“Shitttt,” he hisses, my grip on his thick muscles pushing him over the edge.
Brennan stops moving my head when Cameron jerks, his cock pulsing in my mouth as a hot stream coats the back of my throat.
“Look at you with Brennan’s cum all over your tits and mine on your tongue.” Cameron bends over, his face so close to mine that his hot breath fans across my heated cheeks. “Swallow every drop, Taryn.”
Damn, I wish those words didn’t turn me on. Surprisingly, I listen to him, swallowing.
He pulls out of my mouth, leaving it empty. Cameron smirks as his gaze locks on my thighs. Gripping his pants, he pulls them up and tucks his length back inside. “Oh, look at that, brother. Your taunting backfired. I win.”
Ugh.
I was bound to lose. They practically set me up for failure. My thighs were burning, spread apart like that, but the ache between them was stronger.
Standing, my exhausted body attempts to hold itself up on wobbly legs, my bones liquid with the rest of me. If only theground could soak me up with the rain from earlier this evening. Dirt and blades of grass are plastered to my knees, indented from kneeling for so long.
I wipe my mouth with my sleeve and close my eyes, the tiredness taking over quickly. Or at least that’s what I’m blaming it on because I’m not sure I can look the two of them in the eye right now. The way the air and their gazes are still crackling against my clammy skin is a big enough hint that they know I liked it.
I grumble when two strong arms wrap around me and sweep me off my feet. I hook my arms around Cameron’s neck and lean into his chest, too tired to care that I should be shoving him away and trying to run again. His scent of wood, leather, and a hint of cinnamon envelops me, the sleep dragging me under as they wrench me farther into their underworld.
They’re taking me back.
“You guys are going to carry me all the way back?” I question drowsily.
“We have two pairs of perfectly functional arms.” He clears his throat, attempting to remove the sexy rasp in his tone. “This is nothing, sweetheart.”
I sigh. “You’re awfully full of yourself, aren’t you?”
Cameron lowers his voice to a whisper. “I won a bet. Next time you run or break one of the three rules, you’ll be the one who’s full of me.”
FIFTEEN | TARYN
It’s been three days.
Three long days of being trapped in the tower because of the Lindenvale brothers, with nothing to do but read books off the shelf and contemplate all the life decisions that led me here.
They have visited off and on, bringing me food and keeping me company, though I don’t want it. Their presence mainly consists of them sitting in the room while I ignore them—or escorting me to the shower on the fourth floor in Brennan’s room.
They are always waiting there when I get out, and it’s infuriating. I have privacy, but don’t have it at the same time. I’m just thankful that the night they brought me back into my room, all my clothes were folded neatly in the dresser drawers. I don’t even want to know how they got them, but I strongly suspect Colten broke into my house when he went to get Rossco.
Jess hasn’t visited since the first time, and I almost wish it were her keeping me company instead of the twins. Flashbacks of the night I sucked them off in the orchard invade my mind every time they sit in my room and watch me. My blood scorchesthe inside of my veins whenever it crosses my mind, leaving a blistering guilt that terrorizes me when I’m alone.
I despise that they hold that power over me now. They know it, too.
I’ve only seen Colten a few times out my window. He’s either going in and out of his house or caring for Rossco. And they both disappear during the day, which pisses me off because the need to embrace Rossco is overwhelming. To at least have some trace of a constant before everything went to shit. They won’t allow him in the house or my room. When I asked why, they just said, “Because Colten said so,” and left it at that.
That solidifies the thought that Colten is the one who holds all the power around here. It wafts off him in tangible waves. For some reason, my body is in tune to know whenever he’s near. The hairs on my arms stand on end, and chills flurry across my arms. And then, when I approach the window, he’s there. Never long enough for me to finish the monologue of curse words I mutter under my breath.
The last few nights, around one in the morning, the slam of a car door has stirred me. I would wake up, rush to the window facing the backyard, and see a woman strut down the sidewalk in ridiculously tall heels that could wedge between those cracks in the concrete. She would knock on the door and wait, rocking on her heels before he opened the door.
He always pulls them inside hurriedly, but only after making direct eye contact with me. His sly smile grates my every fucking nerve because he knows I am there plastered against the glass like one of those barnacles clinging to a ship’s hull. I’m plagued by curiosity and boredom.
Embarrassingly enough, I would linger patiently, waiting and squinting as if I could see what was going on through the curtains. Sometimes, I would catch movement behind the slit,bodies disturbing the light coming from one of the rooms on the side of the cottage.
The woman wouldn’t leave until an hour later, looking more dilapidated than when she arrived. Her dark figure rushing out was lit by only the solar lights lining the sidewalk, her shadow floating across the silver blades of grass from the moon.
Both nights, it was a different woman. The first had long black hair, tight jeans, and a black lace cami. The other strutted across the pavement in those damn five-inch heels wearing a trench coat. And by my intuition, I’m assuming there was nothing or very little underneath.
My skin crawled while my brain conjured up the worst because Colten gives me that vibe.
