Page 19 of Let The Devil In
I realize the conversation is over when they fall silent. Seconds pass and they remain lost in their own thoughts.
But now I have my own questions. I have an entire maze of confusion winding through my skull. None of what they said makes sense. I want to think they’re talking about me but it could be a million other possibilities. They have an entire life I don’t know about back in Vancouver. They have jobs and other obligations that they could be talking about, but I’m not dumb enough not to rule myself out.
I could ask. I can march in there and demand answers and learn they were talking about a work thing and I come off crazy. That weirdo that eavesdrops on people’s private conversations and makes it about herself.
Or I can wait and play this out. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want, but I can listen and gather more information before making any decisions.
I opt for the latter. It’s the saner voice of reason. The one that won’t make me out to be unhinged.
Mind set, I take a step back and pretend to just be arriving and step into the kitchen.
All three heads jerk up with my arrival. Their focus is absolute. Centered. The feral intensity of guard dogs on alert, except, they’re watching me like I’m the threat they’d like nothing more than to devour. The palpable desire is enough to reignite the heat simmering between my thighs. All my hard work talking myself down amplifies with the weight of testosterone choking the air.
“We were about to come get you,” Roan says in a way that definitely sounds like a threat.
The edge has me wondering what would have happened if they had shown up in my room while I was wet and naked from the shower. Would they have stayed and watched me get dressed? Would they have even let me? I have a feeling that clothes would not have been allowed.
I shake the fantasy of them wrestling me down right there on the bathroom floor from my head. I tell myself the chances of being held down and used is an unlikely scenario, but it still has me shifting to ease the rush of moisture filling my underwear.
At this rate, I might need another shower.
“Was I gone that long?” I tease, moving deeper into the room in the direction of the empty seat next to Kellen.
“Too long,” Lukan states, pushing out of his stool and moving to the steaming kettle resting on the stove.
I move to claim my spot and watch Lukan drop a teabag into a mug. It’s been years and yet, he loads two scoops of sugar in next before filling it with hot water. Just the way I like it.
“You remembered how I like my tea,” I say, touched by the simple gesture.
Lukan chuckles. “We remember everything about you, sweetheart.”
I doubt that, but I let it slide. Instead, I reach for my chair only to have my wrist captured by Kellen and I’m dragged between his knees. The island top digs into my abdomen as I’m held in place by the giant hands he folds across my pelvis.
“Roan, build Rina a fire in the other room. The house is cold,” Kellen tells his brother. “Lukan, get the room ready for her. Take her tea.”
I don’t understand what’s happening, nor do they argue when Roan leaves the room and Lukan takes my mug and follows.
Then it’s just us.
Me with my back resting against this giant’s chest. His arms caging me. His breath warm against the side of my face.
“Kellen?” I tip my face back and I’m immediately captured by those eyes.
“Yes, my love?”
My heart flips at the sweet endearment.
“What are you doing?”
His eyelids slip a notch to half mast. His big hands roam up to pop open the only button holding my cardigan closed.
“I’m going to finger your pussy, little one.”
Casual. Simple like he’s offering to braid my hair. The simple statement sends a punch of desire slamming straight up between my thighs.
And all I can muster is a weak, “Oh.”
Because what am I supposed to say?
