I leaned down and kissed Fallon again, tasting the remnants of myself on them. This time, I knew there would be no holding back. The night was still young. The hunt was over, the prize was claimed, and we were lost in the intoxicating haze of her. It was a beautiful, chaotic disaster, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. We were a trio, entangled in a web of lust and secrets, and tonight, we would unravel it together, strand by strand.
eleven
a killer snowman
Fallon
Iwoke up to the feeling of being watched. Blinking away the sleep and wiping the drool from my mouth, I saw Julian gazing at me with those wide, curious green eyes. He was wearing the Christmas outfit I'd gotten him: a red and black button-up flannel with black jeans and checkered Vans—he looked absolutely adorable. His blonde curls tumbled over his forehead, partially obscuring his view. He was just so innocent, so perfect.
"Fallon, are you awake?" he asked, holding out a steaming Santa mug.
I sat up, a headache thrumming behind my eyes, every muscle in my body aching. Fragments of last night flooded back, a wave of unease washing over me as moments with both War and Hitch came back to me. I forced a smile, trying to dislodge theknot in my throat, and gratefully took the cup from his small hands.
"I am now, buddy. What's up?" I took a sip of the coffee, perfectly brewed and flavored to my taste—Brady must've made it—and smiled at Julian over the rim, knowing he already had a scheme in mind.
"Daddy's taking me to see Christmas lights. I wanted you and Hitch to come," he announced in the sweetest voice, one I could never resist.
I stared at him, my mind reeling with all the things he didn't know. He was unaware of Foley, of Nina, of the events that had transpired—the truth. We were fiercely protective of him, and until now, had managed to stay hidden from danger. The thought of War, and the likelihood of his working for Foley, sent a shiver down my spine.
I took another sip, my thoughts drifting back to what happened last night, at a party we'd had to attend. Knowing Hitch was involved with Foley only fueled my fear. Both men who held my interest were entangled with him in some way, and I knew it was only a matter of time before I faced Foley again. The prospect fucking terrified me.
"Of course we'll come," I finally managed, the words catching in my throat before I could swallow them.
Julian practically bounced with joy, leaping onto the bed and wrapping his little arms around me, his head of blonde curls resting on my shoulder. I hugged him back tightly, my anxiety kicking in, forcing me to count the wallpaper dots in sets of seven as my OCD spiraled. I was a wreck. Foley had done this to me. And regardless of anything else, I would make him pay for what he'd done.
Once Julian left, I sank back into the pillows, only then realizing Hitch was still beside me, shirtless. A single white rose lay on my windowsill, a 'W' scrawled on it in my lipstick.Knowing it was from War sent a chill through me, but also a flush to my cheeks. I didn't understand it, but I was utterly intrigued. Already addicted.
He was stalking me, and yet I was the one who couldn't pull myself away. It was fucking embarrassing to admit, so I hoped to keep him a secret for as long as possible, especially from Brady. My brother had good intentions, but since everything with Foley, he'd become overly protective, almost smothering. I didn't fight him on it as much as I should've, and it had just become too much.
I closed my eyes, but was suddenly pulled against Hitch's chest with a soft thud, his skin warming mine. He passionately kissed my forehead, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face, and it took everything I had not to melt into him. I had to maintain boundaries with Hitch, because of the pain he'd caused me before. I still wasn't ready to forgive him for what he did, and I didn't know if I'd ever be able to forgive him.
How do you forgive someone who took advantage of you while you were under the influence? Especially when that someone is your stepbrother...
I opened my eyes and smiled as he kissed my nose. Then, his lips met mine, and a soft, deep moan escaped him. I shivered against him, my underwear becoming soaked. My hands were already tracing the lines of his back, and his body writhed against mine as if he couldn't get enough.
"It's just you and me, crazy girl. I fucking need you," he growled, nipping at my swollen bottom lip. "Please."
He rolled over me and lifted my legs to his shoulders, leaving a trail of kisses that set fire to my skin, and he slipped between them until our hips aligned like puzzle pieces. I dragged my nails down his back, feeling his body shudder against mine as he ghosted kisses along my collarbone, teasing me even more.
He was an inferno, a storm, and I, a mere moth, was hopelessly drawn to his flame. I couldn't deny the hunger, the frantic need that had seized me. All the walls I'd built to protect myself, the carefully constructed barricades of logic and caution, crumbled into dust. This wasn't just physical; this was a desperate, primal thing that echoed through my very core. My breath hitched in my throat as his hand found its way between my legs. The world narrowed to the sensation, the feel of him, the intoxicating scent of his skin.
“Hitch…” I gasped, the name a plea, a surrender that dripped off the tip of my tongue..
He didn't answer, his focus singular, unwavering. His movements were deliberate, each touch a promise, a claim. He whispered against my neck, words I couldn't quite decipher, a low rumble of passion and possessiveness that sent shivers of anticipation and fear dancing up my spine. The intensity of his gaze met mine, his eyes were dazed, as if he was searching deep in my soul. I didn't want him to stop. I needed this.
The pressure built, a sweet agony that threatened to consume me. My nails dug into his back, and the sounds of both of us filled the room, echoing the rhythm of our bodies. I was lost, drowning in a sea of sensation, every nerve ending on fire. Then, with a groan that tore from his chest, he plunged deep inside me...
And I fucking shattered.
The world exploded into a rainbow of colors, a supernova of feeling that eclipsed everything else. Time fractured, dissolving into a tapestry of raw emotions. I clawed at his back, desperate, my muscles clenching around him, the exquisite pain from his piercings a welcome. Waves crashed over me, each one more intense than the last, until I was left gasping, clinging to the remnants of sanity, and the sensation of his piercings rubbing against the inside of my pussy almost sent me over the edge.
Slowly, the chaos subsided, leaving a trembling silence in its wake. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat in the stillness. I could feel his weight on me, his breath warm against my neck. His hair was tickling my face. He buried his face in my hair, muttering something incoherent, a mix of satisfaction and something else. I reached up, my fingers tracing the sharp angles of his jaw, the stubble rough against my skin.
“Hitch,” I whispered, the name of a fragile prayer in the aftermath.
He shifted, lifting his head, his eyes heavy-lidded, glazed with lingering passion. A ghost of a smile played on his lips.
“You are fuckingincredible, Fallon,” he murmured, his voice hoarse.
