Page 59 of Vipers & Roses

“Well, I guess I can’t offend Nonna Bernardi,” I say, satisfied that they’re not drugging me. Instinctively, I know they’re not the type, but I’m extra cautious since a couple of paid thugs just threatened me. Fuck Lyons.

Grabbing another slice under their watch, I bite it into it, and the atmosphere relaxes as the boys chat about their youth and Nonna Bernardi’s intolerance of Cormac’s Irish mom’s cooking. My ears prick, and my heart flutters every time Gabe is mentioned. They both call him Big Gabe, which I find endearing, and it’s evident they hold enormous respect for him.

After listening for about forty minutes, I noticed they never talk about Cormac’s mom in the present tense but rather when reminiscing about their childhoods. I wonder if she has left them or passed away. I don’t ask because I don’t want to ruin the moment, but I enjoy being in the company of two intriguing and hot men as they open up about their childhoods.

Fatigue wears me down a little after such an eventful and dramatic day, and when I yawn, the guys stop talking.

“Are we that boring?” Blake jokes.

“No, I had a long day and,” check the time on my phone, “I probably should go home.”

“Stay over,” Blake suggests, pointing his thumb behind him to the hallway where his bedroom is. He must’ve caught the fear in my eyes because he added, “I won’t touch. I’ll sleep on the couch while you take my bed.”

I look to Cormac for input since it was his place where I was supposed to stay tonight, but he shrugs those shoulders. “This was not exactly what I imagined this night would go.”

“Stay over too, bro. Look, you and Rae have the bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch,” Blake offers, and Cormac’s gaze warms as he looks at me.

“Is that cool?” he asks me.

I nod a yes, finding this situation odd. “Do you mind if I head to bed now?” I ask Blake, barely able to keep my eyes open and yawning again.

“Sure,” Blake says, pushing his chair back and standing up. “I’ll show you the way and tuck you in.”

I grab my bag and follow Blake down the hall to his bedroom. There, I find a king-size bed covered in a dark blue comforter. But it’s a warm night, so I’ll probably sleep under a single sheet. The room smells of Blake’s cologne and soap mixed with something else, maybe gunpowder. Joke.

I sit on the end of the bed and take my hair out as he lingers by the door, those dark eyes watching my golden hair tumble down my back. He moves closer, and I gaze up at that open face, dimpled cheek, and those eyes smile at me.

“We’re not here to hurt you, Rae,” he whispers, stroking my hair with his hand, moving to the nape of my neck and tilting my head toward his face. “I’m just down the hall if you need me. Okay?”

I nod and part my lips as he leans down and possesses my mouth, slipping his tongue inside me, dancing with my tongue, running it over my teeth and gums, drawing an erotic sigh from me. My hands latched onto his muscular forearms, digging my fingers into his skin.

He pulls away too soon and kisses my forehead before leaving, and I reluctantly let his arms go. As soon as the door is closed, fatigue claims me, and I peel off my clothes and bra, slip on an old T-shirt, and strip back the sheets.

My head sinks into the pillow, inhaling the scent of shampoo, as the gentle murmurs of the two men only a wall away send me into a much-needed slumber.

27

The mattress sinks, and my sleep is broken. Cormac peels back the sheet and climbs into the bed next to me. I didn’t hear him come in, nor did I listen to him strip his clothes off to a pair of briefs. I’ve seen this man wearing very little at the pool before, but this is different.

“What time is it?” I ask in a voice croaky with sleep.

“After eleven. I’ve got an early start with training,” he groans, disappointed. I gotta get up at five.”

“So, you’re leaving me early in the morning anyway,” I say, closing my eyes as he nestles into the bed. A long, smooth arm wraps around my torso, pulling me close, and my chest tightens. It’s been over two years since I’ve let myself get this close to a man, and my body’s natural reaction is adverse and fear-based. Immediately, I shut down no matter how much I want it. And I do want it. I truly do.

His face nestles into my neck, kissing and nibbling as his hand runs up and down my thigh. It feels nice, and I’m turned on by it as my panties are quickly drenched, but my brain hasn’t caught up with the rest of me, and flashes of The Four storm into the scene.

Their putrid smell, rough touch, brutality, sneering laughter, jeering each other on as if I was a caged rabbit, caught for the specific purpose of torture for their pleasure. I hate them.

I hate them.

Sensing my body freeze at his touch, Cormac pulls away and rolls over to his side of the bed. “Not ready yet, huh?”

I sigh through the guilt for rejecting his touch, but at least he understands. “I’m sorry. I want to, but…”

“Maybe when you’re ready, you can tell me what happened so I can better understand you,” his deep voice vibrates against my skin even though we’re not touching.

“I can’t. Not yet.” It’s still raw and far too fresh in my mind, but mostly, I can’t tell him because he’ll ask more questions and want to know who did it, and then I’d have to lie. I think the foundations of this newborn relationship have already been tainted with lies, their lies, to be precise.

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