Broderick (Sabine Valley 2)
I ease a single finger into her and then two, enjoying the way her breath hisses out and she clamps around me. For the first time since we met, she’s letting me take the lead. It’s not submission, not really; more that she’s letting me set the pace. I appreciate it. It’s been a long time for me, and never like this. Never with all the lights on.
I intend to enjoy every moment of it.
Monroe lets out a breathless laugh. “Gods, you really are a gift, love. You little sadist.”
“Hush, I’m enjoying myself.” I spread her pussy a little and rub her clit with my thumb. “I’m going to taste you now.”
She moans a little. “Do it.”
I’m in the process of leaning down to do just that when the door slams open…and Broderick stalks into the room.
Chapter 11
Broderick
Shock steals my breath. Desire follows on its heels, nearly taking me off my feet. I stagger back against the door I just barged through, completely speechless. I expected to find Monroe here, to have another go-round with her before I inform her about the meeting I agreed to with her family.
I didn’t expect to find Shiloh kneeling on the bed, two fingers in Monroe’s pussy. There’s no way to misinterpret this scene. She’s not holding Shiloh down. She’s bent in fucking half and simply taking what Shiloh gives. “Well, fuck.”
Shiloh narrows her eyes, but she doesn’t do anything I expect. She doesn’t scramble to explain herself or shove away from Monroe. She just pumps slowly into Monroe’s pussy. “You should really learn to knock.”
I’ve fucked this up rather spectacularly. There’s no other conclusion to come to. That I’m standing here, watching the woman I love with the woman I both hate and desire… “What’s going on here?”
Monroe gives a breathless laugh that turns into a little moan when Shiloh does something with her fingers. “I’d think that’s readily apparent.”
“Broderick.” Shiloh’s hazel eyes are merciless. “Turn around. Walk out the door. Come back in the morning.”
“The morning?” Monroe shivers. “Someone’s ambitious.”
“Hush.” Shiloh pins me with a look. “Unless you have something vital to share that needs to be discussed right this moment, it can wait until morning.”
“Okay,” I finally manage. I move slowly, my body obeying even as my mind rebels. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. None of this is how it’s supposed to be. I open the door and step back into the hall. The second it closes behind me, the strength goes out of my body, and I slump back against it.
I can…hear them.
Monroe’s throaty laugh. Shiloh’s low murmur.
And then Monroe starts moaning.
I wish I could say she’s just putting on a show for me, but she made that exact same sound when I was inside her. It’s not fake. It’s not for my benefit. It’s because Shiloh is doing something to her that is driving her out of her mind.
I should walk away and come back in the morning. Standing here and listening to them is an exquisite form of torture. Jealousy sinks its barbs into me and digs deep. That Monroe has caught Shiloh’s interest boggles my mind. That Shiloh seems to soften some of Monroe’s edges… I don’t know what to think about that, either. It’s as if my brain simply cannot compute it. Both women have clear roles in my life, for better or worse, and they’re acting against those expectations.
“Broderick?”
I open my eyes to find my older brother standing there. Being back in Sabine Valley agrees with Abel. He’s lost a little of the tightness in his shoulders that I thought a permanent fixture. Sure enough, I can see Eli over his shoulder. The man is typing away at something on his phone, his handsome face lit with the screen, but his proximity has my brother softening even if his attention is obviously on something else. There’s no other explanation for it.
Abel’s…happy.
I should be happy for him. He deserves happiness after everything he’s sacrificed to keep us alive and together. If it were just Harlow, it wouldn’t be a problem. She’s fierce, and she obviously cares a great deal about this faction and the people in it. I suspect she’s just as ruthless as Abel, but she still provides a bit of a counterweight to some of his ideas and plans.
But it’s not just Harlow.
He’s not part of a contented couple. He’s in a throuple, and the third person is Eli fucking Walsh. Even standing in the same space as Eli right now has me remembering how smoke coated my throat as we ran for our lives. I realize Eli wasn’t directly responsible, but damn if I can let it go. No matter what else is true, it’s been almost too easy to slip right back into our roles in the Raider faction.
As if nothing has changed, when the truth is that everything has changed.