My body finally relaxes as I look into his eyes, so genuine there’s no way I couldn’t believe him. “You were on the phone,” I murmur.
He nods. “With Elliot. He’s out working with Rhett. They’re on their way home.”
What a short shift. And what an odd time to be at work.
Oliver glances away, red filling his cheeks. “I . . . can’t really sleep when they’re gone.” He rubs the back of his neck.
So they do live together.
“You don’t work with them?” I run a hand through his hair, letting the feeling ground me.
“No, I do. But we didn’t want to leave you here alone.” He kisses the tip of my nose.
I tilt my head, watching him. It’s sweet—although this conversation is bringing up about ten more questions about what type of relationship these men have with each other.
“You’re still shaking.” He lifts me up and carries me to the couch, where he settles me on his lap with a blanket. “Are you tired?”
I sigh. My heart rate has returned to normal, and the feeling of the darkness chasing me disappeared the second Oliver’s arms wrapped around me. “I think I’m getting there.”
He kisses my forehead, and I quickly move to capture it with my mouth. He smiles against my lips. “Try to relax. I promise you won’t wake up alone again.”
So I do. With my head settled against his chest, I close my eyes. The sound of his steady heartbeat in my ear soothes me, and it’s not long before I’m drifting off to sleep again.
CHAPTER SIX
OLIVER
AFTER THE guys make it home, I’m able to get a few hours of sleep. But when the sun rises, so do I.
I settle into my usual morning spot—a small table in the sunroom, overlooking the front yard—and pull up an article Rhett sent me last night.
The house is quiet. Elliot took Wren back up to bed after he showered, and he won’t wake until around ten. As for Rhett, he disappeared to one of his usual hiding places, probably to brood. I don’t think he quite knows what to do with the effect Wren is having on him—on all of us.
As if my thoughts conjure her, she steps into the sunroom. She’s still only dressed in Elliot’s T-shirt, with her hair pulled into a messy bun on the top of her head.
“Morning, princess.” I sip my coffee before smiling at her, setting my phone down. The article can wait—it’s boring, anyway. “Hungry?”
She nods, stretching her arms up over her head with a yawn. Just as I thought, she’s not wearing anything underneath that shirt. Probably because I’m an ass and hid her panties from her last night.
What can I say? I was hoping for a moment like this.
She realizes I’m watching her and drops her arms with a blush.
“C’mere.” I uncross my legs and pat on my lap. When she straddles me, planting a happy kiss on my lips, I have to stifle a groan.
“Thank you for comforting me last night,” she whispers, rewarding me with another kiss. Then her head drops. “I’m kinda embarrassed now. But the dark—I swear, the older I get, the more I’m scared of it.”
“We all have our worst fears, Wren.” I run a hand down her back.
“What’s yours?” She tilts her head just like she did last night when I had her in my arms on the piano bench.
I pause. Sure, there’s the usual shit—spiders, bugs, heights, etc. But nothing—and I mean nothing—compares to the physical pain in my chest whenever I realize I could lose one of the people I care about the most.
It feels strangely intimate to tell that to Wren, but I do anyway. I did have my dick buried in her last night, after all.
She listens to me, nodding, and we fall into silence while we watch each other. She missed some of her hair when she put it up, and the strands fall to the sides of her head, framing her face. It makes her look like an angel in the morning sunlight.
After a moment, she swallows. Then she blurts, “I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
“Do you—do you do this often?”
I grin. “Spend my mornings with beautiful women on my lap? Unfortunately, no.”
She rolls her eyes. “That’s not what I mean. Do you guys . . . take women home often?”
Ah.
“We’ve all brought our fair share of people home separately.”
She bites her lip, and I wait for her to ask what she really wants to know. “But never . . . together?”
I chuckle. “No. You’re the first. And from the looks of things, the last.” I watch her closely as her eyes fill with relief and then unease.
Fuck. That probably didn’t come out right.
“Not like that, princess.” I palm her back in long up-and-down strokes. “I don’t think we’ll ever be able to top last night with someone else. And I think the guys agree.”
I mean it. I really, truly do. The three of us have been together in one way or another since high school. And we’ve never shared a woman together. Never wanted to—until Wren.
Her eyes go wide as she blushes again. I kiss the embarrassment right out of her until she’s panting when I pull away. Knowing I put that light in her eyes makes my heart swell with pride. But there’s a hint of nervousness as well.
Which, if I’m being reasonable, is understandable. I basically told her that she’s so fucking special to us that no woman could ever have the same kind of chokehold that she has on us.
Well, that’s sort of what I said.
Regardless, it’s a lot for the poor woman to take in.
My stomach growls, and she giggles. “You haven’t eaten breakfast yet?”
I give her a devious smile. “Oh, I’m about to.”
She perks up. “What are you gonna have?”
“Something I’ve been wanting to taste for a long time but haven’t been able to.”
Her eyebrows knit together as she gives me an odd look. “Uh, okay? What’s that?”
Goddamn. She really is as oblivious as Elliot. “You, princess.”
Her mouth falls open in a shocked smile as I lift her onto the table in front of me, careful not to spill my coffee. I hand it to her, and she takes a sip as I spread her legs and get a good look at her. She’s fucking perfect.
Holding her legs, I dive in like a man starved. And, when it comes to her, I kinda am. Finally, I get to taste her. She lets out a squeak, and I hear my coffee mug clang on the table.
“Oh god, Oliver.” One of her hands fists my hair, and I welcome the pain as I eat her out.
I go gentle on her clit, figuring it’s still sensitive from all the attention it got last night. When I delve inside her with my tongue, she rocks her hips into my face. I nip at her skin lightly, and she gasps.
“Hold still, please. I’m trying to enjoy my breakfast.”
She giggles, and the sound lights up my goddamned soul. I trace my tongue in a circle around her clit a few times.
“Oliver, please—why—ohhhh.” She shudders when I finally suck it into my mouth.
I relish in the satisfaction of being able to take away her ability to form full sentences, just like Elliot did last night. I tease her with the tip of my tongue, going too lightly, and she lets out a frustrated noise.
“Do you want to come, princess?” I slide a single finger inside of her.