Page 3 of Craving Consequences

LACHLAN

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“What do you mean he hurt you?” Each word is shredded through gritted teeth as I fight to control the pulse of red distorting my vision.

“Please don’t be mad,” she chokes out. “I know it’s boys’ night and I shouldn’t be here, but I ... I needed you. I just ... I didn’t want to be alone.” She turns frantic eyes to Van whose face is a thundercloud of barely suppressed fury. “I won’t do it again.”

I stop thinking of everything but the tremors coursing through her. The short little pants of air she’s barely controlling. While the need to push her, to demand answers burns at the back of my throat, I force it all down.

“Hey,” I skim her damp cheek with my knuckles, “no one’s mad, sweetheart. You are always welcome anywhere we are.”

She sniffles. The sound devastating. “Really?”

“Always,” Van promises. “Just not here. Understand? You can’t come here alone.”

She licks soft, pink lips and peers up at him. “ I won’t.”

He grazes the hill of her cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. “Good girl.” The digit brushes down to dust the curve of her bottom lip. “Now, tell me what he did to you.”

It doesn’t elude me that I should probably intervene.

Bron is still my kid and as his dad it’s my job to protect him from whatever punishment Van may be formulating.

But Van isn’t the problem here. He’s not the one Bron will have to worry about if he hurt Everly.

My tolerance for abusing women is nonexistent.

Son or not, Everly or not, I will never stand by and allow a grown man to abuse a woman no matter who she is.

The fact that it’s Everly only increases the brewing storm building in my chest.

But Everly has her lips sucked inward, sealed shut tight as she peers up at Van. She gives a slight shake of her head.

“Did he put his hands on you?” I demand, in no mood for games.

Again, she shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter.” She exhales heavily. “I needed to get away from him and you’re my safe place. So, I came here.”

I can’t fault the way Van softens. The way his shoulders sag and he looks at her like she personally hung the stars. I can’t judge his weakness when my chest holds the gooey mess of what once was my heart.

I can say with all the honesty in my soul that I saw Everly first. That I fell for her first. That if she should belong to anyone, it should be me, but I don’t hate the way he’s touching her face.

I’m not envious of her turning her face into his palm.

I’m not at all unsettled by the fact that he hasn’t pulled away from her.

That his clasped hands at her back are digging into my chest. We are as intimately fused as two straight men can get and I’m not freaked out.

I probably should be. Maybe it’s the dreamy haze of it all. The surrealism of having Everly in my arms, but I’m incapable of breaking this moment no matter how strange it is.

“You should have called. We would have come back,” he tells her gently.

Her head rocks side to side on my shoulder. “Not in Jefferson. What I wanted...” she blows out another breath. “I couldn’t in Jefferson. People would know and ... they always know.”

Against my better judgment, I lift my gaze to the other man. His confusion makes me feel a little better.

“What did you want, Everly?” I ask even though I know I shouldn’t; drunk Everly is dangerous. Unpredictable chaos.

She’s quiet, but the red tint crawling up her chest to fill her cheeks is unmistakable even in the dim light.

The firm curves of her breasts rise and fall rapidly beneath the flimsy scrap of fabric barely covering her.

They practically spill free with every harsh breath.

I’m almost hypnotized by the sight of them, barely able to focus when she speaks so softly, even Van has to lean in .

“You to fuck me.” Head still propped against my shoulder, she tips her face to mine.

Her vodka-soaked breath brushes my lips.

Lips that feel weirdly numb and alive all at the same time.

“I don’t want to be a virgin anymore. I don’t want Bron or anyone else to be my first. I’m tired of playing with myself alone and want—”

“Fuck, baby, you need to stop talking.” Van cuts her off before she shovels the last bit of dirt on our graves.

“Will you?”

The cock swelling against her lower spine is all too happy to give her anything she asks. There isn’t an ounce of restraint in its excitement even while my brain is a scrambling monkey trying to put fires out.

“Will we fuck you?” Van asks. The fucking idiot.

I don’t know if he’s intentionally trying to get her to speak the words out loud or if he just didn’t hear her and needs confirmation, but I could kick him when Everly bobs her head and politely whispers, “Yes, please.” Like she’d been offered fries with her burger.

A muscle flexes in my friend’s cheek that reflects his control when his fingers close into the exposed arch of her pretty throat. Five fingers of power that have Everly’s lips parting in a soft gasp.

“Such a good girl,” he growls in a low, throaty rasp that has Everly melting into my chest. Her soft moan fills my ears and my cock, and the damn thing pulses, head cutting into the zipper of my jeans.

I am fully aware I should tell him to stop that. I know there are a million reasons he can’t be talking to her like that, but I can’t brain. How can it function when it’s stuck on a single fact it refuses to bypass.

“How are you a virgin? You and Bron have been dating for two years.”

Probably not the sexiest question, or necessary when there are so many more important things I could be focusing on, but it falls into the sliver of space between us and I have Everly’s attention.

“He doesn’t want me,” she murmurs. “I tried. In the beginning.” I’m not oblivious to the hungry lock of her gaze on my mouth, or mine on hers .

.. to hear her clearly, obviously. “I was never good enough.” Her features slip into one of dejection.

“I’m good enough to buy him a car. To pay his bills.

To send him to Cuba with his friends for a week, but not good enough to touch.

To take on dates. To hang out with him and his friends.

” A tear cuts down her cheek despite the flat range of her tone.

“I’m a sugar daddy who isn’t getting sugar. ”

I stop her before she can continue, before she loses her train of thought.

“What did you say?”

She blinks slowly. “I’m a sugar daddy— ”

“No. Before that. Did you say you paid for Bron’s trip to Cuba?”

She seems momentarily confused while staring up into my face like I’m making up words.

“How did you know? Did he tell you?” she pauses, brows scrunching.

“He made me swear not to tell anyone. I didn’t mind at first because he promised to pay me back.

I got my parent’s insurance money so I didn’t mind helping, but he’d only get mad when I brought it up and . .. I let it go. It’s only money.”

I like to think I’m a fairly smart man. Observant. Rational enough to fill in all the things she’s not saying.

He’s been using her. For two years, he took the sweetest, kindest soul and stole from her, and I allowed it.

True, they are both fully grown adults capable of their own choices, but Everly loves so completely. She’s warm and accepting of everyone. She’s generous to a fault, and my son abused that generosity for his own end.

And I had no idea.

I listened to his lies when he claimed his car was a lease. I believed him when he said his friend won an all-expenses trip to Cuba. I never questioned how he was living because he’s an adult with a job. He doesn’t answer to me. I have no right to be in his business.

“We should go,” I mutter, needing to be alone to think, to assess. To face my kid without punching him in the mouth .

Everly’s face crumples with the slumping of her shoulders. “Are you mad at me?”

Fuck propriety, I cup her chin and brush my thumb along the bottom fold of her puckered lip.

“No, sweetheart. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Then why does it feel like it’s all my fault?”

I let my fingers skim along her cheek to sweep a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Not your fault. It’s mine.”

Her head pops up. It’s so fast, we nearly lose our hold on her. Her big eyes are wide with panic as she twists to face me, giving Van her back.

“No! No, you didn’t do anything.”

“I did. I let him hurt you.”

Her face dips, bringing her brow to my chin. I kiss it. I don’t mean to. It’s just instinct but I don’t regret it.

“You’re wrong.” She draws in a weighted breath that lifts and presses her tits to my chest. “You and Mr. Weaver have made me feel safe and loved. You took care of me when I was alone. You gave me a family when I didn’t have one.

I’ve loved you both for so ... so long. Even when I shouldn’t have.

Even when Bron accused me of wanting you and I said no, I did. I love you. ”

Her confession slices through me. It carves gashes into my already tattered emotions, leaving behind a mess of confusion I can’t sift through.

“Everly.”

My soft plea is ignored.

“That’s why he did it. He knows how badly I want you both. He wanted to punish me. I thought I was careful not to show it, but...”

A deep, guttural moan escapes her with the yank of Van’s hand fisted in her hair. His lips brush her ear.

“You need to stop talking, Everly.”

Her big, dark eyes meet his. “I’m sorry.” The sweep of her tongue across her lips is shaky. “I know I shouldn’t be telling you this. It’s so wrong and if you don’t feel the same I might just die, but you both smell so good and I can feel your cocks and I think you want me, too...”

The appendage in question throbs. It presses harder into the soft flesh of her belly and I’m fully aware of her shifting hips pushing back into Van’s crotch.

“You’re drunk,” I bite out, reminding myself. Reminding Van.

She faces me. It takes her a long, slow blink to bring me into focus but she does with a tiny grin.