Noah pulls out gently, hand flying to his cock. “Lila—fuck—open for me.”
I do, tongue out, eyes on his. He comes with a quiet, shuddering groan, hot stripes across my tongue, my lips. I swallow what I can, the rest dripping down my chin.
Evan catches me as my arms give out, easing us all down onto the comforter in a tangle of limbs. Noah grabs a pillow for my head, Evan finds wet wipes in my toiletries, cleaning me with tender strokes between my thighs, along my chin.
“You’re so perfect,” Evan murmurs, kissing my temple.
“You were incredible,” Noah adds, pressing a kiss to my cheek, dimples flashing even now.
I’m floating, boneless, blissed-out, surrounded by warmth and quiet praise.
“Close your eyes,” Evan whispers, pulling me against his chest. Noah spoons me from the other side, hand resting over Evan’s on my stomach.
“Just rest,” Noah says. “We’ll wake you when it’s time.”
I trust them completely. My eyes drift shut, a lazy smile on my lips.
Did that really just happen?
And when can it happen again?
Chapter twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-Five: Lila
Twenty minutes later, with my body still pleasantly heavy and my mind finally clear, I sit up and reach for my notebook. It’s strange how fast life snaps back into focus after moments like that.
“So, here’s the thing,” I begin. “The council thinks it has the power to decide your fates, but the reality is that public opinion is the true wielder of the sword.”
“True,” Noah and Evan reply in unison.
“Banks is heading to that council chamber right now, prepared to drag you all to the chopping block, because he thinks he knows what’s best.”
“And fuck him for that,” Noah grumbles.
“Exactly, because he doesn’t know what’s best. Thepeopleknow what’s best for them, and Station 47 is a public service. You are this city’s heroes, not Banks’s scapegoats.”
Evan nods. “Well said.”
I glance over my notes for a moment.
After a twenty-minute nap, Evan and Noah coaxed me awake. They were fully dressed by then, and Noah had even pillaged the kitchen for some snacks while I was in an orgasm-induced coma.
But I managed to crawl off the floor, get some clothes on, and then dutifully ate the orange slices that Evan peeled for me. Little by little, I returned to a sense of normalcy and focused on the task at hand.
I’m pretty sure at least a few people in the firehouse have an inkling of what went down in this little room, but I also have an inexplicable faith that nobody is about to go tattling on us.
So, now, I’m sitting at my desk, and my loyal soldiers are perched on the bed. Somewhere out there in the city, Hale is donning a tie and heading to the city council chamber, ready to do whatever he can to at least delay Banks’s doom a little bit longer.
But we’re not going to abandon Hale. Station 47 is going to survive this.
It’s truly time to save these heroes.
“We need to rally the troops,” I continue, tapping my pen against the notepad. “And pray that no big calls come in for at least a couple of hours.”
By now, the crews have changed over. The staff who fought the fire last night have finally gone home to their beds, and a fresh cohort have taken their place. Except for Noah and Evan, of course, and a few others who have chosen to sleep through the day here at the station instead of going home.
“I can do the rallying,” Noah confirms. “But what for? What’s going on inside that beautiful brain of yours?”
