He pushes me away from him, catching my hand. He pulls me behind him. The further we walk away from the bedroom, the louder things get. He stops, then pushes me into the room after her. I stumble a few steps, looking up to see if anyone is laughing at me.
I stop dead in the middle of the doorway as my heart drops to my feet. The scene in front of me is my worst fears come to life.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
DRAVEN
I walk into the bedroom,tossing the shirt I pulled off on the way up the stairs toward the closet. Unbuttoning my pants and letting them fall to the floor, I step out o' them, and my gaze lands on the bed.
I’m riveted. It beckons me. The sheets will still smell like the two o’ us. I want to wallow in the stench o’ our sex. I want to bathe in it until my skin absorbs it, and the smell never leaves me.
My head drops back on my shoulders, and tears flow like rivers down the sides o' my face, dripping into my ears and pooling there. I take a tentative step forward, followed by another. Then another until I’m crawling into the bed. I burrow under the blankets, burying my face into Tavish’s pillow.
His scent floods my senses. It’s soothing yet gut wrenching all at once, and I dinnae ken what I’m going to do without my boy. I kenned the first day I glimpsed him in that warehouse all those years ago, when he stood there so quietly and meekly with Samuel that Tavish would be a force to be reckoned with. He’d awakened the beast within me that had laid dormant since Simon died.
I was right.
When I touched him for the first time, a jolt o’ electricity surged through me, lighting every nerve ending on fire. I tried to deny him and what he made me feel. Nae, for any reason other than I kenned from that first touch that he could break me.
I’m well and truly broken.
Again.
I tried so hard to keep us at a distance. I should’ve kenned I’d never be able to resist the boy. He is unstoppable and irresistible and falling for him was inevitable before you even consider how he treated Simon and his memory.
Lying here in the bed where I loved them both, and they loved me, my eyes fall closed and I let the memories I’ve been holding at bay wash over me, drowning myself in them and the what ifs and shoulda couldas. I blink, trying to stay awake, but the last half a day has been a fucking cluster fuck. I finally succumb to the pull o' the dreams swirling through my mind.
I dinnae ken how long I laid there, but I must have drifted off. The next thing I ken is being awakened by my throbbing cock as I flood the sheets with my release. Gasping through the tears, I sob into the pillow I’ve shoved under my face.
The dream was perfection. It was everything I’ve ever wanted. Everything Simon ever wanted. It was what we searched for. I’ve thought about it so many times since meeting Tavish, but that dream, nae not a dream—an alternate reality—because it was too real to be just a dream.
After experiencing that, even iffn it was only in my sleep, the loss o' that relationship and those connections is overwhelming. The what could’ve beens that I conjured up while awake were bad enough. Now, I’m having wet dreams o' the three o' us together without the threat o' the Order or the Society.
Talk about a life I’ll never live.
There's a knock, then the hinges squeak, and someone clears their throat before calling out to me.
“Laird?”
I look up, and Mack has the door open but his back and head turned to give me privacy. “Yes,” I reply, rolling onto my back out o' the mess I’d made o' the bed.
“Our internet friend is here.”
What the fuck is he doing here?
I rush through a shower, dressing quickly, and hurry down the stairs. I walk into the room, where Mack is standing at the door to the hallway, his arms crossed over his chest. The man’s big, nae as big as me, still intimidating, but it disnae appear to affect the kid in the room at all.
My gaze trails over him. He looks to be just a few years older than Tavish. His hair is an inky black with black liner outlining his eyes, making the deep set sapphire orbs glow. They gave him an ethereal look. Add in the arrogant confidence oozing from him that rolled through the room, and what ye got was someone not easily intimidated, especially with the cocky Dom vibe that came along with it.
He’s slouched in an antique chair, his legs thrown over one o' the arms. He wasnae as tiny as Tavish. Nae one is, but he’s nae much bigger.
I walk toward him, expecting him to slide into a much more respectful position, but I am mistaken. He disnae act as if I am even in the room. The phone in his hand has his full attention as his thumbs flew across the screen.
Waiting to be acknowledged in my own home rankled. When he hadnae even glanced in my direction, I stalked toward him, knocking his legs off the arms o' the chair that was three times older than all three o' us combined.
“Ye’re supposed to be looking for my boy.”
Still not even a glance.
