Grant’s eyes flick toward the door, and I freeze, heart in my throat, sure I’m caught. But his gaze slides back to her, his movements hidden now. He didn’t see me. Thank God. I stumble back, legs unsteady, forcing myself to turn away before I’m spotted.
The images burn in my mind—Kai’s tongue on her pussy, Donovan’s cock in her mouth, Grant’s hands spreading her for more.
My hands shake as I navigate back through the hallways. I take two wrong turns before I finally recognize the corridor that leads to my wing. By the time I slip back into my room, my heart is racing and my skin feels like it’s on fire.
I couldn’t even get the water. Dammit.
Logan hasn’t moved. He’s still snoring and oblivious. Wait, does he know? Does he know his father and brothers do this? Is he a part of this?
Oh, no, my God. Maybe he brought me here so they can share me too?
Seriously, Sam? That’s silly.
I climb back into bed and stare at the ceiling. Sleep is impossible now. Every nerve ending in my body is awake and screaming for attention. The image is burned into my brain.
I want to touch myself. I know I’m wet down there. I can feel it.
The ache between my legs is getting worse, not better. But Logan is right there, three feet away, snoring loud enough to wake the dead.
Though, he wouldn’t notice if I did. And he probably wouldn’t care. But the idea of getting myself off to the thought of what I’ve just seen, while my boyfriend sleeps beside me, completely checked out, feels pathetic in ways I can’t quite name.
I roll onto my side and try to think about something else. Anything else. Work emails I should answer. The grocery list I left on my kitchen counter back in Chicago.
Nothing works. My body won’t cooperate. The ache just intensifies.
After thirty minutes of torture, I give in to sleep.
4
KAI
Veronica’sdark hair is spread across my chest when I wake up.
The room is quiet. I glance at the clock on the nightstand. Ten thirty.
Dad and Donovan are probably three hours into their day already. They’ve always been morning people. I’ve always been the opposite.
Veronica stirs, her hand sliding across my stomach. “What time is it?”
“Late.” I brush her hair back from her face. “You should probably head out before the staff starts their rounds.”
She sits up, stretching like a cat. There’s no awkwardness or expectations. That’s what I like about her. She knows what this is and what it isn’t. “Last night was fun.”
“It usually is.” I grin at her. “Same time next week?”
“If you’re lucky.” She slips out of bed and starts gathering her clothes from where they got scattered across the floor. She’s done this enough times to know the routine. Quick kiss goodbye,then she’s gone, slipping out through the private hallway that connects my room to the staff wing.
The door clicks shut behind her, and I’m alone.
My chest feels tight. Not unusual lately, but annoying. I sit up slowly, waiting to see if it passes. It doesn’t.
I head to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. The mirror shows my hair sticking up in every direction and shadows under my eyes that weren’t there a month ago. I look like I partied too hard. Which is true, but not in the way people think.
Back in my bedroom, I walk to the antique cabinet with dark wood and ornate carvings against the far wall. It’s been in the family for generations.
I press the hidden latch on the left side, and the false back panel pops open. Inside is a small space I’ve been using for years. Usually, for things I don’t want Dad or my brothers finding. Cash. Fake IDs from my wilder days. A burner phone.
And now, a prescription bottle I’ve been refilling under a fake name for the past six months.
