“Is there any other kind of dark romance?”
“You guys are weird,” Wyatt huffs, but when I look over, he’s trying to hide a small twitch of his lips. It’s becoming much easier to read him these days, and I know now that, weird or not, Wyatt wouldn’t want any of us to be any other way.
Chapter Twenty Five
As Friday creeps closer, we do whatever we can to distract ourselves, to find small moments to disappear between the walls and pretend nothing else exists. My only reprieve from the guilt of hiding away is the thought that the auction could bring us closer to finding Meg. Currently, it’s the only way to get some sort of answers, some sort of leverage. Axel has given us a way forward. Now we just need to swallow our pride and take it.
I believe that’s why the next time Axel asks for help to bathe, we all appear in the bathroom. It’s a huge space designed for indulgence, with dark marble floors, soft golden lighting, and a tub large enough to fit a small army. Or potentially, me and five Souls. The air is thick with steam, curling along the mirrors and clinging to our skin. Axel leans back against the edge of the tub, his broad chest rising and falling slowly, ribs wrapped in waterproof bandages. His head tips back, exposing the thick column of his throat.
I share a look with Garrett, giving him a small nod. There’s no pretense as to why we all ended up here. We need a distraction as much as Axel does. I can only listen to Dax read sex scenes in his deep, sultry voice for so long. I’m desperately trying to remain focused on what’s important, to put all other selfish desires aside, but when I’m stuck sitting around with nothing to do, the men around me are too enticing. And from the hunger in their eyes, they clearly feel the same.
Garrett moves, dropping to his knees beside the tub. Dipping a hand into the water, he teases his fingers through the bubbles, watching Axel stare at the ceiling. As with his baths before, Hux helped to ease him into the tub, letting the warmth lull him into a rare state of relaxation. But the longer Axel sits there, the more aware he becomes of the silence. Of the eyes on him. Slowly, he lifts his head.
We’re all watching him. Me, perched on the edge of the tub. Huxley is leaning against the counter, his arms crossed. Dax is sitting on a stool nearby, his injured hand propped up, and a lazy, knowing smirk curling his lips. Wyatt stands off to the side, his hands loose at his sides, and his stance is wide. He’s here for one simple reason. I asked him to be.
Axel stiffens, his brows knitting together. He knows this group too well. He knows we’re up to something. “What? Why are you all looking at me like that?” Garrett’s lips twitch, and he shrugs one shoulder.
“You just look so…” he tilts his head, his dark eyes sweeping over Axel’s naked form. “Innocent.” Axel scoffs, his cheeks flushing.
“I’m in a bath.”
Garrett’s fingers trail through the water to brush Axel’s chest as he hums. “Exactly.”
No one wants to act first, so I do. Standing, I move into the center of the room. Wyatt meets me halfway, his hands coming up to brush my waist. His thumbs skim along the hem of my sweater, lifting it inch by inch, the soft material gliding over my skin. A shiver follows, not from cold but from the way Axel’s stare grows heavier, how his knuckles flex against the rim of the bathtub. Aside from a lace thong, I’m bare underneath.
“What is happening right now?” Axel’s breath saws out of him, his hazel gaze flicking between us with uncertainty.
“We thought you might need a distraction.” I tilt my head, watching him, watching the way his throat bobs. Axel exhales sharply, his muscles tensing beneath Garrett’s taunting touch.
“I don’t think?—”
Garrett presses his wet fingers against Axel’s mouth and smirks. “Shhh. Just sit back and enjoy.” Axel barely processes the words before Wyatt’s hands start to move on me again, raising to my breasts. He cups them together, presenting me to Axel before brushing his thumbs over my nipples. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip.
Dax makes a low, amused sound. “You guys are messing with him.” But from the raspy urge to his voice, it sounds like we’re messing with Dax too. I lean into Wyatt’s chest, pushing my chest further into his pliant hands.
“Are we?” I murmur, eyes locked on Axel. It’s so strange, like a dream in which Wyatt lets go of all of his reservations and publicly claims me. No more hiding behind closed doors or pretending the spark between us isn’t real. It’s out there now, in the open and laid bare for the rest of my men to see
Wyatt chuckles behind me, the heat of his breath teasing my neck. My skin prickles under the weight of the attention, under the way Axel stiffens, the way his gaze flickers from my collarbone to my ribs, to the teasing lace hugging my hips. Wyatt pinches my nipples hard, causing me to gasp, and a moment later, his mouth is on my neck.
Huxley, still leaning against the counter, remains silent. But his eyes are darker now, his fingers tapping idly against his bicep. His stare lingers on the way my body responds to Wyatt’s touch, and I hold out my hand for him.
“No point just watching, Hux. My thong isn’t going to fall off by itself.” In two steps, Huxley has dropped his arms and dropped to his knees, stroking my legs and upper thigh. Everywhere his fingers touch, his lips follow—brushing over my clit through the lace before he leans forward and sucks the material into his mouth. His tongue is hot, sending a bolt of pleasure straight through me. Ever so slowly, he peels the thong to the ground and tosses it into the bathtub. I watch the black lace float amongst the bubbles, although as Hux pushes his face into my center and inhales deeply, I’m a goner.
Axel’s mouth parts, but no words come out. He shifts again, the water sloshing slightly. Garrett moves to the back of the tub, his hands roaming over Axel’s shoulders and neck, kissing his skin but not going any further. I watch through a haze of pleasure, my head dropping back against Wyatt’s shoulder.
“Keep watching, Axe,” Wyatt murmurs against my ear, his lips brushing that sensitive spot beneath it. His hands smooth over my hips, widening my stance for Huxley to slide his tongue over me. There’s a contrast between his unhurried, almost lazy movements, and the way hesets my pulse racing. My nipples are pulled tight, aching for attention and Dax seems to know that instinctively.
Lips wrap around my nipple, and this time I release the groan that’s been building within me. Wyatt’s hands tighten on my hips, keeping me steady, while Huxley remains on his knees, his tongue dragging slow, deliberate strokes that make my legs tremble.
A deep exhale rakes from Axel’s chest, and I force my heavy-lidded gaze to focus on him. He hasn’t moved, his knuckles still flexed against the edge of the tub, gripping it as if it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. Garrett’s fingers idly trace along his shoulders, occasionally dipping into the water. Axel’s chest rises and falls with uneven breaths, his eyes locked onto me, dark and filled with lust.
“Still with us, Axe?” Wyatt teases, his voice a rich hum of amusement and something darker. He’s loving this too. The release of being open with his gang, of being honest about his intentions. Axel swallows hard, but he doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to. The tension radiating from his body, the way his throat bobs, the way his jaw tics. He’s fighting his desire, unsure of how to react, but still completely unable to look away.
A shiver rolls through me as Dax’s teeth graze my nipple, the sensation sparking a fresh wave of heat in my stomach. His injured hand remains cradled to his chest, but his good one traces a slow path over the scars on my ribs. Huxley drags his mouth from my core to the inside of my thigh, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses to the heated skin, each one deliberate, each one meant to make Axel squirm just a little more, before returning to my pussy. I can’t take his slow torment anymore.
I brace a hand on Dax’s shoulder, the other reaching back to tangle in Wyatt’s hair. “I feel like Axel is getting bored,” I joke, despite the heat bursting from his hazel eyes. Huxley’s chuckle ripples through my core, mimicking the deep sound that rumbles from Wyatt’s chest. He shifts behind me, his hand slipping up my stomach, fingers teasing just beneath my ribs.
"Then we must not be doing a good enough job."
