“Have you heard from the other camps?” Bethany asked.
“No, but that’s a good thing. That means they’re focused on the mission and executing it. If we’d already heard back from them, that’d mean someone broke away from the outpost attacks and had to flee for safety.” Reese set down her fork and washed the breakfast down with a gulp of water. “Anyway, thanks for breakfast, but I’ve gotta go.”
“Want to hold Archer before you leave?” Bethany tipped her head to the infant.
“No, thanks.” The refusal came out brusquer than Reese intended.
“He won’t bite,” Bethany said with a laugh.
“You gotta hold him, Reese. He smells so good. Like an angel,” Christine cooed.
“You know you want to.” Bethany clearly meant to tease, but the expectant look in both her and Christine’s eyes stung Reese.
She stared at them coldly until the light faded in Bethany’s eyes and the woman shifted uncomfortably. Even Christine got the hint, sliding back in her chair as if to make herself a smaller target.
Fuck. Reese hated that she’d brought a chill into Bethany’s room. Hated that there was distance growing between herself and her friend. But she was helpless to stop it, and she knew it ran so much deeper than envy over the baby. Reese wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to look at Bethany again without the guilt of Arch’s death breathing down her neck.
She took a breath and pushed the rising guilt aside. Feeling too much was what had pushed Jake over the edge. She needed control, needed to forget about emotions, because emotions would only get everyone killed, from old Anna and Scott to the newborn in Bethany’s arms.
So, no. She wasn’t allowed to feel. She was only allowed to act. And there was only one way to make sure the people under her care remained safe.
The total annihilation of the council.
21
Rylan opened his eyes to find a heavily muscled arm flung over his chest. Shit, no wonder he’d been dreaming about suffocating. Sloan’s arm was like an iron beam. And his callused hand was curled so protectively around Rylan’s left pec that it brought a choked laugh to his lips. Even in slumber Sloan wanted to protect the people he cared about.
Rylan had never thought he’d be welcomed into that very exclusive circle.
“Sloan,” he wheezed softly. “Can’t breathe.”
The man beside him stirred, head lifting as his dark eyes slitted open. “Pussy.”
He swallowed another laugh. “Not my fault you weigh a million pounds.”
“You calling me fat?”
The rumble of indignation had him running a hand through Sloan’s short hair. “Nah. You’re just big-boned.”
“Fucker.” And then a pair of sharp teeth dug into Rylan’s shoulder.
Okay, this was messed up. Who woulda thought he’d be cuddling in bed with Sloan, of all people? Not to mention joking around with the man. The man who Rylan had always believed was allergic to humor. It felt really fucking nice waking up this way, though. Only thing that would’ve made it better was if Reese were still snuggled up between them.
He craned his neck and peered around the bedroom. “Where’s Reese?” He’d been sleeping so soundly he hadn’t even felt her slide out of bed.
Sloan, of course, proved yet again that he was always aware of Reese’s movements. “Snuck out around dawn,” Sloan said in a sleepy voice. “She’s an early riser.”
“And you didn’t go with her?”
“She likes to go for a run after she wakes up. Not my workout of choice.”
Rylan snickered. “Let me guess, you prefer your exercise routine to involve your dick.”
Sloan didn’t take the bait. “Naw. I do pushups.”
Before he could stop himself, Rylan skimmed his hand down Sloan’s arm, tracing the defined muscles of his biceps and forearms. Damn, those pushups were doing their job.
“Speaking of dicks,” Sloan murmured.
Rylan groaned when a warm hand encircled his morning wood. Sloan gave a slow, languid pump, and the bolt of excitement that whipped up Rylan’s spine would’ve knocked him on his ass if he hadn’t been lying down. His body’s swift, lusty response floored him. His cock had gotten so much action last night it was a miracle it could still function.
“You’re a sex addict,” he muttered, but he didn’t swat Sloan’s hand away.
“Three years of celibacy,” Sloan muttered back. “That kind of torture turns a man into an animal.” And then the self-proclaimed animal slid down and took Rylan’s erection in his mouth.