Layne
Iwake up pressed between Matteo and Valentine. It’s a goddamn furnace between them, despite me only wearing my panties.
“Shit,” I moan, sitting up. A wave of nausea makes me feel like I’m in the middle of the ocean in a storm.
“Sssh”—a hand feathers up and down my spine—“come sleep some more.” Valentine rubs my shoulders when I refuse to lie down.
I do a dry retch, holding a hand over my mouth. “I think I’m about to pass out. I’m so hot.”
I go from sitting on the bed with a heat spike threatening, to up in his arms as Valentine walks quickly through the apartment. The lights are off, and morning is still a while off, but we’re closer to a new day, compared to a late night, judging by the purple hue to the sky.
A small purr tumbles from his chest, and it holds back my temperature from soaring higher. From behind us, I feel Matteo. His presence is like a focus, something for me to grab hold of as Ikeep my eyes shut and my ear glued to Valentine’s chest, hoping not to pass out.
Every part of me feels like it’s about to combust. It might have to do with the cocktails I drank, although I’ve never had such an adverse reaction to alcohol. I didn’t eat anything at the club, so it’s not food poisoning.
It is them. Pure and simple.
A part of me is yearning, needing us to bond as packs do.
A door opens and Valentine purrs louder. A breeze flutters over my blazing skin, making me feel slightly better but nowhere near right.
“We’re outside,” Matteo adds. He’s close by, but he doesn’t touch me and, worried about completely losing the battle I’m already fighting to stave off my heat, I’m grateful. But I’m also sad because of the comfort I know his touch would bring.
A moment later, it’s not me whining about wanting touches, it's the sound of splashing water that consumes me. Valentine takes a step down and then another before he lowers us both into tepid, heavenly water.
“Where are we?” I ask as we keep moving through the water. I can feel it deepen, even though I’m not walking; it’s the way it flows around me and the weightlessness that feels divine over my hyper-sensitive skin.
“Our swimming pool,” Valentine says. “Salt water, so tell me if the water stings.”
“No,” I sigh, opening my eyes, “this is perfect.”
And the view is better. Matteo is next to us, the shimmering lights making him glow ethereally. “Open up, beautiful.”
I do, and he pushes the medication I need into my mouth before lifting a bottle of water to my lips. He turns away, and I nearly start bawling. I know it’s the heat haze, but it doesn’t make the spike of pain in my chest stop aching until he comes back. His brown eyes are full of worry, and I reach out for him,knowing the pool is helping my temperature plummet back to safer levels.
“This is getting out of hand. I’m sorry,” I say, holding on to his hand while leaning my head on Valentine’s chest.
“Don’t apologize,” Matteo says, using his other hand to swipe cool water over my forehead.
We float in a watery paradise until the threat of my heat is cooling, along with a metallic burn on my tongue from the medication. But now, I don’t want to leave their arms for completely different reasons. I adore being touched and held by any of them.
“I’m okay now. Thank you,” I say, and they both brush it off with a noise as different as they are. Neither of them steps away or stops spoiling me.
Valentine walks us over to a ledge where he sits, and Matteo sits next to him, both of them floating me over so I’m between them.
“We seriously can’t have any sex today.” I moan, getting confirmation in filthy sounds from both of them.
“You want to talk about packing properly?” Matteo suggests.
“If our wedding dinner wasn’t so important, we’d already be drowning in my heat, and I’d be scarred by you all. As soon as Vitale is dealt with, I vote we pack. And I don’t need to be in some fancy chalet in southern France or a luxurious nest on a super yacht in the Mediterranean. I just need to be where you are. And I want to line my nest in Tom Ford suits.”
“I won’t rob you of an incredible bonding day, Layne,” Valentine says, running his mouth over my shoulder before he catches himself and pulls away.
“Hmm, I’m pretty sure I will die if you stop all your touches,” I warn him, and I get a husky chuckle, but he doesn’t do it again. Sadly.
“I’m with Valentine. Our packing needs to be special. We took away any opportunity for a wedding in a church or somewhere more poignant away from you. So, think about what you want.”
I close my eyes and sink against them, thinking about the endless possibilities. “I want it to happen as soon as possible. I don’t want us to be interrupted, but I also understand there’s going to be a whole world of trouble after you reclaim what is rightfully yours. Which means, my idea of staying here deserves a lot more consideration from you two. If you’re gunning for your future, you need to be here. We can celebrate anniversaries and birthdays in the future—hell, any special event you can think of anywhere you want—but for right now, the apartment is the safest option.”
