I sit up, blinking at my surroundings. No one’s paying attention to our trio. Rooster’s studying me intently. Jigsaw’s watching me with a serious expression I haven’t seen on his face often. They’re arranged around me in a way that provides a pocket of privacy.
My mouth twitches into a shaky smile. “Phew. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” Rooster runs his hands over my arms. “Can you tell me what brought that on?”
For a second, my mind’s completely blank.
“The Sprite.” Shivers run all over my body. “That asshole ruined my favorite soda.”
Rooster
So much for a night of relaxation and letting go. First, the sex show from my brothers. Then Shelby’s panic attack.
Although, if she was going to have one, here was probably the safest place to do it. No one noticed. And even if they did, no one would dare say anything and make her uncomfortable.
“She okay?” Jigsaw asks as I step into the hallway.
I leave our bedroom door open so I can keep an eye on Shelby in case she needs me. For now, she’s a small, still bundle under the heavy comforter.
“I think she’ll be all right.” I close the door until it’s only open a crack, hoping our conversation won’t disturb her.
Jigsaw’s antsy, rubbing his hands together, curling them into fists, shifting from foot to foot. “I should’ve cut more fingers off that son of a bitch.”
“I’m really regretting turning him over to Jackson now.”
“I know why you did it, but yeah. It sucks. What if that happens to her while she’s on tour? Thank fuck she was here. With us. With you, I mean.”
I fight to keep the smile off my face. This is why Jiggy’s been my best friend for so long. He’s ready to dismember anyone who hurts his family one second, worried about my girl’s feelings the next. Under all his scary indifference, he’s a sensitive soul. Way, way down.
“Her doctor said something like this might happen. I’ll see how it goes. If she has another episode, I’ll call one of the doctors she recommended.”
“You two are so couple-y now.”
I wait for him to add some detail to the observation. “Your point?”
“Nothing. It’s good. You still planning to go get the thing tomorrow?”
“Yeah, if you’ll give me a ride.”
“What are you going to tell Shelby?”
“That I have an errand to run. She’ll be safe here.”
“She doesn’t know?”
“Nope.”
“All right.” He slaps my shoulder. “Text me in the morning.”
“You gonna go downstairs and check out Pants’ sack again?”
“No, dick.” He waves his hand at the bedroom door. “You want me to sit by the bed and watch you two sleep?”
“Only if you read us a bedtime story.” I grin at him.
“See you in the morning, fucker.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Shelby
The utter joy of being alive and free courses through me, pulling me awake.
It takes a second to remember where I am.
And what’s happened.
Today, I feel lighter. Optimistic.
I peel my cheek off Rooster’s arm and slowly sit up. His eyes are closed, but he reaches for me as I slip out of bed. “I’ll be right back,” I whisper.
The thick, soft carpet silences my steps as I tiptoe into the bathroom. I take care of business and splash some water on my face, but don’t bother looking in the mirror.
I’m alive. That’s all that matters.
In the bedroom, light spills around the edges of curtains covering the high, rectangular windows. The air-conditioner kicks on. Cool air drifts over my shoulders.
Rooster’s still sprawled on his back. The thin white sheet covers him from the waist down, except for one big foot and part of his leg poking out. A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. A surge of love and a whole lot of lust speed through me. This big, beautiful, sexy man rescued me. Risked everything to find me.
Last night, when panic nearly consumed me, he patiently helped me breathe through it, then tucked me into bed.
I’m bursting with the need to be close to his body. Enjoy every inch of him.
At the side of the bed, I run my fingers over his leg.
A sexy hum rumbles from his chest but he doesn’t open his eyes.
I want to wake him in a special way. Lavish attention on him. He won’t mind, right? What guy would be upset about that?
Carefully, I shift the sheet to the side. Black camo boxer-briefs block the path to what I’m after.
Softly, so I don’t disturb his slumber, I press my knee to the mattress on my side of the bed and crawl over. Kneeling next to him, I take a moment to absorb his perfect rugged beauty. Thick hair, all tousled from sleep. Beard. Broad, sturdy shoulders. Hard chest. Chiseled abdominal muscles. So, so carefully, I place a knee between his thighs and bend to kiss his stomach.
“Hmm.” He shifts. His fingers brush over his abs briefly. I lift my gaze, watching him for a few seconds.
Still asleep.
Backing up a few inches, I hook my fingers in his briefs and tug them down just enough to free—perfect.
Consider me lumberjill, here to take care of this case of morning wood. I grip his cock—rock hard, hot, and silky smooth. Desire pools low and insistent in my body. But I really want to take my time. I stroke him once, enjoying the feel of him under my fingers. My center aches for him, reminding me how long it’s been—nope, I’m staying right here in this moment.
I lower my head and trace my tongue against the underside of his cock.
He wakes with a sharp inhale that fades to a low, rumbling groan. “Oh, fuck. What are you doing?” he rasps, reaching to push my hair off my face.
I feel like it should be self-explanatory. But maybe he needs a better demonstration. My hands tremble as I caress his velvety, soft flesh. “I wanted to wake you up in a special way.”
“You did.”
I kiss the tip of him, my tongue darting out for another taste. He groans a second time and falls back against the pillows. I shift closer, curling over to take him deep in my mouth. My tongue flattens against him. His hips jerk, and for a second I choke. He eases down and I continue.
His hands ball into fists at his sides. More curses spill from his lips. I glance up, admiring the way his stomach muscles clench and quiver. He plants his elbows in the mattress, lifting himself so he can watch me better. I’m a performer, after all, so I put on a good show.
He groans, his head falling back. “Shelby, baby. Fuck.” After several minutes of me savoring the taste and feel of him, he reaches for me. “Please. Come here.”
But I’m having too much fun. I suck harder, working my hand and mouth in a rhythmic motion that leaves him shaking. There’s something so satisfying about having my big, powerful man under my spell that I can’t stop.
“Oh, fuck,” he groans, tangling his fingers in my hair. “That’s it. Right there. That’s so good.” He groans again, throwing his head back and lifting his hips. More appreciative noises rumble out of him. “Best way I’ve ever woken up.”