She screams Vero’s name as her orgasm has her shaking. Her eyes snap shut, and I wait for it to pass a little.
“Grab her and hold her tight to your body.”
He does as I ask, and I fuck him until he is panting. Just as he is about to come, I grab the back of his neck. Vero angles his head away, allowing me to lean in and bite down.
Unintelligible words spill from his lips as his body convulses, and I fill his ass, my own orgasm hittingat the same time.
“I love you,” he says to me, and Kayla is smiling at us.
“What?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “Nothing. You are both so adorable.” Then she laughs when I furrow my brow at her. “Your face right now. Sorry, not adorable, you are very rugged and manly.”
That makes Vero laugh, and I push them both off of me, making them both laugh harder as they tumble onto the bed. Vero turns his head to look at her. “We should start doing everything I’m bad at and see if this happens again. What about macramé? Or whittling?”
“Do you even know what those things are?” I ask.
“Nope, but I know I will be bad at them.”
Kayla giggles and I drop beside Vero. “Go to sleep, Vero.”
Kayla snorts and lifts her head to look at me. Her hair is everywhere, and her cheeks are flushed. She reaches across Vero’s waist, and I place my hand on top of hers. Vero falls asleep within minutes, which is unlike him, as his brain never usually shuts down. So this is a moment for the history books, or at least the book of Vero.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
She looks over Vero at me. “For what?”
“Coming back, treating him like a person, and for your forgiveness.”
She smiles. “It’s hard not to forgive him. I don’t understand why people don’t like him—he is authentically himself, and I love that about him. And I really meant it when I said he heals a part of my soul every timewe are together. I have been so broken for so long that it’s hard to trust him, but everything inside me wants to.”
I nod. “I will make sure what happened at the bar never happens again, you have my word. It will be easier now that the idiot microchipped himself.”
Kayla chuckles. “I guess we’ll see how this goes. And I can’t complain about the sex—that’s a bonus.”
“The sex is pretty good.”
I squeeze her hand and close my eyes. She might be good for Vero, but I have a feeling that having someone else as close to him as I am will be good for me. Someone to confide in when things are hard will be a massive weight off my shoulders.
Kayla
For the first time in as long as I can remember, I am happy, but for some reason I have been trying to convince myself I don’t deserve it. While I still don’t know if I can fully trust these men, they are nothing like Aaron or Kyle.
Even though Kyle was only a blip on my radar, I realized after we broke up that he was a convenience, a way to feel secure, and a safe place to live. Aaron messed me up that badly. I try not to think about him, refusing to give him any power over me. It’s why I decided I will do what I want on my own terms, and that I want to be around Vero, to give him a second chance. At least these men wear their reg flags on the outside. Well, except Ares, but he isn’t as smooth as he thinks he is. I’m in control, and I won’t let my parents or any man look down on me for how I choose to live my life.
Rolling over, I find the bed empty. I wasn’t planning on staying the night, but here I am, sunlight streamingthrough the curtains and coffee wafting through the cracked door. I clamber out of the softest bed known to mankind and pick up Vero’s shirt from the floor. Every time I’m here my clothes seem to vanish, and I know it’s Ares who washes them. He is sweet, even though he likes to compartmentalize every action. I know it well; I lived with the best manipulator once, so I can see that behavior from a mile away.
Looking like a hot mess is something they will have to get used to, as I am not the type to rush to put on makeup or worry about my appearance. An oversized shirt, a messy bun, and that is as good as it gets. I stop at the bathroom on my way downstairs to pee, then finger-brush my teeth to try to avoid death breath.
Downstairs, Vero is sitting on the counter—it seems to be his usual spot—while Brawley is cooking again, and Clay is at the table with his coffee, reading something on his phone. Ares is standing at the kitchen island, eating some toast.
“Why are you ready to leave so early?” Clay asks him, looking up from his phone.
“Have to cover the breakfast shift at the bar. Two of my staff have called in sick.”
“I can help,” I say, making my presence known. All four men look my way as I walk into the room and pour myself a coffee.
“I can’t ask you to do that—you have your own shifttonight.”