Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Broderick

Shock steals my breath. Desire follows on its heels, nearly taking me off my feet. I stagger back against the door I just barged through, completely speechless. I expected to find Monroe here, to have another go-round with her before I inform her about the meeting I agreed to with her family.

I didn’t expect to find Shiloh kneeling on the bed, two fingers in Monroe’s pussy. There’s no way to misinterpret this scene. She’s not holding Shiloh down. She’s bent in fucking half and simply taking what Shiloh gives. “Well, fuck.”

Shiloh narrows her eyes, but she doesn’t do anything I expect. She doesn’t scramble to explain herself or shove away from Monroe. She just pumps slowly into Monroe’s pussy. “You should really learn to knock.”

I’ve fucked this up rather spectacularly. There’s no other conclusion to come to. That I’m standing here, watching the woman I love with the woman I both hate and desire… “What’s going on here?”

Monroe gives a breathless laugh that turns into a little moan when Shiloh does something with her fingers. “I’d think that’s readily apparent.”

“Broderick.” Shiloh’s hazel eyes are merciless. “Turn around. Walk out the door. Come back in the morning.”

“The morning?” Monroe shivers. “Someone’s ambitious.”

“Hush.” Shiloh pins me with a look. “Unless you have something vital to share that needs to be discussed right this moment, it can wait until morning.”

“Okay,” I finally manage. I move slowly, my body obeying even as my mind rebels. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. None of this is how it’s supposed to be. I open the door and step back into the hall. The second it closes behind me, the strength goes out of my body, and I slump back against it.

I can…hear them.

Monroe’s throaty laugh. Shiloh’s low murmur.

And then Monroe starts moaning.

I wish I could say she’s just putting on a show for me, but she made that exact same sound when I was inside her. It’s not fake. It’s not for my benefit. It’s because Shiloh is doing something to her that is driving her out of her mind.

I should walk away and come back in the morning. Standing here and listening to them is an exquisite form of torture. Jealousy sinks its barbs into me and digs deep. That Monroe has caught Shiloh’s interest boggles my mind. That Shiloh seems to soften some of Monroe’s edges… I don’t know what to think about that, either. It’s as if my brain simply cannot compute it. Both women have clear roles in my life, for better or worse, and they’re acting against those expectations.

“Broderick?”

I open my eyes to find my older brother standing there. Being back in Sabine Valley agrees with Abel. He’s lost a little of the tightness in his shoulders that I thought a permanent fixture. Sure enough, I can see Eli over his shoulder. The man is typing away at something on his phone, his handsome face lit with the screen, but his proximity has my brother softening even if his attention is obviously on something else. There’s no other explanation for it.

Abel’s…happy.

I should be happy for him. He deserves happiness after everything he’s sacrificed to keep us alive and together. If it were just Harlow, it wouldn’t be a problem. She’s fierce, and she obviously cares a great deal about this faction and the people in it. I suspect she’s just as ruthless as Abel, but she still provides a bit of a counterweight to some of his ideas and plans.

But it’s not just Harlow.

He’s not part of a contented couple. He’s in a throuple, and the third person is Eli fucking Walsh. Even standing in the same space as Eli right now has me remembering how smoke coated my throat as we ran for our lives. I realize Eli wasn’t directly responsible, but damn if I can let it go. No matter what else is true, it’s been almost too easy to slip right back into our roles in the Raider faction.

As if nothing has changed, when the truth is that everything has changed.

Look at Abel, hardened to someone I barely recognize some days. And Ezekiel, who’s more monster than the sweet brother I once knew. Even Gabriel and Donovan have changed, and they’re the most easy-going of the seven of us.

I’ve changed too.

I stare at my brother, not sure what the fuck I’m supposed to say. He knows it, too. Abel is many things, but he’s not a fool. His dark gaze flicks to the door at my back as a particularly loud moan sounds. “Monroe and…Shiloh?”

“Yes.”

He raises his eyebrows a fraction of an inch. “Interesting. Not surprising, but interesting.”

That overrides my desire to be literally anywhere else. “What are you talking about? Shiloh’s a good girl. It’s surprising as fuck.”

Abel snorts. “You’ve always had tunnel vision when it comes to that woman. She’s not an innocent, and Monroe might be a gigantic pain in the ass, but she’s magnetic.”

“Monroe’s also happy to stick it to you however she can.” Eli doesn’t look up from his phone. “No wonder she’s set her eyes on Shiloh.”

“No one fucking asked you.”

Abel gives me a long look as if weighing the venom in my voice. I know I should tone it down, should just let shit go, but I don’t know how to. I don’t even know where to begin. “He’s right.”

“I’m aware of that,” I grit out.

“Then stop fucking around and handle your business.” He glances down the hall and then back at me. “Everyone knows you’re sleeping in one of the spare bedrooms because you’re scared of your Bride.”

“I’m not—”

“It makes us look weak.”

I welcome the surge of anger and push off the door. “Who the fuck are we looking weak to, Abel? It’s no one’s business where I sleep.”

“Wrong.” He slides his hands into his pockets, every inch the arrogant prick. “All of our brothers are doing their duty—except you. You don’t think Monroe’s running to tell her mother how weak the Paine brothers are when the man she’s handfasted to avoids her? When he can’t fucking handle her?” Abel shakes his head slowly. “You know better.”

He’s right. I hate that he’s right. “Mine your own goddamned business.”

“This is my business. I didn’t fight and win so you could get cold feet now. Handle your shit, Broderick. Or I’ll do it for you.”

My verbal brakes disappear. “Won’t your happy little relationship go up in smoke if you fuck Monroe? That’d be a shame.”

Abel moves so fast, I never see it coming. He grabs the front of my shirt and swings me around to slam into the wall opposite the door I was just leaning on. The impact rattles me, and it rattles me worse when he jerks me forward and slams me back again. His face has gone cold. “I don’t need my cock to handle the Monroe problem, Broderick. This is a big house. Lot of stairs. Be a fucking shame if she fell down them and snapped that pretty neck of hers.”

I stare at him. We’re the same height, but he’s got more than a few pounds of muscle on me. That’s not the only difference between us. Abel is ruthless in a way I’ll never be able to match. He’s not bluffing. I swallow hard. “You’d risk breaking the treaty by killing her.”

“Fuck no.” He barely lets me get a breath out before he continues, “But accidents happen, and we can’t be liable. It’s a known fact that she likes to slip her handler so she can get into trouble. It’ll be a pain in the ass to deal with the fallout, but better that than have her making one of us the laughingstock of Sabine Valley. Our position is too precarious to allow it, and you’d realize that if you pulled your head out of your ass long enough to look around and take stock of the situation.”

“What the fuck, Abel?”

“Abel.” Eli is there, taking my brother’s shoulders and pulling him off me. Or at least trying to. “That’s enough.”

My brother gives me one last shake and releases me, stepping away and sliding his hands back into his pockets. He shrugs off Eli’s hands, but gives the man a look so sexually charged, it makes me mildly uncomfortable. When Abel speaks again, he sounds cold and perfectly composed. “No need to get so emotional, Broderick. If you’re not willing to solve the problem, then I will. I’ll do what I always do when it comes to our people—clean up their messes. Your mess this time. You’re welcome, by the way.” He turns and strides down the hallway, Eli easily falling into step beside him.

Trust Abel to cut to the heart of the situation without a shred of mercy.

Figure this shit out, or Monroe dies.

I should be grateful. She’s the enemy. Not to mention the whole seducing-Shiloh thing.

Except…

Shiloh’s right. Monroe was only nineteen when that shit went down eight years ago. She was heir, yes, but she’s not the one who made the call to ally with Eli’s father in his attempt to wipe our family off the face of the earth. I doubt she was part of the raiding party, either.

She might be a pain in the ass and an Amazon, but neither of those things should be a death sentence. And as much as the thought of her and Shiloh together makes me feel twisted up and fucked in the head, that isn’t a death sentence, either.

Damn my brother for backing me into a corner. I can’t in good conscience sit back and let Abel take care of things in that particular Abel way.

Which means I have to do as he said and get my house in order.

That starts now.

I glance at the door. Or, rather, it starts in the morning.

I don’t sleep.Of course I don’t. My brain is too busy running a montage of devastating and infuriating images behind my eyes. Shiloh and Monroe. In bed, making each other orgasm until they’re too exhausted to continue.

As a result, I’m already frazzled as fuck when I dress and head down to Monroe’s room, far too early to be polite. It doesn’t matter. I can’t find anything worse than what I walked in on last night.

Worse…or better?

I take a deep breath and knock on the door. The barest pause and then Shiloh’s voice emerges. “Come in.”

I don’t actually expect to find them still fucking, but it’s jarring to find both women sitting on the bed. Shiloh is wearing her customary jeans and plain top. Monroe has changed into jeans and another oversized top that should dwarf her figure but somehow manages to show it off instead.

I glance at the couch, taking in the blankets and pillow there. They…didn’t sleep together? I don’t know if that’s a relief or not. I don’t what to think at all anymore.

I push the thought away. “We need to talk.”

“Do we?”

I blink at Shiloh. “Are you going to be pissed at me forever?” The thought hollows out my stomach. I hope to the gods haven’t ruined things between us permanently. Surely there’s a way to figure this out and reclaim our friendship. As much as I want to prioritize that, she really won’t forgive me if my negligence gets Monroe killed.

“I don’t know. Are you going to be a raging dickhead forever?”

Monroe laughs and leans against Shiloh. There’s a faint flush to her cheeks, and her eyes are heavy-lidded with remembered pleasure. The sight sends a bolt of lust through me, but I muscle it back. “I’m sorry,” I grit out. “How many times do I have to say it before it sticks?”

Shiloh looks at me for a long moment. “Until you actually mean it—which you don’t right now. But let’s move on.”

I hate this new distance between us. I hate that I feel like I don’t know her anymore. Or that maybe Abel and Monroe are right and maybe I only ever saw a filtered version of her. The realization isn’t a comfortable one. I want to ask her what the hell happened, but she won’t thank me for the question.

Focus.

“Jasper has requested Monroe’s presence.” I glance at her. “And Winry’s.”

Monroe perks up at that. “When?”

“This morning.”

Shiloh smooths her hair back. “Convenient timing. I have to update Maddox and Cohen, so you can escort Monroe to the meeting.”

It was the plan, but having her dictate it to me in that cold voice sets my teeth on edge. It makes me want to… I muscle the urge down. This isn’t Monroe mouthing off. This is Shiloh.

Up until the shitshow at Lammas, I wouldn’t have even had the urge to put her in her place. It’s like having sex with Monroe woke something inside me that had been slumbering my entire life. I don’t know how the fuck I’m supposed to deal with it now.

Or maybe it’s wasn’t Monroe at all. Maybe it was coming back to Sabine Valley that changed things permanently. “Afterward, the three of us are going to have a chat.”

“We’ll see.” Shiloh gets up and walks into the bathroom. She shuts the door with a finality that makes me want to kick it the fuck down.

“Goddamn it.”

“Problem?” Monroe stands and stretches. Her clothing isn’t suggestive in the least, but I can’t get over the image of Shiloh bending her in half, the flowy white fabric of her shirt bunched up around her ribs, leaving her naked from the waist down. The memory sends a wave of heat through me.

I feel like I’m being torn in two. There was a smart course of action, the logical way to proceed. I know there was. It dissipates through my fingers like smoke. All that’s left is what the feral creature inside me wants.

I move before I can think of the thousands of reasons not to and wrap my fist around Monroe’s blond hair. She doesn’t tense, doesn’t fight me. She simply goes fluid and lets me tilt her head back as I step close enough that we’re damn near plastered together. “Keep that smart mouth in line, Monroe.”

She holds my gaze and licks her lips. “Oh, so we’re just going to gloss over the fact that I won that bet fair and square? Interesting that you won’t honor your word.”

Rage crystalizes inside me. How does she do this? How does she slide beneath my skin “I’ll honor my word.”

“Good boy.”

I tug on her hair, a little too hard. “We’ll discuss it later.”

“As you wish.” Monroe shivers. For all that she’s chaos incarnate, she isn’t faking her attraction to me. I’d bet my life on it. I don’t know if that makes this shit better or worse.

I release her and start for the door. “Let’s go.”

I half expect her to start some shit, but Monroe follows along obediently and silently… At least until we’re in the hall and have shut the door behind us. “You’re a giant fool, do you know that?”

Even knowing better than to take the bait, I still chomp down on it with all my strength. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” She manages to match my longer stride with seeming ease, which irritates me beyond all reason. Monroe laughs. “You all but drove Shiloh right into my arms. What did you say to piss her off so thoroughly?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“If you say so.” She shrugs. “I honestly have no motivation to convince you to stop being a pushy neanderthal. It’s working out well for me.”

I spin on her, but she’s already moving. Monroe catches my wrist and shoves it away. “Let’s get one thing straight, shall we? I might like some slap and tickle when it comes to fucking, but you will not touch me in anger outside of that. Do you understand me?”

It’s as if someone else takes control of my body. I stalk her across the hallway, and she lets me, though she narrows her green eyes in suspicion. I don’t stop until I plant my hands on the wall on either side of her body. “It’s you who needs to understand me, Bride.” I lean down until we’re face to face. “Everything we do is in conjunction to fucking. That’s all it is. Aside from the alliance this handfasting brought us, you’re just a pretty pussy to me and nothing more.”

She laughs in my face. “Gods, you’re too much. Cute, Broderick, really cute.”

Still acting on pure instinct, I spin her around and step forward, pressing my front to her back. She drags in a harsh breath, but I’m not finished yet. I dip my hand beneath her loose shirt and hook the front of her jeans with my thumb. “This fucking enough for you, Monroe?”

“This is hardly foreplay,” she snarls.

I don’t hesitate. It takes half a second to unbutton her jeans and drag down the zipper. Then my hand is in her pants and, fuck, she’s so goddamn wet. I know it’s not for me. This is the aftermath of what Shiloh did to her last night. The jeans are too tight to do what I want, so I curse and move back enough to shove them down her hips. I don’t give a fuck that we’re in the middle of the hallway. I don’t care who might see. I just need to put this siren of a woman in her place, just one single fucking time.

I shift to the side so I can spear two fingers into her pussy from behind and rub her clit with my free hand. For her part, she hasn’t moved her stance, her hands still plastered to the wall where she caught herself. I stroke her, tormenting myself with how fucking good she feels. “Did she lick your pussy, Monroe?” The words feel dragged from me. “Did she fuck you with her tongue?”

“Yes.” She arches her hips, trying to take my fingers deeper. Monroe lets her head fall forward as I circle her clit just the way she likes. “She made me come so fucking hard. I can’t wait to do it again.”

I don’t give in to the temptation to increase my pace. I just hold steady as Monroe starts to shake in my arms. For all her shit-talking, she does come sweetly. She whimpers and clamps around my fingers hard enough to make me groan. I lean down and nip her earlobe. “You might have me for a week, Monroe, but make no mistake—I’ll be having you during that time. Over and over again.”

She barely lets me get my hands out of the way before she yanks up her jeans and fastens them. It’s only when her clothing is back in place that she finally looks at me. “Can’t wait.”

For the first time since I met her, I can’t shake the feeling that she just lied to me.