The ride sobers me up fast. Wind whips through my hair, cold enough to make my eyes water, and every turn forces me to grip tighter.
Twenty minutes pass in a blur of asphalt and engine roar before we turn onto a dirt road that cuts through thick forest. Branches reach overhead, blocking out the stars. The bikes slow as the road narrows, gravel crunching under tires. Then the trees open up, and there it is.
The cabin sits in a clearing that’s bigger than I expected. Two stories, wraparound porch, windows that probably look out on the forest in every direction.
We kill our engines, and silence rushes in. Just wind through trees and night sounds, crickets, and distant owl calls.
“We built it five years ago,” Titan says, dismounting. “When we needed somewhere off the grid.”
Ghost heads for the door, pulling keys from his pocket. “Reinforced walls. Soundproofing. Solar panels on the roof with battery backup.”
I follow them up the porch steps, boots loud on wood. Ghost unlocks the door and flips a switch inside. Lights flood the interior, and I stop in the doorway.
It’s not what I expected. Not some bare-bones hideout, but an actual home. Open floor plan with a kitchen to the left, a living area straight ahead with a massive stone fireplace, and a hallway to the right that probably leads to bedrooms.
“How often do you come here?” I step inside, and the door closes behind me with a solid thunk.
“Often enough.” Ash moves past me toward the kitchen. “Beer’s in the fridge if anyone wants one.”
“I’ll take water.” My mouth is dry from the ride, and the whiskey is sitting uneasily in my stomach.
Titan heads down the hallway. I hear a door open, light spilling out. “Bedroom’s back here.”
My heart kicks into a higher gear. This is happening. This is really happening.
Ghost leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle. “You can still change your mind.”
“I won’t.”
“You should know what you’re getting into.” His voice is quiet. “We’re not going to treat you like you’re breakable.”
“Good.” I meet his eyes. “I don’t want to be treated like I’m breakable.”
Ash returns with a glass of water and hands it to me. Our fingers brush, and electricity shoots up my arm. I drink half the glass, needing something to do with my hands. The water helps clear my head, but does nothing for the nerves jumping under my skin.
This afternoon, I was given up to a man I didn’t want. Tonight I’m standing in a cabin with three men I’ve wanted for years, about to cross a line there’s no coming back from.
Titan reappears in the doorway to the hallway. The look on his face makes my stomach flip. “You coming, princess?” His voice has dropped an octave. “Or are you gonna make us wait all night?”
I set down the water glass. My hands are shaking slightly.
I walk toward the hallway, and Titan steps aside to let me pass. The bedroom is at the end of the hall, the door open and warm light spilling out. The king-size bed dominates the space, covered in dark sheets that look soft. Windows on two walls, curtains drawn. A dresser, a chair in the corner, nothing fancy but clean and comfortable.
I turn to find all three of them in the doorway, filling it with their presence.
Ash speaks first. “Last chance to back out.”
I reach for the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head in one smooth motion. Let it drop to the floor. “I’m not backing out.”
My bra, the one I threw on without thinking this morning, hugs my chest. My pulse is a drumbeat in my throat, and I’m not sure if it’s the whiskey or the way they’re looking at me. They tower over me, three mountains of want, and my five-foot-four frame feels tiny.
Ash steps closer, his boots heavy on the floor, and those dark eyes pin me in place. The green in them is gone, eaten up by black, hungry pupils.
I move, rising onto my tiptoes, my hands reaching for Ash first. My fingers curl into his cut, pulling him down, and his lips crash into mine. His mouth is hot, tasting of whiskey and sin, his tongue sweeping against mine like he’s been starving for this.
I’m stretched up, calves straining, and he bends lower, one hand cupping my jaw, the other gripping my hip, anchoring me to him. My head spins, but I break away, breathless, turning to Ghost.
He’s already leaning down, meeting me halfway, his lips softer but no less brutal. I’m up on my toes again, my hands fisting his shirt, and he kisses me like he’s memorizing every inch of my mouth, his breath hitching when I bite his lower lip.
