Page 48 of Peacemaker

He slid his fingers up my chest. “You got it.” He grabbed my throat and held me in place while he kissed me, hard and deep, his violence, always there, always retrained—except when he fought and sometimes when he fucked—fighting to get free.

As soon as his fingers encircled my throat, squeezing gently, my entire body relaxed.

I didn’t know why. It just was.

I lost myself in his roughness, his intensity. I pulled him to me, my hands pressing against his wet, smooth back, loving him with every part of me. God, I loved him.

Someone else was in the bathroom.

I could feel him.

I dragged my mouth away from Shane’s and peered over his shoulder.

Clayton, dressed in a pair of faded jeans and nothing else, leaned against the sink, his arms crossed, watching us.

Alone.

“Clayton,” I whispered.

Shane stiffened and half turned, then buried his fingers in my short hair and tugged, bringing my eyes back to his. Whatever he saw made his fierce stare soften.

He planted a soft kiss on my forehead, then shoved open the shower doors. “You okay, man?”

I felt a twinge of guilt for having left Clayton alone after his traumatic encounter with the demon’s sword.

With Miriam.

His eyes were dark and sunken, and I realized then how much the encounter had affected him. He shuddered, remembering, and though he stared at Shane and me, I wasn’t sure he was seeing either of us.

Concerned, I stepped from the stall, wrapped my wet arms around his neck, and asked him the question Shane had asked me. “What do you need?”

He focused on my face. “I need control of that sword, Trinity.”

As much as Miriam was obsessed with him, he was obsessed with her. I blew out a hard breath. “I know.” If he controlled the sword, the sword could not control him.

Shane shut off the water and followed me from the shower. He placed a fluffy towel around my shoulders, then shrugged. “You want the sword, we’ll get you the sword.”

I released Clayton’s tense body and stepped back, then caught his hand and laced my fingers with his.

He gave my fingers a squeeze. “Thanks. Both of you.”

Shane, completely comfortable with his nudity—and his flagging erection—gave the other man a nod. “We’ve got your back.”

“Sorry for…” Clayton gestured at the shower. “Interrupting.”

They took my breath, the two of them. Watching them, my mouth dried up, my heart galloped, and my stomach tightened. Shane had awakened my lust monster in the shower, and I really wanted him to finish what he’d started.

The air grew suddenly heavy, and both men jerked their heads around to pin me with sharp stares.

No one moved.

Usually, sex wasn’t awkward. We’d always managed to find our alone time, and no one was left out or neglected.

But now both men watched me, both of them aroused. Both of them in need. And I wanted them both.

I let the towel slide from my body. Then, without a word, I padded from the bathroom, walked across the floor, and got into my bed.

And there I waited.