Possession (The Mate Games 3)

“Can I be the fork?” Noah asked.

“Fork?” I asked with a snort.

“Yeah, so I can see your face and tangle my legs with yours. You know, like two forks facing each other?”

“Real romantic, man. You’re a regular Shakespeare,” Kingston said.

“I love it. Yes, Noah, you can fork me whenever you want to.”

Kingston rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. That was so fucking lame, Sunshine. Besides, where am I supposed to sleep?”

“At the foot of the bed like every good dog?” Alek offered.

“Nope.” Kingston jumped onto the bed, positioning himself right in the center. “I’m the motherfucking silverware organizer. Come on, baby, settle yourself on top of me, and they can fork and spoon us to their heart’s content.”

“I didn’t sign up for your arse nestled in my crotch,” Alek grumbled, climbing onto the bed.

Kingston glared at him. “My ass is planted on the mattress, so don’t go and get handsy, berserker. And by the way, if I wake up getting stabbed by your boner, I’m shoving you off the bed. That goes for both of you,” he said, pointing his finger at both Noah and Alek. “No swordplay.”

Noah snickered while I tried to hide my smile behind my hand.

“You, however, can be as handsy as you want,” Kingston said, sitting up to grasp my hips and pull me on top of him. “In fact, I think I’m going to demand it.”

“Do I get to push you off the bed if you stab me with your boner?” I asked as I snuggled into his chest.

“Nope. You get to take care of it.”

“How is that fair? I thought you were the ones who were supposed to take care of me?”

“We’ll always take care of you. Forever.” Kingston’s promise turned my insides to mush.

Noah’s hand slid over my hip, Alek’s on my waist, and Kingston held me against him. My cheek was pressed to Kingston’s chest, right over his heart, the steady pulse soothing.

“When will we be able to feel the baby?” he asked, his words a resonant rumble as he spoke.

“A few more weeks,” Alek said, surprising me.

“How did you know that?”

“You’re not the only one who does research.”

I smiled, already dozing off as Kingston began threading his fingers through my hair, combing from scalp to tip over and over. If I could have purred, I would’ve.

The door flew open, popping the contented little bubble we were floating in. Alek was the first off the bed, Noah right on his heels. Underneath me as he was, Kingston couldn’t do more than tighten his arms around me as he sat us up.

“What the fecking hell are you three gobshites doing? The goddamn house is on fire, and you’re laying up in here in a fucking puppy pile while your mate’s life is in danger?”

I’d never seen Caleb so upset. A vein was pulsing wildly in his forehead, his sapphire eyes nearly black, an angry flush high in his cheeks.

“Fire? What the hell are you talking about?” Kingston snarled, sniffing the air. “I don’t smell any smoke.”

Caleb sent the door crashing into the wall. “What do you call that?” he roared, pointing to the smoke billowing in the hall illuminated by the angry glow of flames.

We were frozen in shock for a single heartbeat before all of us were moving.

“How did this happen?” Alek asked.

“Now’s not the time, Viking.” Caleb lunged toward the bed, pulling me out of Kingston’s arms and holding me tight to him. “Hold on to me,a stor. Close your eyes.” The way his voice caressed my skin had me desperate for us to reconcile.