Chapter Twenty-one

RUE

A persistent slash of sunlight against my eyelids pulls me from the best slumber I've had in ages. I shift to stretch but find myself unable to move. My eyes pop open, adrenaline flooding my veins, and I curl my hands into fists to keep from moving as I assess the situation.

It isn't the first time I've woken up tied to a bed or chair.

Nothing will keep my father and his minions from beating me, but the less I react, the faster they'll lose interest.

When I survey my unfamiliar surroundings, it takes my brain a moment to catch up.

I'm not home.

My father is not here.

I release a shaky breath, then my eyes widen once more when I see the reason I can't move. We're on the ground, each of the guys wrapped around me. After we came downstairs last night, the guys moved all the furniture to give us room to stretch out on the floor.

Jameson's arms are wrapped around my legs like tentacles from an octopus, his head resting on my stomach. Jaceson is on the opposite side of him, cuddled up to my side near my hip, his hand curled possessively around my upper thigh.

To my shock, Hicks is at my back, cradling me against his chest, his hand stretched wide across my ribs like he couldn't resist holding me close in his sleep. He's half sitting up, using the couch like a backrest. Thankfully, he's still out cold, or I would no doubt face his wrath for daring to touch him while he slept. My face heats in mortification, and I slowly ease away from him, grimacing when I notice a spot of drool on his shoulder where my head was resting.

Unfortunately, I don't get far. Ellis is on my other side, his arm thrown across my chest, where his hand boldly cups my left breast. To my chagrin, my nipple hardens. My breath catches when he shifts, his grip tightening on my breast, and heat pools low in my belly.

A soft breath against my ear distracts me, and I carefully shift to see Gunner still asleep, stretched out on the couch behind us. His hand is draped over Hicks' shoulder, and I realize it must have shifted off me when I moved.

My survival instincts scream at me to bolt to my feet and run, and it takes me nearly a minute to claw back the blind panic that says being near a man automatically means pain. The guys haven't hurt me. In fact, most of them are actually very sweet and gentle.

The way they often watch me sends a shiver through me, but not in a bad way.

I'm not sure what any of it means, but I want to explore the unique experience more.

I glance around the room, and my lips quirk when it looks like a tornado tore through it. A dozen or so abandoned blankets are scattered throughout the room. Candy wrappers cover every surface, and I nearly snort at the amount of popcorn crumbs sprinkled everywhere. Apparently, it's a thing to throw popcorn at the screen when the characters do something stupid, or that's what Jameson claimed.

My smile spreads when I remember watching one movie after another, the guys cheering or cursing at the screen, each of them so vocal that it was almost overwhelming.

I've never had so much fun.

The last thing I remember is the guys arguing about what movie we should watch next. That was near five o'clock. I don't remember anything after that. Part of me wants to go back to sleep, but unfortunately, the enormous glass of slushy lemonade Jameson handed me last night, which he called a Big Gulp, is wreaking havoc on my bladder.

I carefully extract myself from the guys, barely daring to breathe each time one of them shifts or grumbles in their sleep. It takes nearly ten minutes to free myself, and I dash toward the bathroom at a dead run, afraid that I'll embarrass myself.

By the time I'm done, I sigh in relief. That relief vanishes when I catch a look at myself in the mirror. I resemble a hedgehog, my hair going every which way. No matter how much I try to tame the curls, the strands refuse to stay put, and I finally give up with a frustrated huff.

I tiptoe out of the bathroom, not wanting to wake the guys, then freeze in place when three pairs of eyes lock on me mid-sneak. They are standing in the kitchen like this morning is any other day. Hicks has his back turned to me as he presses buttons on a coffee machine. His shoulders tense slightly, so I know he senses me, but he purposely doesn't turn and look at me.

Used to my parents dismissing me and pretending I don't exist, I don't take offense.

In fact, I'm almost grateful.

That man is a lot to handle, especially first thing in the morning.

Jaceson is on the far side of the island, wearing an amused expression as he peers at me over a large glass of orange juice. The wide expanse of his chest is bare, leaving every delicious muscle exposed to my gaze. His pajamas ride low on his hips, and I lick my lips, my mouth suddenly feeling parched.

His pale blue eyes darken, then his gaze drops and slowly rakes over every inch of me, leaving my body tingling and achy. Flustered by his intensity, I rip my gaze away from the enticing package he presents, almost like he's on display for my ogling pleasure. He's like a panther on the prowl, and I'm not sure if he's ready to pounce and play with me or if he's about to go in for a kill.

My attention falls on Jameson. His upper body is splayed dramatically over the center island where he's stretched across the surface, his head resting on his arms. When he sees me, his face lights up with pleasure, and I smile at his adorably ruffled appearance.

I almost expect him to jump to his feet and bounce over to me. Instead, he drags himself to his feet, shuffles over to me, then wraps me in his arms and tucks his head into the crook of my neck before sighing in contentment.

I stiffen a little, but the heat of him and the light floral scent of his cologne have me relaxing a moment later. Only, when he doesn't move for nearly a full minute, I gingerly reach up and rub his back, shooting a wide-eyed look at his brother over his shoulder.

Jaceson smirks at my predicament, but when I narrow my eyes on him, he finishes his drink and comes to my rescue, peeling his brother off me. "Sorry, he gets a little clingy when he's sleepy."

Only Jameson fights him.

The instant one arm is free, he wraps the other one around me, not loosening his hold. After five minutes, Jaceson huffs in exasperation, and I squirm when I feel Jameson smile against the side of my neck, his lips ticklish as they brush against the sensitive skin.

An icy blast of water smacks me right in the face, and I take a shocking breath of air as I sputter and lurch back, but no matter where I move, the water follows. My head snaps up to find Hicks holding the hose connected to the sink, and he's wearing an infernal smirk on his face.

I have no doubt the fucker hit me on purpose.

"Not my pookie!" Jameson bellows, scandalized and outraged that I had been targeted.

His eyes narrow in menace, but before he can retaliate, the stream of water shifts. Jameson squeals, dancing away as he tries to escape the cold shower without losing his hold on me. When the water doesn't stop, he growls then tosses me over his shoulder, yelling threats as he sprints from the room. "You better watch your back. This means war!"

I can't stifle my giggle as we charge into the empty living room and head directly up the stairs. Jostled by his shoulder, I reach down and wrap my arms around his waist for stability, and I can't help but admire the way his wet sweatpants cling to his ass.

My mouth waters as I think about reaching down and biting that glorious round ass as it flexes just inches away. I'm so distracted that I don't notice Jameson skidding to a stop in an unfamiliar room until he grabs my thighs and slowly lowers me to the ground.

Blood rushes to my head, and I sway, clinging to his chest—his very wet chest—then I can't look away when I see every inch of him on display, only a thin piece of cotton separating us. He cuddles me close, pushing my dripping wet hair away from my face, and I peer up at him from under my lashes.

My breath catches in my throat at the warmth I see in his pale blue eyes, the shards of white in them softening his intense stare. Though he is a twin, I could never mistake one for the other. Their personalities are just too different.

The only thing that's the same between them is the near crippling darkness they carry, each of them struggling to survive in their own way. The twins are so reliant on each other that they can't live without one another, like they are two parts of the same whole.

"You okay?" Jameson asks gently, his eyes softening in concern as he brushes his fingers across my cheek.

"Yeah, I'm fine." My skin warms at his touch, and I clear my throat before hastily stepping back, needing distance between us before I do something stupid…like climb back into his arms. Hearing the shower running in the background, I flash him a rueful smile and pull my wet shirt away from my chest. "I needed a shower anyway."

While the man's shirt covers me to mid-thigh, the wet material clings to every curve, doing little to disguise my body. I'm so busy plucking at my wet shirt, trying to dry it, that I don't notice the silence right away. When I glance up, I find Jameson staring very intently at my exposed thighs from where the shirt rode up. After a beat, his gaze slowly travels up my body, landing on the wet fabric molding to my breasts.

Unsurprisingly, my nipples harden under his attention, and I barely resist crossing my arms. I shuffle my feet as an ache builds between my thighs.

The blush on my cheeks deepens, but this time, it's not from embarrassment.

It's pure want.

Jameson leans down slowly, his jovial expression shifting to hunger. "Baby, do you ache?"

My breath shudders out of me, and I give him almost an imperceptible nod.

He leans down, then nips my bottom lip hard enough to sting, and I find myself swaying toward him with a moan. My body is on fire. Sure, I've touched myself and orgasmed, but it's a totally different experience when someone else touches me.

He slips an arm around my waist and slides his leg between my thighs. I let out a startled squeak when his hand lands on my panty-covered ass, and he hauls me firmly against him. His erection presses against my stomach, and I squirm at the hard length of him. My movements send his hand slipping inside my panties, and I gasp at the feel of his warm fingers so near my center.

I freeze, mortified that my wiggling had that unintended effect, and I'm not sure if I should apologize or beg him to touch me. Before I can decide on either, his fingers press between my thighs, and my eyes flutter closed on a strangled moan when he slides through my slick folds. Maybe I should be embarrassed by how soaked I am, but I'm just too needy to care.

One finger slowly slips inside me, just enough to tease me, while another reaches farther and circles my clit. I'm not even conscious of rocking against him, seeking more friction. With his knee between my thighs, my legs are forced apart, and I'm helpless to do anything as I chase my pleasure. Between the friction of his touch and the pressure of his knee against my core, I'm aware of nothing but the orgasm rushing toward me.

His other hand slips into my hair and presses me tighter against him, urging me to ride him, and I'm helpless to resist. My orgasm crests over me in a wave so strong that nothing exists but him. I don't even try to stifle the urge to lean forward and sink my teeth into his chest. He hisses out a breath, a loud moan catching in his throat, his grip almost too tight as he crushes me against him.

As I come down from the high, his touch turns languished on my clit, his fingers thrusting shallowly as phantom shudders rack me. I still against him, trying to clear my head as the rest of the world slowly filters back in.

I swallow hard and huddle against his chest, working up the courage to lift my head.

What the fuck did I just do?

A gentle kiss hits the top of my head, and he lingers, breathing in my scent. "You came apart beautifully for me, baby. You did nothing wrong."

Though his tone is soothing, anxiety is a bitch as it sinks its claws into me. I finally work up the nerve to look at him from under my lashes. I search his eyes, then gradually relax when I don't see any judgment. I breathe a sigh of relief, unable to force myself to step away from him yet, uncertain if my legs will even hold me up.

Unfortunately, I don't get a choice when he slowly removes his hand from between my legs and lowers me to the ground, my body sliding down his front. I might have whimpered at the loss of him. A little growl of possessiveness is torn from him, and he flexes his hips, his cock pressing hard and insistent against me.

Damn if my pussy doesn't clench with the need to feel him inside me. I'm not conscious of burying my face against his chest until he rubs a soothing hand up and down my spine. I don't move for a full minute, not ready to face the consequences of my actions just yet.

"Are you worried about the guys?" Jameson murmurs, his voice still husky. "Baby, you have nothing to worry about. I can assure you that they thoroughly enjoyed the show. Didn't you?"

Static fills my head as his words register, then I stiffen and whirl.

Gunner is leaning heavily against the doorway that leads to the bathroom. He's obviously been in the shower, a loose towel wrapped obscenely low around his waist. Trails of water trickle over his chest in a mesmerizing pattern, his dark hair still dripping.

It's a glorious sight that causes my breath to catch in my throat. Even with bruises and scars marring his beautiful flesh, he's a dazzling display to behold. Black and white tattoos decorate nearly every inch of his chest, the design crawling down his arms, wrapping around his back, and disappearing under the towel.

I never gave tattoos a thought until now.

The artwork on his skin is so vivid that I'd swear the animals inked into his flesh are trying to crawl off his body. There is an eagle on his chest, soaring over a beautifully detailed mountain scene, with a moon and river valley giving it extra depth. Across his other shoulder is a snarling wolf, a haunting backdrop of a full moon and forest making it look like the image was painted on his body.

More and more images pop out, almost hidden in the dark ink, and I'm entranced. I probably would have continued to gawk for the next hour if he hadn't shifted under my gaze.

The events of the last five minutes catch up to me, and I realize he must have caught the entire show. I didn't even hear the shower turn off. My feet twitch with the need to run, and it's only Jameson's hand around my waist that prevents me from bolting.

Gunner roughly clears his throat, and my eyes snap toward his face. Heat turns his blue eyes dark and stormy, and the hunger in them weakens my knees.

"You look fucking delicious in my shirt." His voice is low and gruff, sending shivers down my spine, his praise giving me enough courage to scan his nearly naked body again. A strangled groan catches in my throat when I see him grip his cock firmly in his fist. It's only his tight hold that keeps the towel in place, and I'm torn between the need to walk over to him and yank the offending item away, or demand that he drop it so I can see all of him.

His gaze is so intense that my pussy clenches with need, like the greedy bitch didn't just have an orgasm a minute ago.

Jameson wraps both arms around me from behind, then he leans down to rest his chin on my shoulder, his voice a silky whisper in my ear. "Since Gunner is hurting, we'll take it easy on him today. Next time, though, he'll drop to his knees before you and worship your beautiful pussy with his mouth."

I swallow hard at the image of him at my feet, my core spasming with need, and I'm not even sure that I'm breathing. Jameson's husky chuckle has me sagging against him. When he slips his hand between my thighs, he gives a hum of approval. "Do you like that idea, baby? You're already soaked for him, aren't you?"

My eyes lock on Gunner, and I watch the way his eyes dilate, the way he licks his lips as if starving for a taste, and I find myself nodding. He looks ready to push away from the door and take me up on our offer now, but I'm not sure if he's strong enough not to collapse on his face before he reaches me.

"Enough!" Ellis snarls, marching into the bathroom from somewhere behind Gunner. That's when I realize the bathroom is connected to another room, and he must have gotten the full show as well.

His expression is torn between furious and pained, and mortification hits me hard.

Jameson chuckles, and his arm tightens around my waist, preventing me from turning away. "Ah, don't worry about Ellis, baby. He loved watching you come on my fingers like a good girl. Nothing you can do will scare off that kinky fucker. He's just jealous that he has to wait to get a taste of you."

I freeze at his words, not sure what to believe. I cast a cautious look at Ellis and see him swallowing hard, not denying anything. Jameson chuckles again, the husky sound tightening my nipples to the point of pain. "He doesn't mind watching, but he doesn't like to share. He's fighting his desire for you, but he knows you're ours. It's inevitable.

"Maybe after Gunner and I give you enough orgasms, we'll allow him to whisk you away to his secret lair. Would you like that?" He absently swishes his thumb back and forth over my clit, only the thin material of my underwear between us, and I can barely think straight as pleasure starts to build in my core once again.

I have no doubt that Jameson is completely aware of his effect on me.

When he speaks again, his voice drops lower, the husky sound sending shivers down my spine.

"We'll make him watch us touch you, wind him up nicely, then hand you over to him." He presses his lips lightly against my shoulder, brushing his face against my neck, whispering his dirty words in my ear. "I bet he'll wreck your pussy really well."

Something dark and hungry flares in Ellis' brown eyes, a feral look that says he likes the idea.

He blinks and hauls Gunner's arm over his shoulder. "You have quite a breeze going on back here, man. Let's get your ass covered in clothes before you fall on your face and really give her something to gawk at."

I watch Ellis steer the big man away, and I almost take a step after them. I peer up at Jameson in confusion, doing my best to ignore that his face is only inches from mine, his lips right there for a kiss if I were brave enough.

My unease won't allow me to take what I want, though, until I understand what the hell just happened.

"I don't understand. Do guys usually share women?" I scowl at him, and I cross my arms in front of my chest defensively. "Because the idea of any of you with a different girl has me wanting to commit violence."

Jameson kisses me on the tip of my nose, allowing me to escape his sexy teasing, and a breathtaking smile crosses his face. "Nah, it's not typical. Most men are possessive idiots. It's rare to run across someone like you though—someone so perfect that you already feel like you're part of our group. You're one of us…ours."

He closes the distance between us, pushing my hair away from my face and tipping my head back to study me, then he mutters under his breath, "Even if some of our group doesn't know it yet."

I pull away from his tempting touch, not willing to be distracted. "That doesn't answer my question."

"As far as I'm concerned, only you are allowed to touch me." Tossing me a wink, he saunters backward until his knees hit the bed. He falls back, lazily stretching out across the giant mattress, then waves a hand down his mouthwatering body. "Feel free to touch me at any time you want and use my body any way you like. I'm all yours."

I swallow hard at the temptation. His shirt rode up, leaving his toned abs on display, and my mouth waters, wanting to lick his Adonis belt to see if he tastes as good as he looks. I've seen pictures of men in magazines with abs so cut that they look chiseled. I just assumed it was all photoshopped until I met the guys.

His cock is still hard behind his sweatpants. As I watch, it bobs, as if begging for attention, and my core clenches, suddenly feeling achingly empty.

"James, stop teasing her," Jaceson snaps from the doorway, a furrow appearing between his brows as he glares at his brother.

Jameson sighs dramatically, flopping back onto the bed with his hands thrown wide. "Cockblocked by my own brother. I thought you loved me, man. I thought I was your favorite. How could you curse me with blue balls for the rest of the day?"

He jolts upright, wicked amusement dancing in his eyes, and he wiggles his brows comically at his brother. "Unless you want to join us."

Jaceson heaves a sigh, rolling his eyes as if used to his brother's antics, and proceeds to ignore him completely. When he looks at me, his expression is a mixture of confusion and concern. "I know we were set to go to town today, but I'll understand if you want to stay home and off your feet."

"Shopping?" Jameson bounces off the bed like an eager puppy, zipping across the room to disappear into a giant closet. "I'll be ready in five minutes."

Jaceson falls silent, his eyes narrowing on where his brother disappeared, then he stalks across the room. Ignoring the clothes that fly through the air and the dark mutterings from his twin, he gently closes the closet, then pushes the dresser across the front of it.

A devious, satisfied smile crosses his face, and he dusts off his hands. "That should give us enough time to get you to your house. Don't let him pressure you into doing something you're not ready to do."

I hesitate when he stops next to me, unsure if he's talking about the trip to town or the offer to share me. I blow out a slow breath, trying to give my brain time to cope with how the world is constantly shifting around me.

Peopling is fucking hard!

I thought I was desperate to get out of the prison that was my room, but I'm beginning to see that I'm wholly unprepared to face the real world. I smile at Jaceson, loving that he's worried about me. "My feet are fine, though I would love to shower and change before we leave, if that's okay."

I completely ignore the elephant in the room, and he thankfully allows it. He shoots a dubious look at my feet, then purses his lips. "Do you mind if I take a look at your wounds before you try wearing shoes?"

"Sure." I shrug a shoulder, flustered that they are so concerned over a couple of scratches. I've had broken bones that I had to set myself, and no one ever asked if I was okay.

A thump comes from the closet, then a curse. "Guys? You there? Aw, come on. Not again! Let me out!"

Jaceson smirks as pounding sounds from the direction of the closet, amusement dancing in his eyes, then he stalks toward me, scoops me up in his arms, and marches from the room. I wrap my arms around his neck, unsure if I'll ever get used to the guys manhandling me.

The scent of sunshine and the outdoors surrounds me, and I can't resist leaning closer and taking another whiff of him. There is a hitch in Jaceson's stride, but he doesn't look at me as we continue down the stairs and straight out the door.

"You know I can walk, right?" I ask in amusement, secretly enjoying the attention.

A scowl crosses his face, his arms tightening around me. "Not until I see your feet."

With his long strides, it doesn't take much time to get to my front door. When he reaches for the door and it opens under his touch, he gives me a severe look. "You didn't lock your door?"

I want to roll my eyes at the scolding, but I'm a little too uncomfortable that I actually forgot. "We were in a rush with Gunner and everything."

I stop talking, my excuses sounding lame, even to my own ears. Jaceson doesn't say a word, just elbows his way into the house. I expect him to deposit me on the kitchen chair, but he ignores it completely and heads toward the stairs.

He doesn't release me until he steps into my room and gently lowers me to my bed. It feels weird to have him in my room. My father very rarely entered my personal space unless he was searching it for contraband. He would tear everything apart, paying special attention to any items that I might treasure and destroying them with sadistic pleasure.

"Don't move," he orders, then straightens and heads toward the bathroom across the hall. He returns a moment later with a washcloth and bandages, casting me a suspicious look, like he thinks I might have jumped to my feet just to disobey.

I open my mouth to snark at him, then nearly swallow my tongue when he drops to his knees in front of me. Damn Jameson and his dirty words. As much as I try, I can't get the image of Jaceson leaning forward to taste me out of my head.

My face burns, helping me stay focused, and I desperately look at anything but him.

When he drags a finger lightly across the sole of my foot, I jerk, and my attention snaps to him. A tiny furrow appears between his eyebrows. "They are almost healed."

I just shrug. "My body has learned how to heal fast."

Any form of weakness was exploited, and I couldn't afford to be vulnerable.

As if reading my thoughts, Jaceson's expression darkens dangerously, but he thankfully doesn't look up from his task, his touch gentle as he inspects my other foot. "You have a couple of scratches and a few bruises, but you should be okay to walk for a short period."

"See?" I jump to my feet, more than ready to put distance between us and my out of control emotions. "I'm totally fine."

He doesn't move, which means his face is basically buried in my lap. To stop me from toppling over him, he wraps his arms around my thighs and inhales deeply, his grip almost rough. I can feel the calluses on his hands brushing against the sensitive skin on the backs of my thighs, and I can't stop myself from shivering.

Instead of releasing me, he looks up at me with stormy blue eyes. He slowly stands, dragging his hands up my body, causing gooseflesh to erupt across my skin. When he rises to his full height, I'm surrounded by his arms.

Not sure what to expect from him, I don't look away, not even daring to breathe.

His expression is shuttered, his emotions locked down tight, but I can feel the wild thump of his heart under my hands. He's not as unaffected as he wants me to believe.

For a second, he looks vulnerable before he glances away and hides from me. "I'm sorry about my brother. He means well most of the time, but he lives and breathes chaos. He?—"

I reach up and place my hand over his mouth to stop him from speaking. He instantly stills, his gaze snapping down to mine, and he doesn't move. I don't even think he's breathing. "Don't. You are not your brother. You are not his keeper. Anything that happens between him and me is separate from you, just as anything that happens between us is none of his business. You don't need to apologize for him. If he takes things too far, I'll talk to him myself, understand?"

He searches my face, his gaze intense, then he nods. His harsh expression softens, and I feel his lips curve into a smile behind my hand. He raises a single eyebrow in challenge, and I hastily drop my hand like I've been scalded, heat burning my cheeks at my boldness.

He quickly captures my hand, then squeezes it gently. "I… Thank you. Since we're twins, people usually treat us like we're interchangeable. Even the guys do it at times. I love my brother, but I've spent so much of my life trying to keep him out of trouble that people think it's my responsibility."

I snort at the absurdity and roll my eyes, muttering under my breath, "That man needs a whole army to keep him from finding trouble."

A small smile flicks across Jaceson's face, then he bows his head and releases me. I almost reach for him, wanting to pull him back, not ready to let him go so soon. I shiver when cool air rushes around me, and I cross my arms to keep my hands to myself. "Um…I suppose I should get dressed before Jameson hunts us both down. Give me ten minutes."

Giving into the need to run, I rush around the room, collecting clothes for our outing before practically scurrying into the bathroom. Once the door shuts behind me, I lean against it, my clothes clutched to my chest.

A huge smile takes over my face. I practically skip across the room and shower, unable to keep from replaying my first sleepover in my head.

The guys made it perfect, and I can't wait to see what happens next!