Page 226 of My Three Billionaire Rockstars

I watch as he comes for me, the raw animal and the man all tangled in one. His jaw is clenched, lips parted, eyes locked to mine so hard I could scream.

The heat inside me triples. I feel his cock jerk, the spill of him flooding through me as he fucks it deep, every muscle in his body flexing hard as steel.

He doesn’t look away, and the force of it’s like a floodlight, the dark, wild want of him crackling across the gap between our bodies with enough voltage to fry me alive.

Julian’s right behind him, his hands gripping my hips so hard I know tomorrow there will be prints. He’s not quiet, doesn’t try to hide anything. He makes a primal, feral sound as he empties out inside me, hips stuttering.

I come again with them, all three of them, my body a live wire, my heart a detonator, blowing apart at the exact same moment they do.

Afterward, the air shivers with the leftover voltage. My legs are shot, noodles, worse than useless. I’m smushed, fusion style, between muscle and sweat and the wall.

Everything that just detonated me is already folding in on itself, a tight cocoon of arms and voices and gentle, fumbled touches. Touches that set me alight because now I know they mean something.

Now I know this is really going to be something.

FORTY-TWO

Gabe

Inotice the shift in her before anyone says a word about it.

That’s the problem with paying attention to someone too closely. Eventually, even their silences become recognizable.

Willow’s quieter this morning.

Not enough for Julian to pick up on, because she still laughs at one of his ridiculous comments about Daisy “emotionally manipulating breakfast opportunities,” and she still rolls her eyes when Xander steals half her toast without asking.

But the energy underneath it is different. Pulled inward.

I watch her from across the kitchen while pretending to read through touring budgets on my tablet.

She’s sitting curled into herself at the island, coffee cupped between both hands even though it’s probably gone cold by now. Her attention drifts in and out of conversations around her, smile delayed by half a second every time someone speaks directly to her.

Thinking too much. Spiraling. I recognize the signs because I do the same thing.

Julian eventually disappears into Studio B after receiving an enthusiastic voice memo from the Wild Hearts drummer, and Xander heads upstairs to take a call from management regarding the new single rollout.

That leaves the kitchen quieter.

Just me. Her. Coffee. The soft morning buzz of the compound settling into another day.

Willow stares out the windows toward the trees beyond the estate.

“You haven’t insulted me in almost twenty minutes,” I say finally. “I’m starting to get concerned.”

Her mouth twitches faintly. “You always notice stuff, huh?”

“Yes.”

“No denial or fake modesty?”

I set the tablet aside and lean back against the counter, studying her carefully. “What’s going on?

“Nothing.”

“Lie.”

She glares weakly over the rim of her mug. “You’re very annoying.”