Page 155 of Pretty Broken Wings

Axel watches us with a bored expression.

“Help,” I gasp, trying to claw my way out of Gage’s grip.

Axel winks at me. “Why? Watching you struggle is way more fun.”

I growl, making Gage chuckle behind me. “Okay, time to pay the tax.” He reaches to the side table where the book lies.

“The tax for existing?” I struggle now that he’s only holding me with one arm, but it’s like fighting with a large, meaty seatbelt.

“The tax for having such a sexy voice,” Gage says into my ear.

Heat crawls across my skin, and I huff, but I stop struggling.

“Atta girl.” He drops the book in my lap. “Read.”

I glance at Axel, who just watches with a mildly curious look.

“You deserved the milk in your couch,” I mutter. “You’re insufferable.”

“Milk? In my couch?”

I freeze. Oh fuck. I forgot Axel knew and kinda assumed he told Gage.

“Did you spill something?” Gage asks. He doesn’t sound mad, just curious.

“Yeah. On purpose,” Axel laughs.

When I don’t respond, Gage grips me harder. Then his nose hits my neck, and he pulls in a breath. “Fuck, princess,” he grumbles out in a dark laugh.

I squirm, but it only serves to make me feel just how hard Gage is under me. That sends a rush of blood to my pussy.

“Read,” Gage demands in my ear.

As much as I hate being told what to do, coming from Gage, it doesn’t feel scary. Plus, it’s hard to argue with the seatbelt tucked firmly around my body. So, reluctantly, I start reading.

There’s a comfort that settles into the room. Axel stays even though he must be lost. I read more until my eyes get heavy. A few times, we shuffle around, Gage brings me a blanket, andAxel brings me a drink. I read until I’m pretty sure Axel passes out, and my eyes grow heavy.

Then, I’m woken by a jostle of movement. It’s Gage, lifting me into his arms.

“What are you doing?” I mutter.

“Shhh. Just drool on my shoulder and go back to sleep.”

I should wake up more, but I don’t want to. Instead, I settle into his shoulder. Feeling something drop away, I realize my blanket has fallen off.

Distantly, I hear Gage say, “Ax, bring that?”

Gage is warm. He’s like a furnace. A comfortable, muscly furnace. And when he tries to drop me off in my bed and take that heat away, I reach my arms out.

For a second, I think he’s gonna go, and I wake up a little more, clutching him to me. I don’t want him to go, and I’m afraid he will.

There’s a pause, and then he settles in next to me. I burrow down, creating a new cocoon of warmth.

I feel movement on my other side, and then Gage’s voice says, “Ax is here too. You okay?”

Why the hell is he trying to wake me up? I just mutter. Something tells me I should be scared. That they could hurt me.

But Gage asked if I was okay. I’m in control here. They aren’t doing anything I haven’t asked them not to do.