Dom’s large hands whisper over my cheekbones, and he watches me with such focus, moves with such studious care as he tucks my glasses gently behind my ears, that my heart takes a hard, aching hit.
When his hands fall away, I remember to breathe, and I let my head rest back in the nook of his neck. My legs are still twined with Beau’s. The three of us are pressed as close as we can be without them being inside me. A drowsy calm falls over me, and I snuggle against them, deciding not to question the sweetness.
But Dom doesn’t seem inclined to let me sleep. In a serious voice, he asks, “Are you okay, Eden? That was a lot.”
Beau’s hand trails idly over my thigh as I frown. I don’t know if he’s referring to the fight, or the man I killed, or all the scarily intense sort-of sex, but whatever he means, I don’t really care—I’m stuck on one word.
He’s calling me Eden again, and I don’t think I like it.
I think I want him to go back to calling me “good girl” . . . or even “pet.” It doesn’t sound like such a loaded word while we’re all naked like this.
Stretching like a cat between them, I rub the back of my head into his neck. “Mm-hmm, I’m good, sir. Perfect. I’m perfectly perfect.”
“Perfectly perfect, huh?” he asks, sounding wry.
“Mm-hmm.”
His fingers track down my side, almost hesitantly. “Well, okay, then.”
I sink into the touch. I could probably slip under this feeling and drown here, and I wouldn’t even struggle.
Beau kisses my shoulder lazily. “Our pet looks good on you,” he says to Dom.
At the endearment, I melt, but a small amount of tension steals into Dom’s embrace.
“Hmm,” is all he says.
I nestle in closer, sleepy and dazed. I don’t want him tense. I want him limp and sated and thrilled with me. I try not to read into his lack of reaction. It is Dom, after all.
“You should see what the three of us can manage in a bed, darlin’。 We’ll have to find one next time.”
Dom’s hand falters from its stroking motion on my back. Then it drops, and he squeezes my hip.
I sigh into the touch, my brain puddled between my ears. I don’t want to—can’t—overthink this. Dom and Beau have me wrapped up like their favorite present. It is perfect. The three of us like this, clean of secrets, is one of the most perfect things there is.
I want it to stay like this.
And there it is. In this moment, it all feels so clear. Almost easy. It’s like they washed away the last of my doubts with river water and liquid orgasms.
“I want to break the deal,” I say, calm and sure. “I don’t want any more conditions attached to me staying at Bristlebrook.
I’ll stay because I deserve to be there. Because I contribute as much as anyone, and it has nothing to do with sex.” I don’t even stumble over that word anymore. What a wonder two weeks can work. “No more lies. No more hiding things. Not ‘going forward.’ From now on, I’m there because I want to be, and because you want me to be, and for no other reason.”
For a long, long moment there is only the sound of their breathing and the babble of the water along the stones. Beau and Dom are both tense and still beside me.
Then Beau eases up on his elbow, turning so he looks down at me. “You . . . want to end this?” he asks. “End . . . us?”
They really are terrible listeners.
I reach up and run my finger along his jaw, enjoying the scrape of his stubble. “Not even a little bit.”
He relaxes, his breath rushing out. “Thank God, darlin’。 I was really worried I was going to have to arrange a kidnapping for a second there.”
I smile, but Dom sits up behind me, pulling me up with him. There’s a knot between his dark brows.
“What about the others? What does this mean for them?” There’s a hint of steel in his voice. “You’re choosing Beau?”
“Us,” Beau clarifies, and Dom glares at him.
“No!” I push down a flair of panic, shaking my head. “No, I’m not choosing anyone. I care about all of you. I’m attracted . . . I mean, Lucky is so beautiful, and free, and I just laugh, you know? Every time I’m with him. And he really listens to me, for hours and hours he listens.” I smile, warmed through just thinking about him. “And Jayk, well, he pretends to be so brash. He even believes it, I think. But he’s patient—we took apart the washing machine together, even though I’m sure it took twice as long to have me there. He’s so smart, and he doesn’t give himself half as much credit as he deserves. And Jasper—”
Well. I don’t need to talk about Jasper.
Feeling their eyes on me, I shake my head. “And then there’s you . . . ” Shyness slips over me like a shadow, and I look up at Beau from under my lashes, then dart a glance at Dom.
The green and brown in Beau’s eyes dance together. “What, no compliments for us?”
I lift a hand to hide my smile, feeling my cheeks color like a sunrise. “I—I like you too.”
“You like me?” Beau teases. “Like, like like me, or?”
Huffing a laugh, I meet his eyes. I take a fortifying breath. “You make me feel safe, and I’ve not felt that often. A few weeks ago, I didn’t think anyone could ever make me feel that way. I’ve been fighting my fear my whole life. Since coming to Bristlebrook, I’ve felt safe, and it’s given me the chance to think, really think, about what I want for myself for the first time ever. And I’m trusting you to listen to that.”
Beau’s teasing smile fades, and he’s staring at me now with the same intensity he had when we were in the river, while they dragged my pain and confusion out of me. Slowly, not breaking eye contact, he nods.
I nod back, relieved. Resolved. “Jasper told me that some people, some . . . submissives . . . like to be dominated all the time, others not, that everyone negotiates their own boundaries.”
When I glance at Dom, he finally looks at me, serious and introspective. “He’s right. You want to renegotiate?”
“I do, yes.”
“Good.”
I blink. “Good?”
Dom sighs. “Eden, there’s a reason I don’t take on soft spoken submissives. There’s just too much risk of getting it wrong.
I’m not always great at picking up on signals. I need to trust that they’ll speak up if anything isn’t working for them. If they’re uncomfortable or unhappy.” He meets my eyes. “Renegotiation is always on the table.”
My mouth drops open as I think that through. “Just like that?” I ask in a soft voice.
At the reference to yesterday’s conversation, Dom’s lips quirk. “Just like that.” He directs a tense-jawed look at Beau.
“Your dominants should have explained this all to you.”
“We,” Beau replies, his tone dripping with poisoned honey, “haven’t had a chance to sit down and have a proper conversation about all this. Keep gettin’ dragged away.”
Dom rolls his eyes.
Before they can keep bickering, I lift a hand to get their attention. “I don’t want to be a full-time submissive,” I say firmly.