Page 22 of Crush & Byte (Grim Road MC #9)

The eggs were indeed legendary. Fluffy, perfectly seasoned. I devoured mine with an enthusiasm that had both men smiling. I got the feeling neither man really smiled much. If I could amuse them enough for them to let it show, it was worth looking like a pig while I ate.

“Hungry?” Crush asked, amusement coloring his voice.

“Starving,” I admitted between bites, grinning shamelessly. “Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Byte choked on his coffee, and Crush’s slow smile was pure masculine satisfaction.

We bantered with each other all through breakfast, falling into an easy conversation.

But beneath my contentment, anxiety churned.

I needed to tell them what I wanted, what I was feeling, before I lost my nerve.

If they laughed at me or pitied me as the weird loner their grandmother threw at them, I’d be devastated, but it would be worse to not try.

Finally, I set my fork down, took a deep breath, and jumped in with both feet.

“I want to stay here. With you both.” The words tumbled out, clumsy and abrupt.

“Longer, I mean. Not forever, obviously, that would be crazy, but…” I trailed off, staring down at my plate.

“Even if it’s only sex, I want this time with you.

With both of you.” My voice had gone small, vulnerable, and I cursed myself for not finding a better way to say it.

The silence that followed felt eternal. I risked a glance up to find both men watching me with identical intense expressions.

“River,” Crush began, reaching across the table to take my hand in his. His palm was warm and calloused against mine. “Do you honestly think this is just about sex for us?”

I shrugged, suddenly feeling foolish. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s all happening so fast. I don’t want to assume --”

“Honey,” Byte interrupted, pushing back from the table. He moved to stand behind my chair, his hands coming to rest on my shoulders. “What part of ‘we want you to be ours’ didn’t you understand last night?”

Crush squeezed my hand. “We’re not going anywhere except where you are. And this --” he gestured between the three of us --”is about a hell of a lot more than just getting off.”

“Though we are definitely looking forward to the getting off part,” Byte added with a grin, his thumbs kneading the tense muscles at the base of my neck.

A laugh bubbled up, easing the knot of anxiety in my chest. “I am too,” I admitted, leaning back into Byte’s touch while keeping my hand in Crush’s.

“I’ve never done this before. Any of this.

I’m used to being alone, to leaving before things get complicated.

I’ve only had sex a couple of times and it wasn’t anything like what we did last night.

And we haven’t even really had sex yet.”

“You don’t have to run anymore, River. Not from us.” Crush’s gentle voice settled over me like a warm blanket. “Never from us.”

As I looked from Crush’s earnest face then over my shoulder to see Byte’s tender smile, something settled in my chest, that final piece of my heart clicking into place I hadn’t known I needed. For the first time in my life, leaving was the last thing I wanted to do.

“So we can stay?” I knew I was shit at hiding how I felt. Likely, both men could see hope blossom inside me.

“Yeah, baby. We can stay.” Crush squeezed my hand tightly.

“For as long as you want,” Byte added, bending to press a kiss to the top of my head.

“What about your obligations at home? Your club? What about Mrs. Walsh?”

“Maggie can take care of herself. Besides, once you left and she knew you were with us, she went back to pretending to need to stay in that assisted living place.”

“Huh?” His read on Maggie’s actions surprised me. “What do you mean pretending?”

Byte grinned, chuckling lightly. “She’s cute.” Was he referring to me or Mrs. Walsh?

“I know.” Crush grinned and shook his head. “Honey, Maggie is there because she likes it. No other reason. She likes the people there and she likes to take care of them by making sure the residents get the care they need. She runs that place from the inside on the down low. Trust me on this.”

I raised my eyebrows, nodding. “I’ll concede that. But what about your lives? Don’t you have jobs or something?”

“Anything we need to do we can do from here. Got portable Internet and a generator.” Byte lowered his mouth to my neck, grazing lightly with his lips. “And I’ve already let Lemon know we’re gonna be here a while. She’s anxious to meet you.”

“Who’s Lemon?”

“Our vice president,” Crush explained. “She and Rocket know everything up to this point.”

“Rocket’s our president and Lemon’s husband.

” Byte kissed my neck again before tugging me to my feet, sitting in my chair, then pulling me into his lap.

I tried to protest but didn’t mean it. It was what I thought I should do.

Byte ignored my protests and settled with his arms around me, and I simply snuggled against him.

I wasn’t naive enough to think this would be easy. Three people trying to build something together never could be. But sitting there, surrounded by their care and desire chipped away a little bit more at my reservations.

After the guys cleaned up the breakfast dishes -- I’d tried to help but had been overruled -- I took Byte’s hand, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The conversation earlier filled me with confidence I hadn’t expected.

Knowing they wanted me for more than just my body was more of a turn-on than I expected.

I tugged Byte toward the stairs, meeting his eyes with a boldness that seemed to surprise him.

“Come on,” I said, my voice steady despite the flutter in my stomach. “I want to show you something.”

“What’s that?” he asked, already following me, his fingers interlaced with mine.

“Me,” I answered simply.

I felt Crush’s gaze on us as we climbed the stairs, heard his chair scrape back as he rose to follow.

He kept his distance, giving us space while making it clear he wasn’t about to miss whatever was about to happen.

The knowledge that he would watch us sent a thrill down my spine, a shiver of anticipation that had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with desire.

The loft was bathed in late morning light, the rumpled bed still bearing the imprints of our bodies from earlier.

I led Byte to the edge of the mattress, pushing gently on his chest until he sat.

Then I stood between his spread knees, looking down at him with what I hoped was seductive confidence rather than nervous energy.

“I want you,” I told him, running my fingers through his dark hair. “And I want him to watch.”

Byte’s hands settled on my hips. “Whatever you want, honey.” His voice had dropped an octave, rough with desire. “You call the shots.”

I heard Crush enter the loft, crossing to the chair in the corner. He settled in with a creak of wood, his presence like a physical touch even from across the room. He was naked, lazily stroking his cock, his gaze sharp.

With deliberate slowness, I reached for the hem of Byte’s shirt, dragging it up his torso to reveal the lean muscles beneath. He raised his arms, allowing me to pull it over his head and toss it aside. I ran my hands down his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath my palm.

“You’re so beautiful,” I murmured, bending to press my lips to the hollow of his throat. His skin was warm, carrying a scent that was becoming familiar, uniquely Byte. A little like spice and cedar.

Byte’s breath hitched as I trailed my fingers lower, tracing the ridges of his abdomen, following the thin line of dark hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. I hooked my fingers in the elastic, looking up at him through my lashes.

“These too,” I said.

He lifted his hips, allowing me to slide his sweats down his legs.

His erection sprang free, thick and ready.

I couldn’t help but stare, appreciation mingled with a flutter of nervousness.

Last night had been about exploring. This was different.

This was my invitation for them to make good on their declarations they wanted me for themselves.

“Show him.” Crush’s deep voice came from across the room, making me jump slightly. I’d almost forgotten he was there, my focus squarely on Byte. “Show him how much you want him, River.”

The command in his tone sent heat pooling low in my belly. I met Byte’s eyes, finding them dark with desire, a question in their depths. In answer, I drew the shirt over my head, leaving me in only my underwear. Byte’s gaze traveled over me hungrily, his hands tightening on my hips.

“Christ, you’re perfect,” he breathed, leaning forward to press his mouth to my stomach.

His lips traced a path up between my breasts, to the sensitive spot just below my ear.

“I want to feel you wrapped around me,” he whispered, his breath hot against my skin.

The possessiveness in his voice surprised me.

Also surprised me how much I liked him being proprietary.

Also stirred my own longing for everything they were dangling in front of me.

“You’re mine.” I lifted my chin, daring him to deny me what I wanted with all my fucking heart. “Both of you.”

His grip tightened on my hips, fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to leave marks. “Yes,” he agreed, pulling back to look at me. “I’m all yours, River. And you’re ours.”

The intensity in his gaze surprised me. Byte might be the more laid back of the brothers, but there was nothing casual about the way he looked at me now, nothing playful in the set of his jaw or the heat in his eyes.

“Take those off,” Crush instructed from his chair, nodding at my underwear. “Let him see everything we’ve claimed.”