Page 39 of Save Me
The car ride back to the penthouse is quiet, almost reflective. No one speaks. I don’t think anyone has anything to say right now, so why waste breath on inane conversation?
When we arrive back, the penthouse feels too big, too empty. Quen’s hand finds my elbow, guiding me away from the others. His eyes search mine, brows pinched with worry.
“Vogue, are you sure about leaving Crestmont?” Quen’s voice is low, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s trying to keep his emotions in check.
I nod, not trusting my voice just yet. Choices like these don’t come easy, but sometimes life doesn’t give you the luxury of easy choices. “I’ve thought it through. Albeit quickly and with force, but it feels right. This is something I have to do.”
His gaze doesn’t waver, and I can see him wrestling with the urge to argue, to protect. But he knows as well as I do, that I have to do this.
“Okay,” he finally says, and that single word promises support.
“I’m not giving up. Not completely,” I tell him, my voice steady even as I feel the weight of the decision pressing down on me. “I’ll keep at it, part-time. It’ll take me longer, but this was my dream. I’m not giving it up.”
Quen listens, his expression tight, but I can tell he’s hearing me. That’s all I ask for—just someone to listen. He nods once, and I know he gets it.
“Okay,” he says. “As long as you’re sure.”
“I am.” I turn away from him, my heart thumping in a steady rhythm, and make my way to my room. It’s time to pack, again since I arrived at Crestmont. Second time’s the charm. Or third if you count the move from Westfield. As I fold my clothes and stash my books, I let myself feel it—the buzz of anticipation, the ache of leaving, the excitement I know even a second with my dad will give me.
But a single tear escapes anyway, sliding down my cheek, and I swipe it away with the back of my hand. No time for crying. There’s work to do, a future to build, and I won’t let anything stand in my way. Not even my own fear. The guys will still be here. I’m not even that far away. Dad lives closer than I imaginedhe would. Not that I even really thought about his home. I didn’t exactly have time.
I zip the last compartment and heave my bag onto the bed, muscles straining under the weight. I’m not just packing clothes; I’m stowing away pieces of a life that’s threatening to unravel at the seams.
“Vogue.” Thayer’s voice breaks through the silence of the room. I turn and all four of them are crowding in the doorway like a human barricade. Their faces are serious, but their eyes are doing all the talking.
“Guys? Everything okay?” I ask, the word hovering between question and accusation.
“Listen,” Thayer starts, and the others nod, stepping closer into the room, “we’ve been talking.”
“Yeah?” My heart starts doing this weird skippy thing because it’s not every day that your guys line up like they’re about to drop some kind of bomb.
“And we decided we’re coming with you. Aaron can go fuck himself if he wants to try to stop us.” Quen takes over, his voice steady as ever.
For a second, everything stops. The air in my lungs, the thoughts in my head, the thud of my pulse—it all goes quiet.
“You can’t,” I say instantly. “You haven’t graduated yet. It’s different for me. This is post-grad.”
“Oh, yeah, keep forgetting you’re an older woman, baby girl,” Thayer muses with a smirk.
Callum chuckles and comes closer. “There is not a chance in hell we are leaving you in that viper pit alone. Besides. Who will wet our dicks when we get horny?”
“Ah!” I gasp in mock horror. “That’s fucking nice.”
Harry snickers and joins Cal and me, taking my other hand. “You can’t get rid of us. We’ll figure something out with graduating. Fuck knows none of us want to be here if you’re not.”
“Really?” My voice is a whisper, barely squeezing past the lump forming in my throat.
“Really,” Quentin confirms.
“Shit,” I breathe out. This is support without strings, love without limits. I turn into him, letting his mouth devour mine as I tug at his clothes. I need his cock inside me, I need all of their cocks inside me, as many as will fit at one time. We’re a tangled mess of urgency and need, each touch lighting something primal in us. There’s no room for doubt or fear as hands roam and mouths claim; every kiss is a pledge, every caress a vow. The air is charged with our collective lust, thick enough to taste.
I pull back from Quen just enough to see Harry unbuttoning his shirt with that predatory grace he carries so effortlessly. My eyes flick to Thayer, who’s kicking off his shoes while giving me that look that says I’m about to be worshipped in every dirty way possible. Callum is already naked, watching us with hooded eyes that promise sin.
Their want for me is all-consuming and powerful. A living thing in the room with us. We feed it and stoke it until it’s an inferno none of us can escape from, even if we wanted to.
My clothes are discarded hastily until we’re skin on skin on skin. I’m at the centre of this storm of passion, each of them touching and kissing me like I’m their lifeline.
Thayer’s mouth claims mine, biting and suckling my lower lip as Callum’s hands run down my sides to grab my hips and pull my ass against his already hard cock. Quen is on his knees before me, lips trailing a scorching path from my navel downwards, while Harry takes control of my breasts, sucking and biting my nipples until I am weak with craving. Callum slowly guides me backwards before he climbs on the bed and drags me with him, Quen still on his knees a few feet away,
