Page 20

The dark and rich scent of coffee drifts down the hall, mingling with the salt air rolling in from the balcony. I stretch under the sheets, my body deliciously sore, muscles aching in ways that remind me of everything that happened last night.

I roll onto my side. The bed is warm but empty, the faint dips in the mattress beside me the only sign that Hank and Gabe were here.

Gabe was right about me being sore. The memory brings a smile to my face.

It still surprises me how quickly I’ve fallen into this—whatever this is. Two days. That’s all it’s been, yet it feels like we’ve known each other for years. It feels so natural, so easy to surrender to their care and meet their demands for sex. It should frighten me how readily I’ve given myself over to this dynamic, but instead, there’s something… cherished. Seen in a way I’ve never experienced before.

I force myself upright. Somewhere in the condo, cabinets open and close, and the low murmur of voices drifts toward me. The steady whoosh of waves crashing against the rocky shore below filters through the open balcony doors, and the salty air is thick with morning chill.

I drag myself out of bed, tugging one of Gabe’s discarded shirts over my head. It swallows me, the fabric soft and worn, the hem brushing the tops of my thighs. Voices filter down the hall—low, masculine rumbles, followed by the occasional clatter of dishes.

I pause at the door, curiosity prickling.

It would be easy to step into the kitchen and make my presence known, but something stops me.

Gabe hums, and I hear the distinct clink of his coffee cup meeting the counter. “So what’s the plan?” His voice—smooth, deep, teasing. “We gotta show for work eventually.”

“We call in,” Hank mutters. “Stay here. Look after her.”

“We’ve already called in twice. Ethan’s not going to buy it again.” Another sip, another clink. “He knows exactly what’s going on.”

“Only because you were too damn obvious about it,” Hank shoots back.

“Me?” Gabe laughs, the sound edged with something smug. “You practically had Mine tattooed on her forehead the second we found her.”

“Whatever,” Hank grumbles. A cabinet creaks open, then shuts.

“Seriously though, what are we going to do with her?”

“We have to take her with us,” Hank says, as if it’s the most obvious solution in the world.

A beat of silence.

Then, Gabe snorts. “Right. Because Ally’s the kind of woman who wants to be babysat all day.”

“No, but she’s the kind of woman who attracts trouble,” Hank counters. A cabinet door thuds closed with more force than necessary. “And you know damn well we can’t leave her here alone.”

“She could watch us train,” Gabe adds, thoughtful now. “Stay in the gym, keep an eye on things.”

“She’d be bored out of her mind.” There’s a thwap —probably Hank smacking something onto the counter harder than necessary. “And let’s be real. We’re not exactly known for our ability to focus when… distracted .”

Gabe chuckles. “You? Distracted? Didn’t think that was possible, Mr. Ice-Cold-Focus.”

“Hell yes,” Hank growls. “With her sitting there watching us? All I’d be thinking about is fucking her.”

“I know, right?” Gabe lets out a low whistle. “Jesus, it’s been a long time since I’ve been this hooked. I don’t think I’ve ever been this obsessed—” He stops himself, the unspoken words hanging thick in the air. “Fuck, man. It’s dangerous.”

Hank grunts. “Understatement of the year.”

“Bringing her might backfire,” Gabe muses. “It’d be hell trying to concentrate, knowing she’s there. Watching. Making me want to bend her over the nearest surface…”

“Exactly,” Hank mutters. “And Ethan’s already suspicious. We show up looking like we’ve been on a three-day bender? He’s gonna ream our asses.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Gabe’s grin is audible.

“No, but this time it’s different. She’s different.”

Another stretch of silence.

“Yeah…” Hank sighs. “So what the fuck do we do? I’m not looking to walk away from this.”

“Not ever,” Gabe adds quietly.

They both go quiet for a beat. I press my lips together, my pulse skipping.

“She’s surprising,” Hank finally says. “In the best possible way.”

“Agreed.” Gabe’s voice softens. “Never expected her to fall into this so naturally.”

“She thrives on it,” Hank says firmly. “Structure. Control.”

“Yeah,” Gabe responds as a chair scrapes against the floor. “Absolutely.”

“Speaking of…” Hank’s voice lowers. “She’s using Sir quite a bit.”

A pause.

Then Gabe hums. “Yeah…”

“Yeah.” Hank releases a long breath .

“You like it, don’t you?” Gabe asks.

“More than I should.” Hank’s admission seems to cost him something. “You like it too. I see the way you look at her. I know what’s going through that head of yours.”

“I’m afraid I’ll demand too much,” Gabe says. “Go too far.”

I shiver, pressing back against the wall, my breath catching in my throat.

“You want to push her?” Hank muses, voice thoughtful. “See how deep this goes?”

“We’d be idiots not to explore it, but how far?” Gabe asks with a slow sip of coffee. “My kind of far, or your kind?”

Silence.

“Both,” Hank speaks again, quieter this time. “I want to know what she needs, what she wants, what makes her feel safe. I want to give her everything.”

“Did you see how she reacted when?—”

“Yeah, but remember what she said about triggers? I’m worried about you tying her up or holding her down. We steer away from that for now.”

“Agreed, but we should ask her how often she gets triggered. Noticed how it hasn’t happened since the first night.”

My breath stutters. The conversation shifts into something more—something that makes my heart race, not from desire but from the startling realization that they’re not just interested in my body—they’re invested in me.

“You think she’s ready for me?” Gabe asks. “It’s only been?—”

“Two days, yeah, I know,” Hank interrupts. “She expressed interest. I know you feel it. I say let her steer that course. If she asks, go for it. If not, you wait.”

“I will,” Gabe says.

My pulse hammers so loudly in my ears I can’t hear anything else. I suddenly need to not be standing in the hallway eavesdropping like a total creep.

I school my expression, force my steps to stay slow, and make it to the end of the hall before pulling up short in awe.

The sight that greets me makes me pause, biting back a smile.

Hank is at the stove, shirtless, a spatula in hand as he flips bacon with all the precision of a man trained to dismantle weapons in the dark. Across from him, Gabe leans against the counter, sipping his coffee and watching him with a kind of focus that borders on amusement.

“Tell me again why you don’t let me cook?” Gabe muses, tapping a finger against his mug.

Hank doesn’t glance up. “Because I like living, and you nearly burned the place down last time.”

Gabe snorts. “One grease fire, and you never let it go.”

“Because one grease fire was one too many.”

I shake my head, stepping into the kitchen. “Should I be worried about breakfast?”

They both turn, and something shifts in the room—a tangible change in the air as their attention fixes on me. Gabe grins, lazy and pleased, his gaze skimming over my bare legs beneath his T-shirt. “Morning, sweetheart.”

Hank’s eyes soften at the edges, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Sleep well?”

I nod, watching as he returns to the bacon, flipping it with flair. “Better than I have in months.”

I move toward the coffee pot, but Gabe is already there, reaching for a mug. “I’ve got it.” He pours, adds cream without asking—he already knows how I take it—and passes the cup to me, his fingers brushing mine deliberately.

“Thanks,” I murmur, taking a sip. The warmth spreads through me, settling in my chest alongside something else—a sense of belonging I’m not sure I’ve ever felt.

Hank glances over his shoulder. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” I admit, settling onto a barstool. I watch them move around each other, a choreography built on years of partnership.

Hank nods toward the stove. “I’ve got bacon going, about to make eggs. How do you want yours?”

I hum, tapping a finger against my lips as I pretend to give it serious thought. “Soft scrambled. Not burned. ”

Hank lifts a brow but doesn’t respond to my jab. “Of course. Princess eggs.”

I narrow my eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Soft and delicate.” He smirks. “Like you.”

I roll my eyes, but there’s no heat behind it.

As he turns back to the stove, I lean against the counter, casually swiping a crispy strip of bacon from the plate beside him.

A sharp smack lands against my ass.

I gasp, more from surprise than anything else, spinning to glare at him.

“No stealing,” Hank says smoothly, flipping an egg like nothing happened, but his gaze flicks to mine, dark and assessing, waiting to see how I react.

Heat licks up my spine. A delicious, shivery thrill spreads through me.

I take my sweet time biting into the bacon, chewing slowly, deliberately, letting my lips curve into a wicked little smirk.

“What’s the punishment for repeat offenders?” I muse, licking a bit of grease from my thumb.

Hank’s nostrils flare, something dark flickering behind his eyes before his smirk sharpens. “Steal another piece, and you’ll find out.”

I tilt my head, letting my fingers hover just above the plate, eyes locked on his. “Why? What are you going to do?”

His voice drops, smooth and lethal. “Luv, you’re going to learn I’m not the one to fear when it comes to punishments.” A slow pause, letting it settle. “Although… if you want to keep pushing, go ahead. Gabe’s more than eager to bend you over his knee.”

A sharp, wicked thrill pulses low in my belly.

I swallow, pulse skipping, but I don’t reach for the bacon. Instead, I take a careful step back, hands raised in mock surrender. “Then I’ll be on my best behavior.”

Gabe sighs dramatically into his coffee, shaking his head. “Bummer. I was looking forward to it.”

I choke on air.

Hank laughs, shaking his head as he turns back to the stove.

Gabe sips his coffee, eyes twinkling.

Hank slides my eggs onto a plate, nudging it toward me. “Eat your breakfast, luv.”

I pick up my fork. “Well,” I sigh dramatically, “at least I know you’re feeding me before you fuck me again. My thighs may never recover.”

Gabe chuckles, taking another sip of coffee. “That sore, huh?”

I narrow my eyes. “You know exactly how sore I am.”

“Too sore for more?” Gabe tilts his head, his smirk full of wicked promise.

I nearly choke on my bacon. “Are you serious?”

Hank scoffs. “Jesus, Gabe, let the girl eat her damn breakfast before you fuck her.”

Gabe shrugs. “What? She’s enjoying herself.” He glances at me, all slow appraisal and smug amusement. “You are enjoying yourself, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

I chew deliberately, staring them both down, letting the moment stretch. Then I swallow, tilting my head. “This is the best sex I’ve ever had. Like ever. So yeah, I’m enjoying myself.”

Gabe’s smirk widens, satisfaction flickering in his eyes.

“But…” I glance at my plate, then back up at him, deliberately slow. “I need breakfast first, and maybe a nap—alone—since the two of you can’t seem to keep your hands off me in bed.”

“We can’t keep our hands off you in, or out, of bed.” Hank chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as he loads more bacon onto my plate.

Gabe watches me, then sighs, grinning. “Fine. Eat your breakfast.” He leans in slightly, voice low. “But afterward…”

“I’m all yours. Willing to serve.” I pop a piece of bacon into my mouth, chewing slowly, deliberately, my gaze never leaving his as my hand strays toward the bacon-filled plate I’m not supposed to touch.

A flicker of something dark flashes across Gabe’s face.

Interest. Heat. Hunger.

His smirk fades, replaced by something slower, heavier. He sets his coffee down with an almost intentional slowness, his fingers tapping against the rim before trailing idly along the counter.

“Be careful. ”

I arch a brow. “With what?”

His eyes burn into me, sharp and assessing. “With your willingness to serve, or inviting punishment.” His sharp gaze shifts to the bacon-filled plate, and I draw back.

My stomach tightens.

His smirk is gone now, replaced by something unreadable—something about to be unleashed. He tilts his head slightly, watching me like he’s figuring me out, his eyes dipping over my body, not in appreciation, but calculation.

“But I am… willing, that is.”

His voice drops, rougher. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

I swallow.

He doesn’t blink, doesn’t smirk, doesn’t tease. “You want to play, sweetheart?” A pause, like he’s letting the weight of the moment settle. “We’ll play, but know what game you’re stepping into before you leap into the unknown.”

The air in the kitchen shifts, the teasing warmth giving way to something deeper, something that coils between us, waiting to snap.

Then, just as smoothly as he unraveled me, he leans back, picking up his coffee like the last few seconds didn’t just wreck me from the inside out.

Hank smirks, flipping the last strip of bacon onto my plate. “Eat up, luv. You’re going to need to keep your strength up.”

I shake my head, taking another bite, before pointing my fork at them. “Before more sex, let’s get into a few other things first.”

Hank lifts a brow. Gabe grins.

I lean back, folding my arms. “You two have had me in every way possible, so I think it’s only fair that I get to know a little more about the men I’m sleeping with.”

Gabe chuckles, setting his coffee down. “Oh, sweetheart.” His grin turns downright wicked. “We haven’t touched all the ways we’re going to have you.”

I freeze, my fork hovering halfway to my mouth.

Hank hums in agreement, utterly unbothered. “We’ve been easy on you.” He sips his coffee, glancing at me over the rim.

Heat flares in my face. My brain stutters and words fail me.

Gabe leans back, watching me with open amusement. “She looks a little flustered, doesn’t she?”

Hank nods, entirely too smug. “You think she was prepared for that one?”

I snap my mouth shut, refusing to give them the satisfaction. Instead, I exhale slowly, gathering my composure.

I lift my chin, arching a brow. “You may think you’re going slow, but let’s be clear—” I set my fork down deliberately, my gaze locked on theirs. “I’m ready and willing to be educated in all things Hank and Gabe.”

Gabe’s grin widens, slow and dangerous, his blue eyes darkening with interest.

Hank chuckles low, shaking his head. “Careful, luv. That sounds like a challenge.”

Heat licks down my spine at how they look at me—like they’re considering how best to take me up on that offer. The air between us crackles, slow and charged, and for a second, I think they might abandon breakfast altogether.

But I inhale, pushing forward before they can turn the tables again.

“I’d like to know a little more about the two of you.” I don’t miss the way they exchange glances or how the air in the room shifts like I’ve challenged them without meaning to.

I swallow. Then, smoothly, I steer the conversation.

I cross my arms, pinning them with a look. “Seriously. I know next to nothing about you two except for the fact that you’re ridiculously hot, exquisitely dominant, outstanding in bed, and dismiss my security detail without asking.”

Gabe’s lips quirk. “What do you want to know?”

I tap my chin. “I’ll settle for the basics. Siblings? Parents? Hopes and dreams? Let’s start there.”

“Jesus, woman. You don’t ease into things, do you?” Hank plates eggs for Gabe, then cracks more into the pan for himself.

I grin around my coffee cup. “A tech billionaire raised me. Interrogation is practically a love language in my family. ”

Gabe chuckles, setting his mug down. “Alright, let’s see…” He leans back, arms crossing. “Only child. My parents live in North Carolina. Dad’s retired Navy. Mom runs a bakery.”

I blink. “A bakery?”

He smirks. “Yep. Mom’s the real boss in the family. Do not mess with her cinnamon rolls.”

“Shame she didn’t teach her son how to cook,” Hank says with an exaggerated cough.

I tilt my head. “Does she know you’re out here playing hostage rescue and…” I hesitate, feeling my cheeks warm. “… about your other interests?”

Hank snorts.

Gabe grins, his eyes darkening slightly. “She knows I work in security and hostage rescue. Doesn’t ask too many questions about my personal life.” He shrugs. “She found some of my equipment once. Wasn’t thrilled, but accepts it’s part of who I am. We have an unspoken understanding.”

“And she knows about… ” I gesture vaguely between the men.

“That we share partners? Yeah.” Gabe’s voice is casual, but there’s a hint of challenge in his eyes. “We don’t hide who we are from family. Not anymore.”

Something catches in my chest at his casual reference to the intensity between us. I turn to Hank, seeking safer ground.

“And you? What’s your story?”

His smirk fades, something harder settling over his features. “Dad’s a drunk. Beat up my mom for years.”

“I’m sorry,” I say automatically, surprised by the blunt admission.

Hank shakes his head. “Don’t be. The day I turned fourteen, I went head to toe with my old man.” His jaw tightens. “He came home raging drunk, fists already swinging. Mom had a split lip, and something just…” He makes a snapping motion with his hands. “Something broke inside me.”

“You were a kid,” I say softly, trying to imagine a teenage Hank standing up to a grown man.

“I was big for my age. I had been working out, getting stronger, knowing I’d need to step up someday.” His eyes meet mine, unflinching. “Sent him to the ER with a broken jaw, three cracked ribs, and a shattered hand. Never seen him since.”

“My God,” I whisper, stunned by the raw honesty.

“My mom’s a saint,” Hank continues, his voice softening. “She rebuilt her life. Got her degree. She’s a social worker now, helping other women get out.” Pride illuminates his face. “And yeah, she knows about our arrangement. She’s actually more comfortable with it than Gabe’s mom. Says as long as everyone’s consenting and treated with respect, it’s none of her business.”

I study him with new eyes, seeing the protective core that defines him. The boy who defended his mother has become the man who rescues hostages, who swept in to save me. Something warm unfurls in my chest.

“You’ve been protecting people your whole life,” I say quietly.

His eyes meet mine, something vulnerable flashing there before he covers it with a half-smile. “Someone’s got to.”

I let the weight of their revelations sit between us momentarily before shifting gears. “So, Guardian HRS. How’d that happen? I’m guessing there’s a story there, too.”

Gabe exchanges a look with Hank. “Military was the natural next step for both of us.”

“Navy,” Hank adds. “Like Gabe’s dad, though for different reasons. I needed the discipline, the structure.”

“And we both ended up in BUD/S—that’s Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training,” Gabe explains. “Most brutal six months of your life. That’s where we met.”

“We were in different classes initially,” Hank continues. “But ended up on the same SEAL team eventually. Deployed together for eight years.”

“You two were SEALs?” I’m impressed but not surprised. It fits the quiet competence they both exude.

Gabe nods. “We saw some things. Did some things. Eventually decided we wanted more control over our missions. Military’s great for some. But we wanted to build something of our own. ”

Hank steals a piece of my bacon. “We got tired of working for a government that didn’t give a damn.”

Gabe nods. “Left the military. Did some private contract work. Heard about Guardian HRS, applied, got in. Been with Charlie team ever since.”

“It’s the best job I’ve ever had,” Hank adds, smirking. “You know, besides fucking you senseless.”

I throw a piece of toast at him.

Gabe laughs, shaking his head.

I sit back, taking them both in. Two men, built like gods, trained to kill, somehow turning my world upside down, and yet, there’s still one question pressing at the back of my mind, one I need answered.

I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes as I sip my coffee. “Alright, I’ve got to ask.”

Hank lifts a brow. “Here we go.”

“Finally.” Gabe leans back, a cocky smirk on his face.

“How did this—” I gesture between them, “—become a thing? The two of you, sharing women?”