Chapter 17
MIA
The whiskey burns warm in my chest, loosening the knots of tension I’ve been carrying for days. Zane’s solid presence beside me feels right, comfortable. The kitchen is dimly lit, the only sound the occasional clink of ice in my glass as I swirl the amber liquid.
But something is missing.
Damon is still in his own head, pacing the edges of the safe house like a caged predator.
And Asher, he’s slipping further and further away. At first, I thought it was just his usual easygoing nature, his ability to blend into the background when needed. But now I see it for what it is. He’s retreating. Pulling away.
And I can’t let that happen.
I take another sip, letting the warmth settle before I speak. “This feels different now, doesn’t it?”
Zane doesn’t answer immediately. He leans back in his chair, rolling his glass between his palms, gaze fixed on the countertop. “Yeah,” he says finally. “It does.”
Footsteps sound in the hallway. The door creaks slightly as Asher appears in the doorway, his face unreadable. His usual smirk is missing, replaced by something quieter, more distant.
I set my glass down. “We need to talk.”
Asher doesn’t move from the doorway. “Yeah?” His voice is mild, but there’s an edge to it. “About what?”
“You,” I say, meeting his eyes. “Us.”
He snorts, crossing his arms. “There is no ‘us,’ Mia. There’s you and Zane, and Damon brooding in the corner.”
I glance at Zane, who doesn’t argue. He knows this is my conversation to have.
I stand, stepping closer to Asher, forcing him to actually see me. “I know you’re pulling away.”
His jaw tightens. “You think you know.”
“I do know,” I say firmly. “And I don’t want you to.”
Something flickers in his gaze, but he doesn’t let it land. He shakes his head, letting out a rough chuckle. “Mia, you’re really making this complicated.”
“I think it already is complicated,” I counter.
Zane exhales. “You’re not exactly wrong.”
Asher stares at me for a long moment, something unreadable in his expression. Then, finally, he sighs. “So what are we supposed to do?”
I reach for his hand, my fingers brushing against his wrist. Asher stares down at my hand on his wrist, the tension in his body unreadable. A muscle ticks in his jaw.
Zane watches from his seat, quiet but present, his fingers drumming lightly against his whiskey glass. He’s letting me take the lead, letting me choose. But that’s the problem—I don’t want to choose. Not between them. Not between any of them.
Asher exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Mia,” he says finally, voice rough. “This—whatever this is—you have to know how messy it’s going to get.”
I hold his gaze. “It already is.”
His lips twitch, like he wants to smirk but can’t quite get there. “Fair point.” His eyes flick to Zane, then back to me. “And Damon?”
I swallow, my fingers tightening against his wrist. “I talked to him.”
Zane lets out a dry chuckle. “And?”
I sigh. “And he didn’t exactly shut the door on it.”
Asher lets out a slow breath, stepping closer. “So what, you think we can just—what? Share you?” There’s something dark in his voice, something he’s trying to suppress.
I lift my chin. “I don’t think anything.
I just know that I don’t want to pretend anymore.
Not with you, not with Zane, not with Damon.
” My heart pounds as I force myself to keep going.
“I don’t know how it works, or if it even can.
But I do know that I feel something for all of you.
And I think—” I take a shaky breath. “I think you feel something for me, too.”
Asher stares at me, his blue eyes dark and unreadable. Zane shifts in his seat, rubbing his jaw, clearly deep in thought.
Asher’s arm tenses under my grip, his whole body rigid like he’s fighting himself. His jaw clenches as he looks down at me, then at Zane, then back at me.
“Don’t tell me you guys never had a threesome before,” I say.
Zane and Asher exchange a glance. “That’s not the point,” Zane says.
“He’s right. It’s different this time. You’re different,” Asher says. He doesn’t say it out loud, but I can feel it. He cares about me.
“I’ll go walk the perimeter,” Asher says, trying to shake my grip off him.
“Please just stay,” I urge. “I want you both, please. At least consider it.”
“You think this is a game, Mia?” Asher’s voice is rough, edged with something I can’t quite place.
I arch a brow, my fingers tracing up Asher’s forearm while holding Zane. “No, I think it’s an opportunity. And I think you’re both scared.”
Zane huffs out a breath, running a hand down his face. “This isn’t about fear, Mia.”
“Isn’t it?" I challenge, stepping closer. “What are you afraid of? That you’ll like it?”
Asher’s nostrils flare, his hands flexing at his sides. “I’m leaving.”
“Exactly,” I say softly. “So what’s stopping you from taking what you want while you’re still here?”
Zane exhales sharply behind me. Asher curses under his breath.
“Fuck,” Asher mutters, shaking his head. “This is a terrible idea.”
“Maybe.” I press my body against Zane’s, feeling the heat of him through his clothes. “But you want it, anyway.”
Zane’s fingers twitch on my waist. “Mia...”
“Stay,” I whisper, looking between them. “Stay tonight.”
Zane’s throat bobs. Asher exhales through his nose, his eyes dark.
“One night,” Asher growls. He doesn’t move, but when I turn to face him, his hands slide up my arms, over my shoulders, finally threading into my hair.
“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into,” he murmurs.
“I do,” I say.
Asher’s lips crash into mine, and Zane pulls me back against his chest. And I know I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Asher’s mouth claims mine, rough and demanding, his grip firm as he tilts my head back. His tongue sweeps against mine, stealing my breath, setting my body on fire. Before I can even process it, Zane’s hands slide down my waist, gripping my hips, kneading my ass.
A moan escapes me, swallowed by Asher’s kiss. Zane’s lips find the side of my neck, dragging over my skin, his teeth scraping as his tongue soothes the sting. My entire body shudders at the sensation of being trapped between them, their heat pressing in on me from both sides.
“Fuck,” Asher rasps against my lips. “You really want both of us?”
I can’t even form words, too lost in the way Zane’s mouth is moving against my throat, the way Asher’s fingers dig into my sides. Instead, I nod, gasping when Zane bites down, just hard enough to make me tremble.
“She’s shaking,” Zane murmurs, his voice lower, rougher than I’ve ever heard it. “You sure you can handle this, sweetheart?”
My laugh comes out breathless, needy. “Try me.”
Asher growls, gripping the hem of my shirt and pulling it over my head in one swift motion. Zane’s hands smooth down my back, his touch firm, possessive. Then his fingers slide beneath the waistband of my shorts, teasing, testing.
“Fucking hell,” Asher mutters, cupping my face as he kisses me again, slower this time, but just as intense. His thumb strokes over my cheekbone before trailing down, tracing the curve of my lips before slipping lower, over the column of my throat, my collarbone.
Zane’s hands are rougher, more desperate as he palms my ass, squeezing, pressing me harder against him. “She’s already soaked,” he tells Asher, voice full of dark amusement. “Guess she really did want this.”
Asher groans, his forehead pressing against mine for a moment before he pulls away just enough to look into my eyes. “Bed,” he commands. “Now.”
Heat pools low in my stomach at the raw dominance in his voice, at the way Zane’s fingers tighten on my hips like he wants to argue, wants to take me right here against the wall.
But I don’t hesitate. I take both of their hands and lead them toward the bedroom. The bedroom door barely clicks shut before Asher and Zane are on me again, all heat and desperation.
Asher pushes me back against the mattress. Zane kneels beside me, his fingers already slipping under the waistband of my shorts, peeling them down inch by inch, teasing. The anticipation makes my skin prickle, and my breath comes in sharp, uneven gasps.
“Fuck, Mia,” Asher murmurs, dragging a hand down my thigh.
Zane huffs a laugh, his hands bracketing my waist as he leans down, kissing his way over my stomach, his tongue flicking against my skin. “You should’ve seen yourself downstairs,” he mutters. “Sitting between us, looking like you were ready to be devoured.”
I let out a shaky breath, my head tilting back as Zane tugs my panties down, leaving me completely bare before them.
The air is thick with need, my body burning under their combined gaze.
Asher watches me with a dark intensity, his blue eyes smoldering as his hands roam over my hips, spreading my legs apart.
“Fucking gorgeous,” Zane breathes, his fingers slipping between my thighs, teasing over my clit in slow, deliberate circles. My back arches, a needy whimper slipping past my lips, but he doesn’t give me what I want just yet.
Asher leans down, brushing his mouth over my inner thigh, his breath warm against my sensitive skin.
I notice that he’s really quiet, but his hands roaming over me haven’t slowed down.
Zane inhales me. “You’re shaking already,” he murmurs, his fingers gripping my hips as he drags me closer to the edge of the bed. “Think you can take both of us, sweetheart?”
I don’t get a chance to answer before Zane presses his fingers deeper against my clit, rubbing in firm, torturous circles. My legs tremble, a moan spilling from my lips as pleasure ripples through me.
“Fuck, she’s soaked,” Zane says, his voice rough with approval. “Asher, I think she’s ready for your mouth.”
I barely have time to register his words before Asher’s tongue replaces Zane’s fingers, flicking against my clit with agonizing precision. My fingers tangle in his hair as he devours me, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes, dragging out every drop of pleasure.