Royally Shared (The Triple Crown Club #1)

Because I had that itch. I had that nagging, pulling feeling of wanting her — to watch her face as I slid inside, and watch her mouth open in a moan as I filled her. Sharing her with Erik and Oliver was phenomenal of course. We’d shared plenty of women over the years, but they were faded imitations of whatever this was with Mia. Nothing in a million women could ever be as intense, or as perfect as it was with the three of us and her.

But then, I also wanted a taste of my own, too. Of course, what we had was shared between all of us, but I also wanted that moment of just her and I.

I rapped my knuckles on her doorframe before stepping inside.

My grin faded — empty.

Shit.

I grumbled as I headed downstairs, through the huge living room, past the downstairs library, and the study, past the doors out to the gardens, and into the kitchen.

I loved this place — big enough for all three of us, away from the city, and yet close enough to go when we needed. I rolled my eyes as I caught myself wondering if this place was big enough for four.

Jesus, and I used to be a hard ass.

Oliver was in the kitchen, and he grinned as I stepped in.

“You were looking for her, weren’t you?”

I shrugged casually. “No.”

“Your shirt’s unbuttoned and I can practically see your blue balls from here.”

“Ass,” I flipped him off with a grin.

Oliver chuckled. “She went up to the east library wing to make some calls.”

“Family and stuff, huh?”

“Yeah.”

For a second, I could hear some sort of sound outside — something mechanical barely in the distance. I frowned, wondering if we had a gardener coming out today.

“For what it’s worth,” I glanced back as Oliver cleared his throat. “I was looking for her too.”

We both laughed as Oliver hit the brew button on the espresso machine. “Man,” he shook his head. “She’s—”

“It.”

He nodded. “Yeah, man. She is.”

“Could we do this? Her, here, with all of us?”

He shrugged. “What do you think?”

“I think not having her here would kill me.”

“Well, there’s your answer.”

That mechanical noise outside got louder, and this time we both frowned at the sound.

“The fuck is that?”

Erik ducked into the kitchen. “You guys going into the city or something?”

I scowled. “No?”

He looked at me quizzically. “Well then why the fuck is there a helicopter landing on the—”

We froze for one millisecond, before we bolted. Oliver’s espresso cup dropped to ground and shattered as we dashed for the stairs, blood pounding.

“Mia!” I roared, charging ahead at the top of the stairs and running full tilt down the hall to the library wing.

“Mia!” Erik went crashing through the doors to the library— …Just in time to see them carrying her to the ladder dangling from the copter.

My world went black.

“Mia!”

I was somewhat aware of taking the metal stairs three at a time with Erik and Oliver right at my heels. Barely conscious of smashing through a side table and chair, and seeing white fury as I crashed right through the glass doors to the balcony as they bound her to the ladder and started to rise.

I ran forward, roaring like a fucking animal as the helicopter rose, taking the women we loved and the men who’d stolen her away.

The helicopter rose higher, and I watched through blood-tinged vision as it turned and flew away over the trees.

Gone, and taking our Mia with them.





Chapter 21





Oliver




Cunningham.

We knew who it was the second we realized what was happening, but our people confirmed it five minutes later when we went into full war-mode. Motherfucking Cunningham had taken her.

The gun clicked in my hand as I chambered a round and clicked on the safety.

I thought I’d hated him before. I thought I’d hated him more than I could hate anything for what he’d done to Amy.

And then this happened.

Then he’d come and torn our hearts out all over again, by snatching the one woman we’d ever thought of in that way. Men like us? Well, we’d given up on the idea of feeling the L word a long time ago. We figured we were too broken, too far gone, too dark for a word like love.

And then we’d met Mia, and everything we’d known had changed in a second. In one single goddamn second, the construct we’d built around the place in our chests where hearts should have been went shattering to pieces. Because in that one single second, we knew we’d been wrong.

Because it took one second for all three of us to fall in love with Mia Thorne.

…And Ryan Cunningham needed only one second more to take her away.

I slammed the gun down and grabbed a second, shoving the cartridge in with a sharp snapping sound.

Cunningham had officially fucked with the wrong guys.

He didn’t know about Amy — well, at least didn’t know our connection to her. That’d been part of our goal with getting back into the scene at the Auction House, in order to get close to him so we could take him out. But he knew about Mia alright.

And he’s just hit our breaking point, whether he knew it or not. This was it — this was the line that snapped us over the edge.

The plan to take him out was a long-term one, and there were a few months left before we’d planned our final move. But now? Well, now Cunningham had moved that deadline up.

Considerably.

Because today was the day we acted.

Today was the day he died.

They’d fucked with the wrong guys. For one, because we were past caring now. But for two?

I smiled grimly.

Well, for two, because we dealt fucking guns for a living.

I glanced around the stockade — what we called the subterranean network of supply rooms, barracks, and garages that we’d built beneath the mansion. I could almost laugh. Yeah, bad fucking move, Ryan. The place was a literal fucking arsenal that rivaled the armies of most small counties.

And now we were locked, loaded, and ready to go.

“Oliver.”

I glanced up to see Erik looking grim as he slung a shotgun over his back. “Helicopter inbound. Let’s go do this.”

“Let’s go get our girl back,” Ash growled, strapping a wicked-looking knife to his leg.

I nodded.

Because we would get her back.

And then we’d kill every single one of the bastards that took her.





Chapter 22





Mia




“I’m a man of certain tastes, Mia.”

I shivered at the cold steel of the blade, swallowing thickly as Ryan dragged the dull side of it against my cheek.

Ryan’s midtown penthouse apartment was the entire top two floors of a building — all glass walls looking out over the twinkling city lights. It’d be beautiful, in another situation.

One where I wasn’t tied to a chair in his living room while he breathed down my neck and teased a blade against my skin.

“Now,” he said. “I know where you’ve been, and who you’ve been with.”

He shook his head, eyes narrowing as he moved in front of me and leveled them at me.

“You know, some might call you damaged goods, but me? Well, to me, you’re not.” He smiled wickedly as he twirled the blade in front of my eyes. “Well, not yet you aren’t.”

“You let me the fuck go.”

He grinned. “A kitty with claws, I see.”

“Fuck you.”

He sucked on his teeth, making a “tsking” sound.

“I thought they’d break you in, those three. Guess they failed.” He chuckled to himself. “Guess they weren’t man enough.”