~ 15 ~
PEYTON
The ceiling fan turned achingly, almost mockingly, slow. It didn’t cool my body, which I’d already stripped down to the bare essentials in the quest for blissful oblivion. Instead it whirled uselessly above me, laughing its ass off, casting flickering shadows on the moonlit walls.
I needed sleep, but sleep wouldn’t come. It was well after midnight, and my only visitors were restlessness, conflict, and frustration.
Frustration?
Yes, that kind of frustration. In reality, it had been a while — much longer than I liked to admit. And even longer if you wanted to count anything meaningful, or exciting, or especially fulfilling. Because in that department, my time with Donovan had gotten progressively worse.
Right now my body was humming with needs that couldn’t be met. Only theycouldbe met, and that was a big problem.
Or rather,threebig problems.
Fuck.
I thought about Colson, walking away. Leaving no room for anything that might’ve happened between us, to cost him even the slightest bit of control. I thought about Theo, and the smoldering kiss we’d shared. How incredible it felt to float there, weightless, with my legs wrapped around him.
And then there was Ripley.
God, I hated Ripley — but I’d also grown to love him. I loved his rock-hard abs, his magnificent ass, the sexy twang in his voice whenever he berated me. He’d called me by a dozen nicknames already, and almost none of them good. But every once in a while he referred to me as “darlin’,” and my knees would buckle.
Yes, frustration was the major hurdle keeping me from sleep. Frustration, and the need for release.
I stretched, pretending not to notice my own fingers as they slowly crawled their way down my belly. The middle one pierced the waistband of my thong, and then stopped.
No, I didn’t want to go there. I mean it would be great and all — it always was — but it wasn’t what I wanted.
It just didn’t make sense, having to do myself. Not when there were three ridiculously hot guys within a few feet of my bedroom door.
Conflict arose. A decision was made.
I sat up in bed, fully aware that my pulse was still racing. It made no sense, just lying here. Not when I could throw something on, head down to the kitchen, and make myself a snack.
A moment later I was padding down the hallway, passing the boys’ bedrooms with slow but deliberately heavysteps. I drifted past Colson’s door, then Ripley’s, then Theo’s. Not one of them opened. Not one person stirred.
Then the click of ice in a glass reached my ears.
I found him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. Shirtless. Barefoot. His bronze skin shining, even in the semi-darkness.
“You’re staring,” Ripley said, cradling his whiskey.
“I’m thinking,” I shot back.
He chuckled into the glass as he took a swig. “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”
I ignored him as I pulled open the fridge door and grabbed a water. I needed a reason to be here, other than looking for trouble.
“You’re sort of an asshole,” I theorized. “You know that?”
He raised a brow. “Sort of?”
God, why did he have to be so fuckinggoodlooking! And shirtless. And—
“You could be a little nicer yourself, you know. I don’t usually associate with women who’ve kneed me in the balls.”
“And yet…” I smiled, gesturing grandly. “Here you are.”
