Oliver slows, giving me a chance to catch my breath. Rhett pushes himself in further, holding onto my hips.
“You’re doing so well, Wren.” I don’t know who says it—I’m too lost in the new sensations, in the way they both feel inside me.
My eyes meet Elliot’s, and I find him watching with an appreciative look on his face. But I only catch his gaze for a moment before my eyes close from pure bliss.
“Oh fuck,” I whisper, grabbing onto Oliver’s shoulders.
He chuckles. “I don’t think she’s going to last long.” As if to prove his point, his free hand snakes down my front, and he presses his thumb against my clit.
Tiny explosions erupt with every movement he makes. Rhett keeps his pace slow and steady, but Oliver’s thrusts turn rougher as they push me closer to the edge.
One of Rhett’s hands wraps around my throat, squeezing lightly. And then I’m coming, lost between the two of them. Rhett’s other hand clamps over my mouth as I scream, and it only makes me come harder.
They don’t relent—not until my body calms down, just to be manipulated into another earth-shattering orgasm. When they both finally come, my legs are shaking, and their arms are the only things keeping me from collapsing onto the floor in a shivering puddle.
Someone takes me into the shower, washing my hair and cleaning the sweat off my body. The faint smell of sandalwood and sweet citrus calms me as he dries me off.
And then my body is swinging, a pair of strong arms lifting me off the floor and carrying me.
Dread pangs in my heart, and I can’t get rid of the nagging feeling that there’s something I need to do. But I’m too sated and dazed to figure it out, so I drift off to sleep, sandwiched between two warm bodies.
WHEN I WAKE, it’s dark out. I’m on a couch, my head resting on someone’s leg. Flames flicker in the fireplace, the only light in the room.
“She needs to go,” someone says. Elliot, I think.
“I don’t want her to.” Oliver’s voice is pouty, and it puts a small smile on my lips.
“I’m pretty sure she works Mondays. She’s gonna have to get home so she can get ready for work in the morning.”
Are they talking about me?
“Why?” Oliver says too loudly, almost angrily. “Why can’t we figure out a way to make this work? She means something to all of us, so why not just admit it to her? We can take care of her.”
“That’s way too fast, O,” Rhett says from above me. His hand comes down to stroke my hair, and I have to fight the urge to look up at him. I want to hear where this conversation is going.
Elliot sighs. “Oliver, you literally said just Friday that it’s a bad idea to pursue a relationship with her.”
“Well, I changed my fucking mind. I can’t go back to just seeing her once a week. And neither of you can, either.”
Oh my god, they’re talking about me.
“I’ve been contemplating finding a new coffee shop,” Elliot says in a defeated voice. He sounds . . . deflated.
“You’re never going to get her out of your head, Ell. You said so yourself. We’ve wanted her for so long, and we never thought we could have her, but now she’s here. How can you let her go?”
My heart squeezes. Are they really so head-over-heels for me that the thought of seeing me without having me would be that hard? Hard enough to make them switch coffee shops?
Wait. Why do they think they can’t have me?
“What about what Wren wants?” Rhett’s hand moves to my shoulder, running down my arm. “What if she wants us, too?”
I do. Fuck being careful.
“What if she doesn’t? Besides, we all know it’d be too complicated. Our sleep schedules are a mess, and it’s not like we can change that. And what about—”
“I know,” Oliver snaps, and I can just barely see him slump in his chair in my peripheral vision.
“We need to take her home, and then we need to leave her alone,” Elliot says. “This weekend has been amazing—a fantasy come true. But that’s all it’s been. A fantasy. We need to let her go and try to forget about her.”
No, I shout in my head. But the sound echoes throughout the room, very real and very audible.
“Fuck,” Rhett mutters, pulling me up and into his lap. “How much of that did you hear?”
Tears spring to my eyes, but I blink them back. This is exactly what I was afraid of. I caught fucking feelings, and they’re going to do their best to forget me regardless of what I want. What they want.
I try to slide off his lap, but he holds me to him.
“What all did you hear, sweetheart?”
I turn to Elliot, and his face falls at my hurt expression. Yesterday, he made the claim that he cared about me more than any of the men who came before him. And I agreed with him. But now? Now, he just wants to forget me.
“Why?”
He sighs. “It’s . . . complicated, love.”
“Don’t call me that.”
He winces.
This was a mistake. This was a huge, giant mistake, and it’s going to make your life so much more fucking miserable.
“I want to go home.”
“Absolutely not.”
I think we’re all surprised when the words spill from Elliot’s lips. I try to squirm from Rhett’s arms, but he just holds onto me tighter.
“Not like this.” Elliot stands, coming to crouch in front of me. “I need you to understand, Wren. It’s not because I don’t want you. We all do. But our lives are . . . different from other people’s. It’s not easy, and it’s not always safe.”
As he explains, I remember how they’ve all avoided telling me what they do for a living. Are they spies? Assassins or something?
“I don’t understand,” I say flatly.
He rubs his face with his hands. “I guess I’m worried we’d add more stress to your life than happiness, lov-Wren.”
“But you won’t know unless you try,” I whisper. My tears have come back, and one falls onto my cheek.
He brushes it away tenderly, shaking his head. “I don’t think it’s worth the risk. You don’t know what you’re walking into.”
Then explain it to me, I want to yell.
Is this weekend the universe playing some cruel joke on me? Breaking my heart, showing me that there are kind men out there, and then ripping them from my grasp?
No. No.
I can’t watch myself fall apart again. I don’t care if it’s only been a weekend. Somehow these men have stolen my heart, in a much bigger capacity than I was prepared for.
And I can’t just walk away.
I twist, looking at Rhett. “Let me go.” When he hesitates, I brush my fingers across his cheek. “I won’t run.”
He swallows, his gaze piercing me, like he’s looking straight into my heart. And then he releases me with a sigh.
Elliot touches my arm. “Wren, I think you should—”