She conceded, allowing him to guide her, his cock retreating slowly before sliding in again. Rafe cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. She met his gaze, holding steady as Holt sank inside her inch by glorious inch.
They filled her to the point of pain, but she rode it out until it morphed into pleasure.
Holt stilled inside her. “Bailey?”
“Hmm?”
“You okay?”
“Better than okay,” she admitted, still holding Rafe’s stare. “I’ll be better if you both fuck me now.”
The smile that pulled at Rafe’s mouth was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.
And then they were fucking her. Alternating at first, pushing in deep and slow, retreating while the other slid inside. Her nerve endings sang as pleasure coursed through her, making her skin tight and her nipples tighter. Every glorious sensation came together, culminating in the deepest parts of her, then expanded slowly, growing more intense by the second.
“Make me come!” Bailey pressed her face into Rafe’s shoulder as they plowed into her, harder, deeper, faster. “Oh, God, yes!”
She cried out, gritting her teeth as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed through every part of her, moving from her center to her fingertips and her scalp. The intensity blinded her until she felt them still and heard their soft grunts and groans as they came, filling her at the same time.
“That was amazing,” she gasped.
She remembered nothing after that except the smile on her face as she succumbed to physical exhaustion.
***
When Holt got up, Rafe remained wherehe was, his arms banded around Bailey, holding her while her breaths deepened.
She had passed out cold, relaxing against him.
Holt returned with a washcloth, tending to Bailey while Rafe listened to the soft rasp of her breaths. He didn’t want to leave, but the panic was churning. He’d thought for a minute he’d dodged the bullet, but now that the evening had crescendoed, he was left with only his thoughts. And as usual, they were taking him down a very dark path, one he didn’t want anyone to have to venture with him.
“Let’s take her to bed,” Holt said, moving to her side and lifting her into his arms.
Bailey curled into Holt, her arms sliding around his neck as she held onto him.
“Give me a minute,” Rafe told him, staring at the ceiling.
Holt grunted, then left the room with Bailey.
A minute passed, and Rafe felt the twisting intensify in his gut. When it spread to his chest, he knew there was nothing he could do. Staying wouldn’t prove anything other than he was a pathetic excuse for a man because, try as he might, he couldn’t fight the demons that still haunted him. Not even his love and desire for the two people he wanted more than his next breath was powerful enough to keep him there. He knew if he closed his eyes, if he let sleep claim him, the demons would appear in his dreams. They would have him in their clutches. There would be no escaping them.
As quietly as he could, Rafe got to his feet. He pulled on his jeans and his shirt, grabbing his boots before rushing out the back door.
Like a thief in the night, he fled, only he didn’t take anything with him.
Instead, he left his heart back there with Bailey and Holt.
Chapter Twenty-One
Bailey woke against a hard, warm body. Something in her brain told her not to move, so she came awake slowly. She let the light filter into her foggy mind, the sounds register—the air conditioner, someone breathing deeply.
Holt.
She was snuggled up against him, the comforter covering her, his heartbeat steady beneath her ear.
It only took a moment to realize that, at some point, someone had moved her to her bed.
“Morning,” Holt whispered, his beard stubble brushing against her temple.
