The bath didn't help.
I’d made sure the water was cool enough to take the edge off the fever burning through my skin. I'd sunk into it gratefully, letting the cold seep into my bones, hoping it would quiet the need clawing at my insides.
It didn't.
If anything, every sensation was amplified. The water sliding across my skin. The porcelain smooth against my back. The faint scent of cedar that clung to everything in Cole's cabin—his soap, his towels, the very walls.
Him.
I wanted him. Wanted all of them. The need was a living thing now, coiling tighter with every breath, demanding satisfaction I couldn't provide alone.
By the time I heard the door open, I was shaking.
"Lumi?"
Cole's voice. I heard others behind him—footsteps, murmured conversation, the rustle of bags being set down.
"In here," I managed.
He appeared in the bathroom doorway. His eyes swept over me—naked in the tub, skin flushed, trembling—and something in his expression cracked.
"The water's not helping," I said. It came out like a plea.
"I know." He crossed to me, knelt beside the tub. His hand found my forehead, then my cheek. "Your temperature's still climbing."
"I need—" I couldn't finish. Couldn't put words to the ache consuming me.
"I know what you need." His voice was rough. Strained. "Can you stand?"
I tried. My legs buckled. Cole caught me before I hit the porcelain, lifting me from the water like I weighed nothing. Water streamed off my body as he carried me into the bedroom.
James was there. Neal. Cal.
They turned when Cole emerged with me in his arms. I saw their faces change—concern shifting to something darker, something hungry, as my scent hit them.
"Jesus," James breathed. "She smells like—"
"I know." Cole set me on the bed. The sheets were cool against my fevered skin, but it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough. "The heat's accelerating. Faster than I expected."
"What do we do?" Neal moved closer, his hand finding my ankle, thumb stroking across the bone. Even that small touch sent sparks racing up my leg.
"We take care of her." Cole's voice dropped. "Whatever she needs. For as long as she needs it."
James was already pulling his shirt over his head. "Then let's stop talking."
He climbed onto the bed beside me, and his mouth found mine. The kiss was deep, claiming, his tongue sweeping inside like he owned me. I moaned against his lips and felt his smile.
"There she is," he murmured. "Our girl."
Cole appeared on my other side. His hand traced down my body—throat, collarbone, the curve of my breast. Reverent. Worshipful. Like I was something precious.
"So beautiful," he whispered. "Do you know how long I've wanted to touch you like this?"
"Show me."
He lowered his mouth to my breast.
I arched off the bed. His tongue circled my nipple, teasing it to a peak before sucking gently. James's hand slid between my thighs and found me dripping.
