CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

"You're planning on taking turns driving me around?" I ask Carter on the ride over to their penthouse after I woke up on their office floor. "Like you take turns on my ass?"

A devious smile curves his lips. "We're not taking turns, pet."

"Breathe" by The Prodigy comes up next in his playlist. His eyes twinkle in that wicked way of his. I bet if we were on the freeway right now, he'd speed up to 160. I'd let my head out and scream something like, "Fuck my parents," into the wind. Until Killian's firm hands would pull me back in.

One of us would have to be the voice of reason. It's damn sure not Carter or me, so—

"We're taking, period."

"I might say no," I challenge, teasing his fly.

His cock swells. Greeting me. I slide my hand back to my lap. No pairing up.

"You might, and we'll ignore you." He raises an eyebrow. "Unless the no turns to begonias."

"What if I forget?" My saccharine sweet voice has his eyes snapping to mine. He sees through my playfulness. I continue anyway, "What if my floaty brain says petunias instead?"

"Brat." Carter's smirk doesn't fool me. His hold on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles whitening at the prospect of spanking me. "We'll remind you about begonias. Then slam into you until you scream it."

"You're going to be rough?" I whisper, pretending to be scared.

"Oh, baby. Your pussy will be so sore." Though his eyes are on the road, I feel every ounce of his attention on me. "You won't be able to walk for days."

"And you two?"

"Don't worry about us, pet." Carter's smile bathes the inside of his Porsche with darkness. A decadent one. "We'll have enough of each other when we fuck your pretty pussy. Together."

"I'll scratch your chests." Heat rushes down my body, thinking of them both in my pussy together. "Make you bleed."

"Tease." Carter shoots me a look. "You'll live to regret it."

"Doubt it." I probably will.

I imagine I would as early as this evening. When Killian's back from work and it's just the three of us in the penthouse. There were arrangements to be made for Luna's upcoming wedding and he had to stay late.

A wedding Opal and I are a part of as well. Giddiness fills my belly, remembering the moment Luna hired me to make her bridal bouquet and flower arrangements.

Weeks ago, on the day I hired Opal, I blabbered about my wedding venture to her. Luna fired her flower vendor that same moment and hired me on the spot.

She chose my shop. Mine.

Not yours.

A twinge of sadness ruins what little joy I had. Unless a miracle happens, I won't have a shop in two weeks.

Carter and Killian might let me bring my plants and flowers to their place to keep them alive. They would, I just know it. But I can't ask them about that.

I'm already asking too much. Their affection. Their home.

Asking them to live with the dirt and Opal and me messing up their perfect home is out of the question.

My smile falters, lead weighing heavy on my soul. I look down at the hotel concierge uniform they gave me. Better focus on the beautiful black pencil skirt. On the perfect fit of the black dress shirt.

Anything but this.

"What is it, A?" Carter's fingers find mine, prying them from my lap. Holding my hand over the console. Rubbing his thumb over my palm. "Talk to me."

I groan. I left the hotel smiling. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"Nothing." Lying to Carter pains me, so I turn my head away toward the passenger window. Toward the outside world.

Concrete and glass. People yapping on their phones. Cars and yellow cabs.

Life goes on. And so will mine.

I shake my head, a new sense of determination flowing through me. I'm far better now than I was when I talked to my parents this morning. My men filled the hollow spaces in my heart, and I'm ready to fight. Or at least shake off this crappy feeling.

"You have us." He brings my hand to his lips, biting me when I fail to answer. "You're not alone. You won't ever be. If I have to carve another million Os into your skin so you'll remember, I will. I'll mark every inch of your skin with Cyclone. Killian might join the fun."

"I was thinking." A smile that isn't so forced anymore creeps up my lips. "My parents won't win. They don't love me? Fucking fine. I don't love them right back."

"That's my girl." Carter's teeth bite into me a second time. "They don't deserve your love. Never have. Never will. You're special. One of a fucking kind. They're the assholes who are too dumb to see it."

"Fuck, when you say stuff like that"—my eyes lower to his erection, my thighs clenching—"all I want to do is go drag Killian back home and never leave."

Oh, shit. Home. I called their place our home.

Carter doesn't blink. Totally comfortable.

"And I thought I was insatiable." His short laugh reaches straight to my pussy. "At this rate, we'll have to add another man just to keep you satisfied."

"Why?" I don't stop before I spit out what's on my mind. I rarely do. "So there'll be three of you to beat up anyone who looks at me the wrong way?"

Carter slams the brakes at a red light. Hard. Too hard. My head flies forward.

"Today was a one-off." He levels me with his serious gaze. Any trace of humor has been wiped off his face. "Beating up members isn't something we do."

My question was supposed to be a tease. But now that Carter's avoiding it, I'm curious. My earlier suspicions resurface, bubbling and demanding answers.

"Why?"

"They're rich, entitled pricks that like to mingle in our hotel. Most of them are just that. Smug. Not idiots." He presses the gas, giving the road his undivided attention. "They know better than to test us. Christopher slipped. I wish I could fucking kill him for how he treated you."

"You'd do that for me?" The car rumbles as we descend into the parking garage of his apartment building. My heaved, excited breaths are louder. "Kill someone?"

"You'd like that?" The creases on his forehead are no more. Carter tilts his head to me, raising an eyebrow. "Would that turn you on, pet? Me slitting someone's throat for you?"

Yes. Very much so.

"Well, actually killing someone might be taking it too far." Another lie. It wounds my soul to do it. Sadly, it's my only choice.

The truth will make him think I'm sick. I couldn't hide my excitement when he bashed Christopher's head into the marble bar. The crack sounds. The trickle of blood down his forehead. Watching it ignited dark, decadent desires inside of me.

My pussy dripped for Killian and Carter like never before.

Their brutality is better than watching my flowers blooming. And that's saying a lot.

Then again, who would want a girl who thinks gore is hot?

Maybe them? Maybe.

I'll wait for the right time. Spring my crazy on them once we're solid.

"You liked what we did to him," Carter deadpans, pulling up into his parking space. "Don't lie to me."

He's curious. Probing. If I'm not careful, he'll suck the truth right out of me.

"I got wet," I offer him a half-truth. "Can you blame a girl? You two went all possessive cavemen back there."

He opens his mouth to, undoubtedly, resume his line of questioning.

I'm quicker than him.

"Are you really okay with the three of us together?" I know he is, but I have to change the subject.

"Yes." His eyebrows scrunch, gray eyes studying me. "Fucking love it."

Swiftly, I'm out of my seat and straddling his lap. "Tell me more."

He groans when I shove my fingernails into his soft, black hair. I don't grind my hips, simply resting there, feeling his cock straining between us. Thriving on his heated gaze.

Mission accomplished. The man's distracted.

"The three of us, together." Carter's hands hover at my sides, and he drops them to his sides, cursing. "We have a future. In a twisted, fucked up way, we were meant to be. This is forever, Amara. To the grave and beyond it. For-fucking-ever."

I squint my eyes. While I meant this to be a diversion, our conversation has turned out to be something I've been longing to hear. This is the sincerest Carter has been about his feelings.

"Turned on and satisfied." He grips my jaw, bringing my mouth to his. "That's how I like seeing you."

His kiss is soft. Even his bite is gentle like he isn't after my blood.

"Tonight." Lifting me, he helps me back to my seat. He gets out, walks around the hood, and opens the passenger door for me, outstretching his arm which I quickly take. "Kill and I will have more of your satisfied moans. More of your pussy dripping on us."

"Only if I get to have your cum on me." I flash him a mischievous smile. "On my tits, on my face, on my—"

"Amara." He pinches my bruised ass. I squeak, and he laughs. "You're driving me fucking nuts."

His laugh is contagious. Incredibly so. I squeal, taking off and sprinting toward the elevators.

His feet pound on the asphalt, chasing me.

How did I ever get so lucky?

One of my parents' choice words to describe me was vulgar.

Fuck them. I'm my own person and do whatever the hell I please.

Meaning yawn without covering my mouth when I wake up from my nap. It's been almost twenty-four hours since the Christopher incident, and it's still weighing heavily on me.

Once Carter and Killian left for the hotel, I meant to call Opal about Luna's wedding, run things by her one last time. But my body decided otherwise.

Until now.

I stretch out in Carter's enormous bed, wiggling my toes under the soft covers.

Carter and Killian aren't back yet. I don't expect them for another few hours. I snatch the phone from the nightstand, consider calling Opal, then decide against it. She deserves to have the weekend off.

Besides, I don't feel like telling her our shop is no more. I don't feel like talking about it at all.

Even if it's temporary.

Nope.

Would that turn you on, pet? Me slitting someone's throat for you?

Carter's questions from yesterday resurface. Why would he ask that?

What else is he hiding?

Unlocking my phone, I browse the internet for news on Voltage. This would be the first time I've done it. Up until today, I've never researched them.

When Reece, their purchasing manager, called me, I was too excited to do anything other than accept his offer. They were a huge client for my small business. The break I needed.

I squealed. I danced in place. Ever since, they've always paid on time. I left it at that.

My dad would've had more choice words for me for not doing my research.

Stupid. Airheaded. Reckless.

I prefer trusting and optimistic.

My gut told me I was heading in the right direction. Which I was.

The past six months have been incredible.

But I don't like feeling left in the dark. Don't like the feeling of being made stupid.

I'm giving my heart to these two men, but I have to know. I have to.

One hour later, and nothing.

No press interviews. No official website.

Diddly fucking squat.

Voltage is an exclusive, members-only hotel. It would've been strange if something did pop up. Right?

Right.

I'm about to get out of bed and head to the shower when a message notification flashes on my phone.

A smile tears at my lips when I see who it is. Them.

They opened a group chat.

Killian: We're headed home early. Take off the T-shirt you're in and wait for us.

Obsessive, stalker men. I look straight into the camera in Carter's room, stick my tongue out, and hide under the covers.

Muffin: Hope your pussy is ready.

Muffin: Scratch that. I hope you're sore. I'm into inflicting pain today.

I'm still hiding from them. Still not showing them whether I took my T-shirt off or not.

Just to poke them a little more, I type out: When are you not?

Killian: Amara, if you're looking for trouble, you have it.

Me: Oh, thank fuck. I thought I'd have to beg.

Muffin: We're so tying you up.

Killian: And spanking your ass. Your cunt too.

I change Killian's name on my phone to Killie, then tease them with a lie.

Me: Sorry, no can do. I have plans. I'm going shopping with Opal.

Killie: You know what? We take it back. You're not getting fucked in a comfortable bed. We're fucking you here. Tonight.

Whatever happens in their hotel ceases to interest me. Without letting them see me, I wrangle out of my T-shirt and throw it over the covers before snatching my arm back inside.

Killie: Put that shirt back on. I'm picking you up.

Muffin: If you're thinking about being a brat, don't. What you're going to go through today will be painful enough.

Excitement rushes through me. I'll never not want the kind of pain they promise.

Me: How long do I have to be ready?

No other message comes through. Another form of torture.

Another pain I happily take on as I rush to change into one of my old, plain, red and blue dresses the two men can rip right off me.