Page 17 of Quadruplets for the Vipers (Never Just One #3)

Knox

I don’t sleep. My mind is filled with thoughts of Leah.

What did those men want with her? If they were there to harm her simply because I reacted so violently against them, then it’s all my fault.

However, the logical part of me realizes that, given their connection with the Hellhounds, their visit was likely far more sinister.

As much as I’m pissed with Axel for sleeping with her—doing the one thing he forbade us from doing and taking advantage of her while she’s in a vulnerable state emotionally—I’m grateful that he was there to protect her.

I know my anger toward Axel is more directed at myself.

I’m frustrated that I wasn’t the one to protect Leah and if I’m being honest, I’m a little jealous that she chose Axel.

Not that she’d want anything to do with me after the way I’ve treated her.

I blamed her for Donna and Zeus’ deaths.

It would be so much easier if I could still feel anger toward her, but instead, I have this burning desire to protect her, to be near her, and I know it comes from more than just wanting to protect my adoptive parents’ grandchild.

I think of her upstairs in my bed as I lie there on the couch, staring at the ceiling. Is she sleeping, or is she also lying awake, worrying about what the future holds?

With Axel having hooked up with her, Leah is now more off-limits than ever.

Sure, we share women, but Leah doesn’t seem like that kind of girl.

I just hope Axel doesn’t see her as just another chick.

Though, given how he broke his own rule for her and the way he looks at her, I can tell he’s as smitten with her as I am.

I should back off. My brother deserves this, deserves her, and she deserves better than me, yet I can’t stop thinking about her.

I picture what it would be like to hold her and kiss her.

To be looked at the way she looks at Axel.

I imagine what having sex with her would be like, and I can feel myself growing hard.

I know that Rider and Axel won’t be back home for hours and Jace is asleep, so there’s no chance of anyone walking in on me, and the house is silent.

So, unable to get her out of my head and hoping I can relieve some of the tension I feel, I touch myself.

My hand strokes a familiar path as I think of Leah.

My thick cock is painfully straining in my hand as I try to find release.

Somewhat satisfied but nowhere near satiated, I clean myself up and head to the kitchen to make myself a coffee.

I’m careful to move as quietly as I can. I’ve no concerns about waking Jace, the man sleeps like the dead; he didn’t even hear the gunshots earlier, we had to shake him awake, but if Leah has found some peace in sleep, then the last thing I want to do is wake her.

Although the sun has risen, it’s still early.

The majority of the club members who live in our little community aren’t early risers, especially not after last night.

Those who heard the gunshots and came to help went back to bed and likely won’t be up until late, so I enjoy the peace and quiet.

I’m standing, drinking my coffee, and gazing out of the window at the deserted street when I hear it.

A cry of terror.

Leah.

Immediately, I race upstairs to where Leah is sleeping. How could someone have gotten past me?

I burst through the door, gun drawn, only to find the room empty. Leah’s asleep, tossing and turning, the covers thrown aside to reveal a pale leg, her hair disheveled, and her brow furrowed as she’s lost in a nightmare.

I perch on the bed beside her, gently shaking her shoulder. “Leah, wake up, you’re having a bad dream,” I whisper soothingly.

I don’t want to startle or scare her more with my presence, but I can’t leave her like this either.

“Knox?”

She’s confused and sleepy, but unafraid of my presence, which is a relief. Seeing her like this in my bed is not an unwelcome sight, and I try to push down the images it evokes, picturing what it would be like to wake up beside her every day.

“You were having a nightmare,” I explain again.

“I can’t get the sight of him out of my head.”

She doesn’t need to tell me what sight she’s referring to. The sight of a man with his head blown off isn’t one you easily forget. Reflexively, I brush away a tear from her cheek. An intimate gesture, one I’ve no right to, yet she doesn’t reprimand me for it.

“The nightmares will stop, in time.”

A white lie that I’m not sure I believe.

The faces of the men I’ve killed and friends who have died in combat are seared into my brain.

Though the nightmares are less frequent, I don’t know if they’ll ever go away.

It does get easier, the burden is a little lighter with time.

Though now the stars of my nightmares are Zeus and Donna, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forget the sight of their bodies, of Donna dying in my arms. Now, I’d take the combat nightmares back if I could.

She nods trustingly. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t.”

As if she can read my mind, Leah asks, “Have you been having them? Bad dreams about Donna and Zeus?”

“Yes.”

Leah looks so beautiful and trusting right now.

I know I should leave now that I know she’s okay, but I remain rooted to the spot.

I have the burning urge to take her in my arms and kiss her.

We both seem to become aware of the intimacy of the situation at the same time.

I’m wearing only a pair of sweatpants, my torso bare, and Leah is similarly scantily clad in her thin nightgown.

She makes no move to cover herself, nor does she move away from me.

Her gaze drops to my chest, and her breath hitches slightly before she quickly looks away.

“I should let you go back to sleep,” I say, though I don’t move.

“I don’t think I can sleep anymore.”

Is that an invitation to stay? Or simply conversation?

I can usually pick up on women’s signals and tell if they feel the same way as me, but with Leah, I can’t think straight.

Some part of me thinks I can’t be imagining the chemistry between us, the charged air, but the last thing I want to do is make her feel uncomfortable.

“How do you distract yourself from thinking about them? How do you cope with the nightmares?” she asks me gently.

“I’m not sure I have been. I’ve been getting drunk, but that isn’t an option for you. And my past distraction of sex isn’t an option for me.”

“That’s not true,” she snorts. “There are heaps of women who regularly throw themselves at you.”

“Not the one I want.”

“Well, then, either she’s crazy or you’ve not made a move, and she doesn’t know how you feel.”

Leah’s hazel eyes meet mine, and I try to decipher if she’s issuing a challenge or genuinely doesn’t know how I feel. Either way, I decide to seize the moment and show her. Axel practically told me earlier that he wouldn’t mind if I made a move. Leah wouldn’t be the first woman we’ve shared.

Cupping her chin in my hand, I lean closer. She blinks in surprise, her lips parting slightly, but she doesn’t pull away. I do what I’ve wanted from the moment I met her, I kiss her.

There’s a moment of hesitation, and I panic that I’ve read the signals all wrong, that she’s about to push me away and ask what the fuck I’m doing, but then she kisses me back.

Kissing Leah feels so right, as natural as breathing.

I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her closer, feeling the warmth of her body, savoring the smell of her skin, the taste of her.

She pulls me closer, kissing me back passionately, and I know that the attraction isn’t one-sided, that she feels something too.

The sound of Rider and Axel returning breaks the spell between us, and we spring apart guiltily. Leah is somehow even more gorgeous with her lips plump from our kiss, and it takes every ounce of my self-control not to kiss her again.

“I should go speak to them and see if they found out anything.”

Leah nods but doesn’t speak, her mind elsewhere as she puzzles over what just happened.

I’ve opened a can of worms and made this already strange and complicated situation even more confused, yet I don’t regret it. Now I just have to hope Axel is truly willing to share, if that’s what Leah wants, of course. You don’t give up on a woman like Leah.