Page 193 of Conquered

“Maybe,” I start, glad I grabbed my coat, wool scarf, and beanie hat before we left the suite as the biting January temperature hits my exposed face. It may be brilliant sunshine, but it’s still winter in England. We stop in front of the open car door, and I turn to face him. “Or maybe it’s because I didn’t quite follow his instructions about what to wear today and left some bits on the bed.”

Giving him a quick peck on his still lips, I climb into the car and shut the door, immediately engulfed in a hug from Lexi.

“Why did Loki look so confused?” she asks, and I chuckle.

About ten minutes later I get an incoming text.

Angel: ::devil emoji:: You naughty minx! He’ll spank you when you get back! Xxx

A laugh leaves my lips even as my thighs clench with the thought of the punishment that awaits me upon my return.

Ispend a wonderful day at a high-end spa with Lexi, drinking champagne and being pampered to within an inch of my life. We have full body hot stone massages, pedicures and manicures, mud wraps, facials with the most wonderful smelling products, and spend time in the hot tub and pool.

The car that picks us up takes us to The Hard Rock Cafe, where the guys and Ryan are waiting. We gorge ourselves on burgers, fries, and milkshakes, all whilst listening to nineties rock music, and admiring the memorabilia lining the walls.

Yawning, we head to the car that’ll take us back to the hotel, Lexi kissing me goodnight, saying that we will see them tomorrow. I must fall asleep on the way home because the next thing I know I’m being carried into our suite.

Looking up, I give Jax a bleary-eyed smile as he holds me effortlessly, even though he still looks pretty tired himself. He sets me down gently on the bed, helping me to strip off, and then we crawl under the covers, Loki joining us a moment later.

I fall back asleep surrounded by warmth and love, feeling so safe sandwiched between two of my guys, like nothing can ever touch me as long as they are near.

Iwake up, unsure at first what woke me, then hear the hint of a piano melody caressing my skin being played somewhere nearby. Gently extracting myself from the sleeping men in my bed, I pad naked across the plush carpeted floor and out the door, heading towards the main living area and the haunting sound.

My skin tingles, a tentative smile drawing my lips upwards as I gaze at Ash sitting at the instrument, the lid down so to quieten the sound, wearing only light coloured sweats. His tattooed hands are on the keys, his eyes closed as he plays a piece that makes my soul ache. It’s utterly beautiful whilst also being desperately sad, and moisture stings my eyes as I watch him shrouded in darkness, the only light in the room coming from a streetlight outside that casts everything in an eerie orange glow.

I remember the story Kai told me, about when they were thirteen or so, and Ash had tried to run away to become a concert pianist, but then his father had found them, and by the sounds of it, punished him severely. I thought he no longer played, that was the impression Kai gave me anyway. But as his fingers effortlessly move over the keys, my heart swells to know that he must have found a way. He wouldn’t be this good if he hadn’t played all these years.

As the piece draws to a close, he looks up, his hands not faltering even as a banked heat enters his grey orbs when he spots me leaning against the doorframe, naked, watching him.

“It’s calledOpus 38, by Dustin O’Halloran,” he explains, his voice gruff as the last note resounds in the still night air. “I learned it after Luc...died.”

My feet carry me closer to him without conscious thought, the need to comfort him overwhelming.

“I had no idea that you still played,” I whisper, not wanting to disturb this moment, this suspended time we are currently inhabiting.

I come to a stop next to him, my hands reaching out and running through his dark, silky hair, loving the feel of the strands as they move through my fingers.

“It’s not something that I can broadcast,” he tells me, his own voice quiet. He leans into my touch, resting his head on my stomach, his arms coming around my hips. His breath sendsshivers racing across my body, my nipples becoming hard points even though the room is warm. “My father, well, you’ve met him, does not approve of his son playing a musical instrument. Thinks music is for, and I quote, ‘queers and faggots.’” He practically spits the words, clearly disgusted by his father’s bigotry. “But fuck him.”

I smile at that.

“Yeah, fuck him,” I echo, smiling wider and feeling all kinds of warmth inside when a manly chuckle falls against my skin.

Lifting his head, he looks up at me.

“Can I play something for you?” he asks, biting his plush bottom lip as he studies me intently.

“I’d love that,” I tell him, heat radiating throughout my body at his soft expression and bright glossy eyes that shine in the darkness.

He smiles in return, his whole body relaxing. I start to turn, intending to sit on a nearby chair, when he stops me, his arms banding tighter. Looking back down, there’s a devilish glint in his eyes that I’m more used to seeing on Loki’s face.

This is either going to be really good...or really bad. Maybe both?

“Up here, Princess,” he orders, leaning back and releasing one of his arms, patting the top of the baby grand piano lovingly.

“What? No!” I exclaim, shaking my head and trying to take a step back.

Of course the wanktrumpet tightens his grip with the arm still around me.