Karen dipped her head and sucked Max's balls. On a groan, he yanked his cock from my mouth and shoved it into hers. Even with the cock ravishing her mouth, she managed something close to a smile.
Oh, I don't think so, sweetie.
I planted my left palm against Garrett's chest so I could dip my head lower. With my other hand, I cupped Max's balls and drew a stone into my mouth. I sucked harder still until I had all of him, every millimeter of him, in my mouth. Jostling his balls around with my tongue, I worked him as if I were the agitation cycle on an erotic washing machine, and he'd set the cycle to heavy-duty.
"Goddamn it." Max's voice was a tortured groan as he pulled out of Karen's mouth and jammed his erection back into mine.
Victorious, I sucked him madly; he thrust with the same maniacal pace. I wanted to send him barreling over the edge, and I knew just the way.
Fighting my own pleasure—dear god, the things Garrett was doing with his fucking tongue were worthy of medals—I wrapped a hand around the base of Sir's erection and yanked my head back. Before he could say anything, I drew his glans over Karen's bottom lip. My gaze locked with hers, and I knew she understood.
Together, we kissed, licked and nipped at Max's erection. I drew my lips up and down his length, and she mirrored my movements. She pressed her palm to my cheek as we teased Sir. My skin heated where she touched me. The shiver that followed surprised me to my core, and when our lips brushed, Sir's cock still between us, I found myself wondering what it would feel like to kiss another woman, to feel the softness of feminine lips against mine.
Whoa.
Another climax shot through me. Pleasure pulsed out in frenzied waves, originating in the spot where Garrett had sucked my clit into his mouth, and I screamed. Max bent and captured my cries with his mouth, all while Garrett continued sucking my clit. He batted the bud around with his tongue, pushing my orgasm upward until I couldn't fucking breathe.
Ecstasy suspended the air in my lungs. My muscles went rigid. Fearing I couldn't hold myself up another second, I braced my palms on Garrett's chest and tried not to fall, to keep my sex against his mouth as long as I could, but without warning, Max took me by the waist, yanked, and positioned me across Garrett's chest. Max slammed his cock into my trembling sex and fucked me with nearly uncontrolled passion.
Whack, whack, whack.
My taut nipples scraped against Garrett's chest with each thrust, and I heard Karen's gasp. She wasn't a screamer like me. Her orgasms were quiet, but I could feel her shaking, especially when she rubbed soft hands over my back. I reached for her and touched her thigh as we came together, all four of us, in this beautiful moment.
Something pulled me from dreams, and for once, it wasn't haunting images of Théo Roux.
Night blanketed the room. Still half asleep, I reached for Max, but the body next to me wasn't his, wasn't even male. The skin was much too soft, the frame much too delicate.
Karen.
Her and Garrett's monstrous bed felt too big without the other half of our quartet. Gently, careful to keep from waking her, I sat, looked around, but found no trace of our other halves.
With its cream-colored walls, save for one with an orange-brown paint that complimented the exposed wooden beams along the ceiling, the space matched the rest of the house: sparsity interspersed with exquisitely framed paintings, all Karen's.
One of the bedroom windows was thrown open, and unease filtered over me as real as the salty sea breeze. I'd fallen asleep with a window open? How easily, even with Max's security detail, would it have been for Théo to—
No. Don't go there.
I wouldn't think about him. I wouldn't. I'd just go find Max and slide into his arms. I'd be fine then. I always felt safest wrapped up in him.
I eased from the mattress and found Max's button-down in a pile on the distressed hardwood floor. I grabbed the material, pulled it around me, and started searching for Max.
Save for a few scattered nightlights, darkness clung to the air. The lights pushed away just enough shadow for me to find my way through the unfamiliar space without stubbing my toe or whacking my shin. No one sat in the living or dining rooms. I was about to head to the entertaining room where we'd shared dinner, but the muffled sound of men's voices tickled my ear. Familiar voices. Had they been what had pulled me from sleep?
Reversing direction, I followed the sound until I came upon the gentle glow of light streaming from beneath a cracked door. I'd about reached the door when Max's words froze the blood in my veins. Even muffled through the partially open door, they terrified me.
"An inspector from Hampshire Constabulary approached me after I was alone with Mum. He wanted my permission to do a drugs panel."
There was a pause, punctuated only by the scrape of what sounded like someone dragging the legs of a chair over the hardwood floor. When Garrett responded, his voice was equally soft, but worry blended in every word.
"I don't understand. Does he suspect foul play? I thought your mum just fell victim to her coma."
"That's what I thought, too, but the inspector says someone who took care of Mum—he wouldn't give me the name—came to him and said she was showing no signs of getting worse. Nothing indicating a sudden downturn. He or she was adamant something was wrong. Said there'd been someone lurking in the garden a few days before everything happened."
My heart rate kicked up—so did my anxiety—but I shook my head. No, don't go there. But my thoughts were already racing down Panic Boulevard, headed straight toward a reality I didn't want to be true.
"You think this person saw Théo?" Garrett asked.
Théo.
My knees buckled, and the familiar, hated sensation of being hooked to a low-volt battery streamed through me. My lungs seemed to suddenly forget how to move oxygen, and my heart rate skyrocketed. I reached out to steady myself before I hit the ground.
Breathe, I told myself. Fucking breathe.
Lights twinkled at the edges of my vision, but I couldn't tell if it was the lights or the darkness closing in on me faster. The world teetered on its axis, and a hot, searing heat rocketed to all points in my body.
Max and Garrett continued speaking in those hushed tones, but I couldn't make out the words anymore. The roaring between my ears was too intense. My heart banged like a deranged drummer against my sternum until it felt as if I would explode—or my sternum would crack.
Stop, I ordered, lungs burning, heart pounding. Stop.
I wrenched my eyes closed and tried to picture the closet where Dr. Marcus told me to store the bad thoughts, but the closet was blurry. I couldn't get it to focus, but then, I caught the hint of the sound of waves drifting in through some open window or door.
Like I'd done before, I timed my breathing with the gentle rhythm. Pressing my forehead and palms flat against the wall, I focused only on the waves as they rushed in and retreated, rushed in and retreated, rushed in and retreated.
Rushed in.
And retreated.
I pictured myself standing at the edge of the water and took the image of Théo's face, of the letter opener he'd held the night he'd attacked me, and when the water rushed past my feet, I placed the image atop the water and let it retreat out to sea and out of sight.
I repeated the act until the roaring between my ears quieted to a gentle hum, and I could make out the sound of their voices once again.