Page 230 of Hymns of the Broken

Now it’s late afternoon, and they’re all standing in the driveway, sun beating down, everyone yawning and stretching after a day spent wrangling Riot’s vinyl collection. Macee hugs Sawyer so hard she squeaks.

Silas offers, “I’ll go get the truck cleaned out since I’m taking you to the airport,” and Macee grins, waving off any protest as she links arms with Sawyer and heads to get her bags.

I follow, grabbing Silas’s jacket and tossing it his way. He gives me that look—older brother mode engaged, sharp but softer than it used to be.

On the way to the truck, he clears his throat. “So, you did it. Never thought I’d see the day you’d share a house, let alone with two other people. Sawyer’s good for you, you know that?”

I can’t help but smile. “Yeah. I know.”

He leans against the truck, arms folded. “You’re different, man. Calmer. Almost normal, if you don’t count the throuple thing.”

I choke, laugh, androll my eyes. “Shut the fuck up, Silas. I did it for Sawyer.”

He grins, not letting up. “I’m serious. It’s good, though. And I’m not judging. Far as I’m concerned, you deserve to be happy. Both of you do. All three, I guess.” He smirks. “But if you and Riot start wearing matching pajamas, I’m calling Dr. Phil.”

I snort. “Yeah, well,he’salready trying to move in on my side of the bed.”

Silas laughs, a deep, sound I haven’t heard in a long time. “I mean it, Jas. I’m proud of you. Didn’t think you had it in you, honestly. She’s a force of nature. And somehow you’re less of an asshole with her around.”

I elbow him, and he elbows me back, just like when we were kids.

Then I cock my head, lowering my voice. “What about you and Macee, huh? Offering her a ride after she had already ordered an Uber?” I wiggle my eyebrows at him. “Anything going on there?”

Silas snorts, but there’s a smile he tries—and fails—to hide. “Get in the house, Little Brother. Don’t you have some polyamorous nesting to do?”

I laugh, flipping him off as I head inside, warmth blooming in my chest. For the first time in forever, itactuallyfeels like home.

SAWYER

The guys have been impossible all day. Every time Macee turned her back or Silas ducked into another room, it was like a silent competition of who could get me worked up the most. Riot slid his palm up the inside of my thigh under the kitchen table, and said something about fucking me over his drum set. Jasper caught me alone in the hallway, and pinned me against the wall with his body, and whispered all the filthy things he’d do to me once we had the house to ourselves again. Fingers on my waist, teeth at my ear, breath hot against my skin—every little touch winding me tighter.

By the time Silas and Macee left, I was barely holding it together. My skin tingles everywhere they touched me, memories replaying like a fever. Now, the house is finally quiet—just me, my racing thoughts, and a low thrum of need that refuses to fade.

I stand in the middle of Jasper’s—no,our—bedroom, glancing at the pile of moving boxes the guys promised to haul out. Their laughter still echoes in the halls even though they’re gone. I almost expect to turn around and find them watching me, already plotting what to do next.

I cross to the mirror, stripping off my shorts and shirt. I leave my bra and panties on—black lace, new, a little treat for myself. My nipples are already tight, heat pooling between my thighs. I run my hands up my body, trying to slow my breathing, but it’s pointless. My mind is a reel of their hands, their voices, their rough, filthy promises.

I slide a hand between my legs, already soaked, pressing just enough to take the edge off. I close my eyes and let myself imagine them—Riot’s mouth hot and greedy, Jasper’s hands everywhere, both of them pinning me down and making me beg.

God, they’ve fucking ruined me.

My breathing turns ragged, chest rising and falling as I tease myself, hips rolling against my palm. I imagine Jasper on his knees behind me, spreading me open, that dangerous growl in his throat. Riot’s teeth at my neck, his hand sliding over my breast, pinching just hard enough to hurt. I whimper, grinding down harder, trying to remember every word they whispered in my ear, every filthy threat.

I drop to the edge of the bed, legs parted, bra pushed up, panties already soaked through. My fingers slip under the lace, stroking my clit, two fingers dipping inside me, slow at first, then faster. I bite my lip to keep quiet, but a broken moan escapes, anyway.

I let my head fall back, the room spinning with heat and want. “Fuck…” I whisper, wishing it were their hands, their mouths. I arch off the bed, chasing that sharp, perfect edge—so close, so fucking close—

“Jesus Christ, Trouble.” I whip my head up, wide-eyed, to see them both in the doorway, staring at me like they’ve just found the best surprise of their lives.

Riot grins, teeth flashing. “Really couldn’t wait, huh? You know we were only gone—what—twenty minutes?”

I try to close my legs, but Jasper’s already across the room, kneeling between my knees, prying them open again. “No, none of that. Let’s see how desperate you are.”

Riot drops his boxes on the floor, stalking over, eyes glued to where my fingers are still slick and glistening between my thighs. He grabs my wrist, brings my fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean.

“You wanna cum that bad, Angel?” he teases, voice pure sin. “Couldn’t wait for your boys to get home?”

I’m blushing, but there’s no hiding the need written all over me. “You two drove me insane all day. I—I couldn’t help it.”