“That can be arranged.” Jace smirked before coating his dick and replacing his fingers with the blunt head of it.
Laurel drew Nolan’s attention, kissing him deeply. She trailed her fingers down the exposed column of his neck on the opposite side of his wound then over his pec as Jace advanced. The other man’s cock was thick and long, spreading him open as if they’d done this a million times before. But they hadn’t.
It was the first time he’d held Jace inside him, as he’d craved for so long. Being hugged tight by Laurel as Jace burrowed inside made him feel, finally, complete. At the center of their universe, surrounded by their love and attention and adoration, he believed them.
They loved him and hoped for the same things he did. A life together. One filled with lazy sex in the mornings, weekends watching Jace perform, filling a home of their own with the amazing art pieces Laurel crafted and took for granted. Peace when he wasn’t in the middle of an underground war. Maybe someday even children of their own to raise as they wished they’d grown up.
Bliss would carry him through the darkest nights and cleanse the taint on his soul that threatened to stain him after spending too much time in the company of the dregs of humanity.
Nolan reached behind him, clasping Jace’s flank and drawing him even closer, deeper. At the same time he leaned forward, sealing his mouth to Laurel’s. She swallowed his moans and he did the same for her as the three of them fused into a single inseparable unit.
They stayed that way for a long time, barely moving, swaying together and enjoying simply being bonded so tightly. When the bliss of knowing he belonged to them heart and soul overwhelmed him, he poured himself into Laurel even as the pulses of his ass inspired Jace to flood him with his release.
Laurel cried out both of their names as she clenched then released in rolling waves that seemed to batter her for ages. It had been the best sex of his life and they’d hardly moved. But they were tangled together in a three-way embrace that he would never extract himself from.
With everything right in his world, and a wide smile on his face, Nolan closed his eyes. Jace and Laurel whispered to him together, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he promised before drifting off in their arms, knowing they wouldn’t let anything happen while he took a turn finally and truly resting.
22
Marcus collected another crystal glass from one of the roving waiters in tuxedos James had arranged for the grand opening of the Shields’ new headquarters—which also served as a benign front for their less advertised, and much more expensive specialty security services—as well as their living spaces above it. They were normally jeans and T-shirt people, but James had insisted they clean up for his big night.
Kason and Jace had just finished a set on the temporary stage James had erected for them. Marcus had to admit, Jace was more talented than he’d realized, grabbing the focus of the entire room when he’d sung an original song he’d written for Nolan and Laurel while strumming a gorgeous sapphire guitar with mother of pearl inlay that gleamed in the LED lights.
Although their latest op hadn’t gone exactly to plan, or maybe because of that, Marcus felt like celebrating. It could also be because he’d also moved into the apartment James had designed for him and the Powertools crew—plus Mark—had helped bring to life. It had made him feel like the high roller he could be now if he chose. Modern, sleek, and fit for the wealthy, worldly operative he was now even if he still felt like the same middleclass Marcus he’d grown up as.
Sometimes he wondered how he’d gotten lucky enough to meet Jordan and become one of the team. His tendency to kick ass when necessary—a skill learned growing up as one of the few Black kids in his neighborhood—was an asset here, not something likely to get him thrown in the slammer like his mom had always warned.
Exciting job that paid incredibly well, did some good in the world even if no one ever knew he existed, a fat bank account, a plush place to live surrounded by like-minded and adventurous friends…well, he damn near had it all.
So why was he grimacing as he slammed his ridiculously priced and extremely smooth whiskey?
His stare landed on the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Dressed in a green satin gown with stiletto heels and glittery make-up, she drew his gaze even from across the command center conference room despite the people flitting between them.
He was used to seeing her in tactical gear or scrubs, which were hot enough on her. That dress with its plunging neckline and nonexistent back which put her toned body on display was about to inspire him to do something stupid.
Without conscious thought, he strolled in Kennedy’s direction. A crowd gathered around the boardroom table, which had been wrapped in plastic and turned into a tattoo station for their resident artist, Blakely. It was becoming a ritual to hire her for their gatherings.
This time, it was Nolan in the hot seat.
A goofy grin plastered across his face, making him look more like a giant loveable puppy with action figure hair than the intimidating and lethal agent Marcus knew him to be in the field. Laurel perched on one side of him, holding his hand, while Jace stood behind him, his fingers resting on Nolan’s shoulders. They stared at the spot where Blakely inked his lovers’ names onto his arm.
Their relationship was solid. Permanent.
For the second time that evening, Marcus found himself jealous as hell. At least this time it was of flesh-and-blood humans instead of a satiny emerald dress that hugged Kennedy in all the right places. Damn, she was gorgeous.
Even better than that, she was brilliant, a doctor, and kept her head in an emergency. He’d witnessed her save more lives than he could count and never once flinch. He wouldn’t ever say it out loud, but he’d been sure that he was watching Nolan’s life drain away between his fingers that day they’d taken down Draven. That she’d saved him had taken his admiration to a whole new level.
Too bad she never bothered to give him so much as a bat of her long, thick lashes outside of their missions. Dr. Kennedy Emerson had zero interest in him, of that he was certain.
And now, on top of having to ignore her fine ass in tactical pants, he was also going to have to up his guard, because…fuck his life…as of a few hours ago, they were also neighbors. Damn James and his wicked sense of humor, putting their apartments side by side.
“Having fun, Marcus?” Speak of the little fucker. Their command center manager strutted up to Marcus and slung an arm around his waist. He’d never seen the guy tipsy before and had to admit it was tough to stay grumpy at the cute bastard.
“Tons. Sorry about your car.” Okay, he was being a bit of an ass, but shit talk carried them far in the Shields, and James was definitely one of them now.
“My car? What happened to it now?” James practically shrieked as he trotted toward the window.
“Don’t worry. Bryce is having it towed to Hot Rods.” Neil stepped up to his husband and shot Marcus a glare. “It’ll be good as new again…soon.”
“Who hurt my baby?” James shouted as he looked around the room.
“Oops.” Nolan glanced up from staring at Laurel and Jace’s names now permanently gracing his bulging biceps. “Sorry, bro. It’s so small, I didn’t see it when I backed in. I already told the Hot Rods I’d pay for the damage.”