Page 17

“Hi, Dad.”

“Ally.” His voice is sharp, tight with barely restrained frustration. “Tell me where you are.”

Not are you okay? Not why didn’t you check in? Just straight to the point, the way he always is when he’s barely holding on.

“I’m fine, Dad.” I shift the phone to my ear, aware of how both Hank and Gabe have paused, listening. “Better than fine, actually.”

“You need to come home, Allycat.”

The old nickname makes my throat tight. His voice has lost that commanding edge, the one that used to make prime ministers squirm. Now, he just sounds tired.

And worried.

I exhale slowly, bracing for the argument to come.

“I don’t want to. I’m right where I want to be.”

“You need to be home. Where you’re safe.”

“I’m safe here. Safer than I’d be anywhere else.”

A long pause. The kind that means my father is choosing his words carefully. “I suppose you are.” Another pause. “But …”

“They’re good men,” I respond .

“Do I want to ask?” Hesitation threads through my father’s voice, making me smile.

“You probably shouldn’t.” I bite back a laugh as Gabe winks at me from the stove. “Better for your mental health.”

Instead of asking the obvious, he shifts gears, trying to work a different angle to get me to come home.

“Your thesis defense, Allycat—” The worry creeps into his voice. “You’ve barely touched it since …”

“Dr. Whittman told me to take time off. He’s still recovering himself, and—” I break off as Hank makes it his mission to distract me. He leans in and presses a playful kiss to my neck, making me squirm.

“I’m trying to have a serious conversation,” I whisper, covering the phone.

He grins, unrepentant. “So am I.”

My father’s voice draws me back. “At least come home and pick up some of your things. Your medication. Clothes.” A pause. “Unless you’d rather I send Harrison with a car.”

The offer surprises me. It’s almost… accommodating.

“Actually,” I say slowly, “that would be helpful.”

“I’ll send him right away. And Ally?” My father sounds relieved.

“Yes?”

“I’d like to see you. Even if it’s just for a little while.”

Naked concern in his voice makes my chest tighten. He nearly lost me. Twice. And now I’m pulling away again, though in a different way.

“Okay,” I agree. “I’ll come. But just to pack some things.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” he says, though we both know it isn’t.

After I hang up, Hank and Gabe exchange a look that contains an entire conversation.

“You’re going home?” Gabe asks.

“Just to get some clothes and… talk to my dad.” I twist my fingers in the hem of Hank’s shirt. “I should have some things here… if I’m staying.”

“If?” Hank’s voice carries a hint of challenge. “Luv, you’re ours now, which means this is where you live.”

“Yes, Sir.” I wink, knowing precisely what those two little words do to him.

Their expressions darken simultaneously, a subtle shift that makes something warm unfurl in my chest.

“We’re going with you,” Hank declares, decision already made. Final.

I shake my head. “Not a good idea. My father will be… difficult enough just with me. Adding you two to the mix?”

“We don’t like you going alone,” Gabe counters, sliding the plate in front of me. “Not after everything.”

“I’m not going alone. Harrison will be there—he’s been with my father for years.” I take a bite of Gabe’s sandwich, humming with appreciation. “Besides, I need to set some boundaries with my father. I’m not his little girl anymore.”

“That’s right,” Gabe says. “You’re our woman.”

They don’t like it. The set of Hank’s jaw, the tension in the line of Gabe’s shoulders, tell me everything. But they don’t argue.

“A few hours,” Hank finally concedes. “Then you come back to us.”

It’s not a question, and I don’t treat it like one.

“I will.”

I exhale slowly, trying to savor the moment, the quiet understanding between us, but something tugs at the edges of my mind—an unfinished thought, a missing piece. My fingers toy with the edge of my napkin, and I lower my gaze.

“Um…” I clear my throat, unsure how to bring it up. “About my USB…”

Gabe lifts a brow, interest sparking in his eyes. Hank leans back, arms crossing over his broad chest, watching me with that quiet, assessing gaze that makes me feel like he’s peeling me open piece by piece.

“You said you found it, but I haven’t… I mean, I haven’t seen it.” My voice is thinner than I intend, betraying how much this matters. I glance between them, fidgeting.

Hank tilts his head, considering me. “That little USB means a lot to you, doesn’t it? ”

I nod quickly, heat creeping up my neck. “It’s—” I stop and exhale sharply, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “It has everything. My thesis, my research. Years of work, late nights, revisions, data. I don’t have it backed up anywhere else.”

Gabe lets out a low whistle. “Then why did you leave it behind?”

I bristle at his teasing tone. “I was a little distracted.”

The words come out sharper than I intend, but they’re covering something deeper—something that still lingers in the edges of my mind.

Because I remember why I was distracted.

The plane. The shower. The way I shut down, my body exhausted, my mind tangled in knots. I hadn’t realized how much I was holding in, how the weight of everything pressed so hard against my ribs that I couldn’t breathe.

And then they were there.

Hank had been the first to move, his touch firm but careful as he guided me into the shower. Gabe followed, not saying much, but the look in his eyes said everything— we’ve got you. The warm water sluiced over my skin, but the heat didn’t anchor me. It was their hands, their voices, and the quiet, tender way they washed me.

Hank worked shampoo through my hair, his fingers strong but gentle against my scalp, massaging in slow, grounding strokes. Gabe knelt, running soapy hands down my legs, smoothing over every inch of me like I was something fragile, something to be handled rather than just touched. They didn’t push, didn’t expect anything from me in return.

By the time they wrapped me in a thick towel, I felt safe. Held. And then I slept—deeply, completely—the kind of sleep I hadn’t had in years.

Standing here and looking at them, I realize how much that moment meant.

I exhale, some of the tension slipping from my shoulders. “I was really distracted.” My voice is softer this time, laced with something else.

Something they seem to recognize because Gabe’s smirk fades just a little, his fingers grazing my arm. Hank watches me, unreadable, but there’s something warm in his expression, something knowing.

“Yeah, luv,” Hank murmurs, his voice dipping low. “We know.”

And somehow, that makes my relief even sweeter.

His lazy smile is all slow amusement, but something softens in his eyes, like he sees me, sees how my shoulders have tightened and how I’m gripping the napkin like a lifeline.

Hank nods once, standing smoothly. He walks toward a nearby drawer. “You should’ve said something sooner, luv.”

I track his movements, my pulse kicking up. “So you do have it?”

Hank opens a drawer and retrieves a small, familiar black USB drive. He turns, holding it up between two fingers. “Of course.”

Relief slams into me so hard I have to press a hand to my chest. “Oh my God.” I push off the stool, reaching for it, but Hank doesn’t give it to me immediately.

Instead, he studies me, his sharp blue eyes narrowing just slightly. “This is that important to you?”

I nod, stomach twisting, my fingers itching to snatch it away. “Yes.”

Gabe hums from behind me, his hand brushing the small of my back. “I think she owes us a proper thank you for retrieving it. We did have to dig through all the trash to find it.”

My breath catches as Hank’s lips curve into something slow and knowing.

Gabe’s fingers slide along my spine, featherlight. “We’ve got just enough time for a proper thank you before your ride gets here.”

A different kind of heat spreads through me, my nerves twisting into anticipation.

My USB is safe.

And now, they’re going to make me earn it.

Gabe’s eyes gleam with something wicked, something unmistakable.

“If you want to reward us for our good deed…” He sets a mug down, lazy and deliberate, his smirk deepening. “I’m sure we could work something out. ”

Hank chuckles, low and knowing, his gaze sweeping over me like he already has plans.

I narrow my eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“You love it,” Gabe quips, his grin all sharp edges and knowing amusement.

I roll my eyes, but my lips betray me with a small smile, and I shake my head, a fond smile playing on my lips despite myself. “I do.”

Gabe’s hand finds the small of my back, warm through the thin fabric of Hank’s shirt.

Hank comes to stand on my other side. The two of them are like bookends, framing me in their presence, a comfortable, possessive weight.

“So,” Gabe says, his voice dropping, a husky murmur close to my ear. “About that reward…”

My breath hitches. The air in the kitchen thickens, charged with unspoken promises. I glance up at Hank; his eyes are already dark, pupils blown wide and fixed on me. A slow burn starts low in my stomach, spreading outwards.

“What did you have in mind?” I ask, my voice a little breathy, a little daring.

Gabe’s fingers tighten slightly on my back, pulling me closer. “Well, we did retrieve something very precious to you.” He lets the implication hang in the air, heavy with double meaning.

Hank steps closer, reaching out to thread his fingers through my hair. I tilt my head back just enough to expose the sensitive skin of my throat. “We were very good, luv, and deserve to be rewarded properly.” His voice is a low rumble against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

I flick my gaze between them, heat pooling in my core. “And what would be a proper reward?” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

Gabe’s smirk widens. He leans down, his lips brushing my ear, sending a jolt of electricity through me. “For starters…” He nips at my lobe, then pulls back just enough to whisper, “You could take off that shirt.”

My breath catches. The casual command, the blatant hunger in his eyes, are intoxicating. I’m wearing Hank’s shirt, nothing else. The fabric is soft against my skin, a constant reminder of their presence, their claim. And the idea of shedding it now, here, for them…

Hank’s thumb traces the line of my jaw, his touch sending sparks dancing across my skin. “Unless you’re going to be difficult, luv?” There’s that edge again, the playful threat that thrills me.

“Difficult?” I repeat, my voice a husky whisper.

Gabe chuckles, a low sound that vibrates against my back. “Or maybe you’d rather we just took it off for you?”

The thought flashes through my mind, vivid and hot—their hands on me, stripping away the last barrier, exposing me to their gaze, their touch. My pulse quickens, anticipation tightening its grip.

“Maybe,” I breathe, tilting my head back further, offering myself to them.

Hank’s grin is predatory. He steps closer, his body heat enveloping me. His hand slides down from my neck, tracing the curve of my shoulder, then lower, down my arm, until his fingers brush against the hem of the shirt resting high on my thigh.

Gabe mirrors him on my other side, his hand moving from my back to my hip, his fingers splaying out, possessive and firm. He tugs gently, a silent question.

My breath hitches again, trapped between my lungs and my throat. The shirt feels suddenly too heavy and restricting. I want to feel their hands on my skin, their mouths, and their bodies pressed against mine.

I tremble as they reach for the hem of the shirt, lifting it slowly and deliberately, drawing it up my thighs past my hips, inch by tantalizing inch. Their gazes are fixed on me, burning with a hunger that mirrors my rising desire.

As the shirt clears my breasts, my breathing turns shallow. My nipples are already tight, aching for their touch. I meet Hank’s eyes, then Gabe’s, and in their mirrored intensity, I see the reflection of my own need, raw and undeniable.

With a final, slow exhale, they pull the shirt over my head, letting it drop to the floor at my feet.

The kitchen air suddenly feels cooler on my bare skin, but their gazes are like physical heat, warming and consuming me. They step closer, closing the small space between us, their bodies pressing against mine.

Gabe’s hands cup my breasts, his thumbs teasing over my nipples, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through me. Hank’s hands slide around my waist, pulling me tighter against him, his hardness pressing against my lower back.

“Beautiful,” Hank murmurs, his voice thick with desire. He lowers his head, his lips finding the sensitive skin of my neck, his teeth nipping, sucking, sending shivers of delight down my spine.

Gabe’s mouth finds mine, his kiss urgent, demanding, tasting of coffee and something else, something wild and untamed that sets my blood on fire. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, tangling with mine, a hungry dance that leaves me breathless and wanting more.

Their hands are everywhere, exploring, claiming, igniting every nerve ending. Hank’s mouth trails down my neck, across my collarbone, to my breast, where he takes a nipple into his mouth, suckling hard, drawing a moan from deep within me. Gabe’s hand slides down my stomach, his fingers finding the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.

I gasp, arching into his touch, my body singing with need. Their combined attention is overwhelming, exhilarating, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

“Easy, luv,” Hank murmurs against my breast, his voice a low growl. “We’ve got all morning.”

“We’ve got less than an hour,” I breathe out, desperate. I don’t want easy. I want frantic, urgent, and consuming. I want to be lost in the sensation, lost in them.

I reach for Gabe, pulling him closer, deepening our kiss, my fingers tangling in his hair. I press myself against Hank, seeking more of his heat, his hardness.

The kitchen fades away, the world narrowing to the feel of their skin against mine, the taste of their mouths, the intoxicating scent of them filling my senses. Hunger is all I know, the need to be consumed by them, to lose myself in their embrace.