush. With him gone the last few days, I forgot how easy it was to communicate with him.
“I’m going to change.” Slipping into the bathroom, I brush my teeth and change into Teague’s shirt, leaving on my panties.
When I come out, Teague’s standing by the bed in a pair of navy boxer briefs.
But unlike last night, I can’t help but glance at the strong outline of his?—
He clears his throat, and I close my eyes, mortified he caught me. “Sorry.”
“I’m not,” he returns, a husky note in his voice. He pulls back the covers and motions for me to get in. He joins me a second later.
Macklin’s deep blue eyes are dark with intent, and I hold my breath, wondering if he’s going to kiss me. He reaches out and captures my fingers in his, pulling my hand to the center of his chest. “Good night.”
Teague slides his arm around my body to rest his hand against my stomach. His thumb finds the tiny sliver of skin where the shirt has ridden up and rubs lightly back and forth. I suck in a breath, but all he does is kiss my ear.
“Relax, sweetheart. Get some sleep.”
Rough carpet. Dust. The sound of Martin’s zipper. No, no, no. I reach, fingers stretching. My hand is caught. I scream, but I can’t get him to release it.
“Shh, I’ve got you. You’re safe, sweetheart.” Teague’s smooth voice cuts through the fear and fog.
Trembling, I turn and bury myself in his arms, breathing in the expensive cologne I only associate with him. Warmth and a shield of protectiveness envelope me as he uses our connection to send soothing vibes and calm me down. With a sigh, my breathing evens out, and I fall back to sleep.
Hands on my thighs, jerking me back. My only chance. I grip the screwdriver and twist. But a vise captures my hands before I can make contact. I pull and pull, but I’m trapped. I scream for help.
“Charli, wake up,” Teague orders, his voice soft but insistent. “That’s it. Martin’s gone. He can’t hurt you anymore. I promise.” His hand runs down my back in a soothing motion.
“I know,” I assure him, my voice raw. “I saw him die.” But my mind won’t let it go. “Do you want me to sleep on the couch?”
Teague snorts. “No.” He hesitates for a second.
Do you think if I touched you, it would help replace the feel of him?
I bite my lip. What if I freak out?
If you do, I’ll stop. We’ll figure out something else to try.
“Okay,” I whisper.
His hands grip my hips, then slide down to the back of my thighs. I wait for the fear, but nothing happens. “It doesn’t feel the same.”
“Because he was behind you.” Macklin’s gruff voice. “Let me?”
My heart beats faster in my chest, but I nod.
Macklin’s large hands settle on my waist, and he jerks me toward him like Martin did. Andros must have seen him do that and told Macklin.
Panting, I grip Teague’s hand. Macklin’s hands move to my thighs, and I tense, my mind shifting between the back of my car and Teague’s bedroom.
But instead of Martin’s bruising grip, these hands gently squeeze, then glide up the back of my thighs in a light caress.
Over and over. With each pass, he presses a little deeper until the tight muscles relax and the fear dissipates.
I don’t kid myself that this will get rid of my nightmares permanently, but it breaks the cycle tonight.
Tension of another kind seeps into my languid muscles. Heat pools low in my stomach, and my body becomes slick. I hold myself still, hoping they won’t notice. His slightly rough hands glide up, stopping at the top of my thighs, and I accidentally push back, wanting more.
“Sorry. Um, you can stop now,” I rasp in a husky voice.
Teague sweeps the hair back from my face. “Let us take care of you.”
Licking my lips, I nod, desperately wanting more. “Yes, please.”
Macklin runs a finger along the edge of my panties. “Take them off? Or leave them on?”
My mind wavers between the two options. My body is screaming “take them off,” but my mind is all over the place.
I’ve never really done much with one guy, much less two.
Part of me wants to break out of my shell.
Do something bold. But I’m not really that person.
Yes or no? Teague doesn’t seem to mind, but what if he’s being nice?
I’m not that nice. Macklin or Andros. Everyone else, fuck no.
Macklin lifts his finger.
I squeeze my eyes shut and take the leap. “Off.”
Something rumbles in his chest, and he slowly pulls them down and off. Macklin’s large hands resume their glide up my legs, skimming my calves and thighs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Without thinking, I spread my legs wider, giving him access to the ache between my legs.
Teague dips his head and captures my lips in a demanding kiss, shattering the last of my hesitation. My hands brush his naked chest, the muscles hard and defined beneath my touch, and his kiss gets wilder.
Macklin’s hands roam, tracing the curve of my butt and the crease of my inner thigh. I shift restlessly as he avoids the area I need him most.
Teague’s hand slips under my shirt, and I jerk my mouth from his. “Only the front.”
“Front only,” he assures me, his hand sweeping up my body to my breasts. He flicks my stiff nipples and groans. “Trust me?”
I cautiously nod, and he pulls the shirt up and slides it behind my head, baring me to him, but with my arms still in the voluminous shirt, my back and shoulders remain covered.
He whistles under his breath and slides both hands up to cup my breasts. “Perfect.” Bending his head, he pushes them together and licks up the center. “I’ve been wanting to do that since our first date.”
Macklin’s thumbs slide dangerously close, causing me to clench, and a few drops of moisture trickle out. He rubs the liquid into my skin.
I arch, bringing each half of me closer to their touch.
Teague scoots down and latches onto one of my nipples with his mouth. Then reaches down with his other hand and picks up my knee, spreading me for Macklin.
Sliding my hand into his thick hair, I press my breast into his mouth. An image of him tonguing my nipple flashes in my mind, and I realize it’s from him. I gasp and stare down at his firm lips, watching him suck and tease the hard pink tip.
“You’re soaked,” Macklin murmurs in my ear. “Can I touch you?”
“Touch me, please,” I beg.
“Kiss me,” he orders, his hand hovering between my legs.
I twist my head, and his mouth covers mine, but unlike Teague’s demanding kiss, Macklin’s is coaxing, drawing me in deeper, until I’m lost in the taste and feel of his mouth on mine.
His finger slides along my center, spreading the slick wetness from top to bottom, and I gasp into his mouth.
Like my thighs, he’s not content to do it once, but over and over until I’m desperate for more.
Softly biting his bottom lip, he chuckles and plunges one thick finger deep inside.
My hand tightens in Teague’s hair as my body stretches to accommodate.
“You’re so tight,” Macklin murmurs, his hand freezing. “Have you been with anyone before?”
Teague lifts his head, waiting for me to answer.
“Yes, once,” I reply, wishing I were more experienced.
Something in my voice must have revealed how I felt because Macklin grunts. “We’re greedy. We want all the firsts we can get.” He slides his finger out, then in, and that single movement sends need shooting through my body. “Has anyone touched you like this?”
“No,” I moan, nearly losing my mind between Teague’s mouth and Macklin’s thick finger.
My answer earns me another kiss, and my body clenches in response.
“That’s it, love,” Macklin murmurs in my ear.
Teague lowers his head and gives my breast one last lick, then slowly kisses his way across to the other one to lavish it with equal attention.
Macklin’s finger strokes in and out a little faster, and heat spreads across my body.
“Mmm, yes,” I breathe out. “Faster.”
Teague releases my breast and scoots down the bed.
What are you doing? I cringe at the slight panic in my voice.
I’m going to taste you while Macklin touches you.
What?
Has anybody ever put their mouth on you?
Teague lifts my leg and stares up at me, his blue-grey eyes almost slate grey with desire as he waits for the answer.
“No.” My reply is barely a whisper, but my reward is a glimpse of what he’s feeling. Feral triumph, knowing he’ll be the first. His to taste. Lick. Suck. Every inch of my body. The need racing through his veins straight to his hard cock.
More, I demand, his emotions fanning the inferno raging inside me.
Watching your sweet, wet body squeeze his finger is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I think I could come from watching him finger you.
Teague’s mouth closes over me.
“Oh,” I moan, long and low, as he sucks lightly on the sensitive bud at the top.
Macklin chuckles. “Does his mouth feel good?”
Instead of answering, I twist my head back and capture his lips in a wild and desperate kiss, diving deep, matching the rhythm of his finger.
He moans and adds a second finger. I wince at the stretch.
Teague’s tongue swirls, and pleasure replaces the burn.
Internal muscles contract, gripping Macklin’s fingers.
“That’s it,” he says. He stares down at me, his gaze sliding over my face as he picks up the pace again.
I wonder what he sees?
Teague’s tongue flicks lightly over me, faster and faster.
“I need…” I pant, not really knowing. I mean. Of course I’ve heard about orgasms. “I’ve never.” It’s right there. “Please, Macklin.”
“Let go, love. We’ve got you.”
Macklin curls his fingers and strokes a new spot deep inside, and I cry out. It feels like I’m on the edge of a cliff. Almost like when Teague and I met.
My body coils tighter and tighter. Teague’s tongue curls around me. And between one breath and the next, I explode, clenching and pulsing as waves of sensation roll over me, darkening the edges of my vision.
Teague surges up and pulls my chin toward him. Tongue stroking in and out in a messy carnal kiss, he shares images of the three of us, my flushed face, body arching, the sound I made when my release hit. He groans and releases my lips.
Macklin slides his fingers out, and I whimper at the empty feeling he leaves behind.
Macklin tugs my face toward his to place a long, slow kiss on my lips before pulling back to study my face. “For you to trust me…to help ease your fear. I have no words to describe how much that meant to me.” He clears his throat. “But feeling you come on my fingers. Damn, love.”
Sweeping the damp hair back from my face, he peers down at me. “You know this changes things, don’t you? For us?”
I shyly nod, although I’m not exactly sure how this will all work.
He pulls me into a tight hug and runs a hand down my hip, his lips pressing softly on my temple, then my ear, and finally on my neck.
He strokes a finger down my cheek. “I’ll return in a bit.” Easing out of bed, he walks out.
I bite my lip, wondering if he’s okay.
Teague chuckles. “He’s going to take a shower. Release some of his tension.”
“Oh,” I say, looking at him, silently asking him the same question.
He gives me a wry smile. “More than okay. The connection between us works both ways. When you came, your pleasure was so intense, I found my release at the same time.” He plucks at his briefs. “I’ll have to grab a quick shower, but not for the same reason.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Sorry?”
“I’m not,” he states firmly. “Feeling how aroused you were. How new everything was. I’ve never been so fucking turned on in my life. I wanted to devour you. But at the same time, I could have watched you with Macklin all night.”
“You didn’t mind?” I ask, needing his reassurance.
Teague shakes his head. “No. I knew the moment it turned from comfort to desire. The way you craved his hands on you. If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have let him touch you.”
“You could feel all that?”
“Yes,” he replies, reaching up to grab my shirt. “Let’s fix your shirt, then I’ll get a washcloth for you. Unless you want to join me in the shower?”
I bend my neck and let him pull it back over my head. “If you don’t mind, I’ll wash up, then you can have the bathroom.” Fingering the stretched-out hem, I feel like I owe him an explanation. “I’ve never let anyone see my back.”
He kisses my nose. “One day you’ll realize your scars don’t matter to us.
I’m never going to see anything but a gorgeous woman.
And I’m jealous enough to wish I was the only one who thinks you’re stunning, but I see the looks you get in the office.
And on the street. But it doesn’t matter what I think.
One day you’ll be comfortable enough to strut around in a tank top.
Or even a bikini.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“Not because it’s what we want, but because you feel sexy and you want to drive us crazy with tantalizing glimpses of those perfect breasts. ”
Either he knows that’s my secret dream or he guessed, but the fear of them rejecting me because of my scars eases a little.