“Right.But we didn’t know our DNA lineage until we escaped.”A dark shadow flashes across his face.“Doesn’t matter what those tests say.”
“They’re still your brothers.”
“Yeah.Until I push them off a cliff.”He winces.“Bad joke.Delete, delete.”
“Monty wasn’t in the Arctic with you?”
“No.We didn’t meet him until we escaped.And before you ask… The men in my family aren’t fucking one another.Legally, Frankie is married to my dad.But she’s also married to Leo and Kody in every other sense of the word.They share her.Standard foursome rules apply.Guys can’t make eye contact.Guys can’t make bodily contact.High fives are acceptable.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Yeah.I’m kidding.There’s definitely contact.You know… One in the pink?Two in the stink?Please, tell me you get it so I can shut up.”
“I get it.”
“Praise Jesus.”
As I let that sink in, a million other questions bubble up.The sharing thing doesn’t faze me.Jag has always been openly bisexual with an aversion to monogamy.
The men I just met are imposing, domineering, testosterone-fueled alphas.Like Jag.Except they’re committed in a conjugal relationship with one woman.
A woman who seemed entirely too comfortable prancing around naked in front of Wolf.
“What is your relationship with Frankie?”The question is out before I can stop it.
“She’s like a sister to me.Sometimes a mother.Other times, a best friend.”
“But you’ve had sex with her.”
“What Frankie and I shared…” His focus falters, looking through me, not at me.“It was more intimate than sex.”
My mind sifts through situations that fit that description, and I take a dark turn fast.
Held captive by a psychopath in the Arctic Circle.
Only been in civilization for six months.
I didn’t exist.
They’ve been through hell.
He stares at his empty plate.“If you stick around, maybe I’ll tell you the story someday.”
“Thank you.For dinner.And a place to stay.For all of it.”Even though it’s weird as hell.
“I know it’s a lot, but you’re safe here.”
God, that word again.
Safe.
Everyone throws it around like it means something.I’ve never heard a word more fragile.People promise it, whisper it, swear by it, and still, the worst things happen anyway.
I lean back and examine him.He’s barefoot, lean but muscled, with those wild blue eyes that never seem to settle.His damp hair curls at the ends, and there’s a smear of charcoal under one eye like he forgot to wipe off his makeup completely.
He’s lethally beautiful.
Beautiful men have always been trouble for me.They make promises with their eyes, seduce with their tongues, and vanish before morning.Or worse, they stay and destroy me slowly.
