Page 48 of Ruthless Desires, Vol. One (Ruthless Desires Series Extended Editions #1)

Rhett

Friday morning, the coffee shop isn’t terribly busy. I find myself checking the exits repeatedly, like doing so now will somehow protect Wren while we’re gone. Thankfully, Oliver and Ell are too busy watching Wren work to notice.

Jesus. We’re all fucking wrecked for this woman.

I sip on my black coffee while looking around the shop again. Everything is exactly the way it always is. I know I’m just being paranoid. But ever since Oliver told us that Ludo was watching her the other night, I’ve been on edge.

Wren catches my eye and smiles. I freeze.

Just watch her the next time she looks at one of us. That’s not a rebound look.

Oliver was right. Last night, I made sure to watch Wren more closely, and the way her eyes lit up or her gaze softened whenever she looked at one of us had my heart aching. I never should’ve doubted her. Trusting people just… doesn’t come easily to me.

“We should get going soon,” Elliot says reluctantly.

I tear my gaze away from Wren. Six months. Six months, and then all of this will be over, and we’ll never have to leave her again.

None of us really knows what life will look like after Ludo is dead. Will we still take on jobs? I don’t know. It’s not like we need the money. We’re taking them now because of reputation and connections reasons. But in the future, I’d like to know that Ell, Oliver, and Wren are safe. Our lifestyle doesn’t lend itself to that kind of security easily.

Once we’ve finished our coffee, we stand. Wren comes around the counter, giving Elliot and Oliver lingering hugs and quick kisses. When she turns to me, I sweep her up into my arms and press my face into her hair.

“I’ll see you soon,” she says. “Stay safe.”

“Always.” I kiss her. And then I kiss her again, this time more deeply, a secret apology for my doubts last night.

She looks a little flustered as I pull away—maybe even a little embarrassed. When I look around, I see why. Multiple other customers are watching the four of us. Some curiously, some judgmentally. A single look from me, and they immediately go back to minding their own damn business.

As we leave the coffee shop, I look back. Wren is watching us from behind the counter. She waves, and I nod. And when the door shuts behind me, I can’t help but shake the feeling that I’m leaving a very vital part of me behind.

***

One of the many benefits of having access to a private plane is not having to deal with nearly as many people. It makes the whole boarding process a lot easier, and I’m able to relax more on the flight.

Once we’re in the air, Elliot pulls out his laptop. “I just have some things I want to go over.”

“I should probably try to catch up on sleep,” I say. I tried to rest last night, but I wasn’t able to. Typical.

“I’ll come too,” Oliver chirps. “To help you relax.”

Elliot rolls his eyes and laughs, not looking up from his laptop as we move into the bedroom.

I flop onto the bed stomach down, hiding my smile in the pillows when Oliver crawls on top of me and straddles my ass. His hands move to my shoulders, massaging, and I can’t help but groan. He works me for a few minutes, focusing on the knots in my shoulders before moving down my arms.

“You know you’re supposed to relax when someone’s giving you a massage, right?”

“I am relaxed.”

“Jesus Christ. Your muscles are literal rocks,” Oliver says.

“They’re not the only thing that’s hard,” I grumble.

With a deep chuckle, Oliver leans down until his lips are hovering right by my ear. “Good.”

“I meant your ass. It’s bony as hell.”

With a disbelieving huff, Oliver crawls off and pushes me until I’m flipped over and lying on my back. He stares pointedly at my cock.

“Okay. Maybe that, too.”

Before he can make a smartass remark, I grab him and pull him onto the mattress next to me. He grins, that familiar mischievous glimmer in his eyes. It’s a playful look I’ve come to love over the years. But right now, being playful is the last thing on my mind.

Rolling on top of him, I pin Oliver to the bed. He groans when I fit my mouth to his, my hands keeping his wrists in place. Ell may love tying Oliver up, but I much prefer to hold him down myself.

“Fucking hell, Rhett,” Oliver gasps when I move my lips to his neck, attacking the spot that always makes him go wild. He moves to touch me, but I keep his arms pinned down.

“You want me to fuck you?”

“Obviously,” he grunts, craning his neck for another kiss.

“Then be a good boy and stop struggling.”

That causes Oliver’s face to light up with a grin. He relaxes, and I reward him with my lips moving against his. I let go of one of his wrists, grabbing onto his throat and squeezing. I add the amount of pressure he likes. It’s a firm grip, but it’s not so tight that he’ll pass out.

With his free hand, Oliver fumbles with my pants, trying to undo them. “Fuck, why is this button being so goddamned—there! Finally.” He yanks down my zipper before reaching into my boxers and grabbing my dick.

Groaning, I thrust into his palm. Having him on top of me had me so hard I was almost grinding into the mattress. But the feeling of his fingers wrapped around my cock makes it worth the wait. Still, it’s not enough.

I lean down to kiss him again, and he meets my movements with unrestrained enthusiasm.

More. I need more.

With a grunt, I yank myself off of Oliver. He lets out a disappointed whine, but I’m already tearing his shirt over his head. Then I kiss him again, like I can’t fucking stop myself. Because I can’t.

He pulls away. “If you’re not inside of me in the next five minutes, I’m going to get Ell to fuck me.”

“Like hell you will,” I growl.

“Watch me,” Oliver says indignantly as he starts to move to the edge of the bed.

I let him go for a second because I know what he wants, and goddammit, I want it too. But before he’s even off the mattress, I grab the waistband of his pants and jerk him back.

“Who said I wouldn’t?”

Oliver snickers.

“But I’m a selfish bastard, O, and I want you to myself first.”

“Then fuck me already, you tease.”

“With pleasure,” I say, my tone conveying my unspoken words: don’t expect me to be gentle.

I yank Oliver’s pants and boxers off in one go. Then I haul him up so he’s on his hands and knees. “One second.”

I rifle through my bag, looking for some lube. Once I find it, I crawl onto the bed behind Oliver, spreading his cheeks and squirting some of the lube onto my fingers. When I brush one over his asshole, he jumps.

“Cold,” he complains.

“You’re fine,” I chide.

I take my time prepping Oliver, making sure he’s nice and ready. Besides, I like making him wait. He’s fun to tease.

After lubing up my cock, I rub it against his hole. He groans in frustration, trying to push back against me, but I smack his ass.

“Now, Rhett,” he grits out.

“Didn’t you ever learn that patience is a virtue?”

“Please.”

With a smirk, I slide into him. It’s just an inch or two, but the moan that leaves his mouth has me giving him more. Every whimper and gasp that I pull from Oliver is like a small victory. I devour them, driving into him harder, the sounds only making me want more.

“Fuck,” Oliver shouts.

I slap his ass, not slowing my pace. “Keep it down, the fucking pilot probably heard that.”

Oliver lets out another loud moan, and then I hear movement outside the bedroom.

“That doesn’t sound like sleeping to me,” Elliot says from the doorway.

“Get in here and shut him up.”

With an amused huff, Elliot closes the door and sheds his clothes. He climbs onto the bed in front of Oliver, bending down to kiss him before straightening.

“Suck,” Elliot says, shoving his dick in Oliver’s face.

Oliver wastes no time wrapping his lips around Elliot’s cock. He’s still moaning, but not nearly as much, which makes me think he was only being that loud to get Ell’s attention.

Can’t say I’m disappointed, though.

“Christ,” Elliot groans. His eyes lock with mine as Oliver does all the work, and then he’s leaning forward and grabbing my face. When his mouth meets mine, it’s more of a battle for dominance than a kiss.

Elliot pulls away first, his mouth still open, so I spit into it. He swallows with a smile. Then he grunts when Oliver sucks one of his balls into his mouth.

“Flip him over,” I say, pulling out. We both grab Oliver and turn him so he’s on his back.

“Shit,” Oliver pants when I slide back into him. He’s holding onto his legs and spreading them apart for me. “Don’t stop.”

Elliot slaps his dick across Oliver’s face. “You like being fucked like this, huh? Bet you wish Wren was here so she could suck your dick, too.”

“Jesus. Yes.”

“Well she’s not here,” Ell says, “and you’re supposed to be sucking my dick.”

Oliver jumps back to work with a grin. I can feel myself getting close, so I slow down, not wanting to finish yet. Then I take Oliver’s dick in my hand, moving up and down.

It’s been a while since the three of us have fucked together without Wren. We’ve been busy, and adding her into our dynamic has been a hell of a lot of fun. I wish she was with us—I always do. But it’s nice to connect with Elliot and Oliver, too.

Oliver lets out a telltale groan that I’ve heard a thousand times. Elliot pulls out of his mouth and strokes his own dick as he smirks down at Oliver.

“That didn’t take very long, did it?” Elliot says in a mocking tone.

I move my hand faster, causing Oliver’s eyes to roll into the back of his head. And then he finishes all over himself with a breathless moan.

It’s rare that the sound of Oliver coming doesn’t send me hurtling toward my own orgasm. “Oh, shit.”

“Give it to me,” Oliver pants. “Come on me. Please.”

I pull out, and he wraps his hand around my cock. I’m not normally one to do as I’m told, but it only takes a few strokes before I’m doing exactly what Oliver requested and covering his stomach in my cum. It takes everything in me not to collapse on top of him once I’m done.

Oliver shimmies up the bed until his head is in between Elliot’s legs. His tongue laves across Elliot’s balls before he sucks on one. And it has Elliot swearing under his breath and moving his hand faster.

I chuckle. “Looks like you’re not going to last long either, pretty boy.”

“Shit,” Elliot groans. “You’re too fucking good at this, Ol.”

It only makes Oliver work more enthusiastically. Within a minute, Elliot’s eyes are squeezing shut as the tension in his body builds.

“Fuck,” I whisper. Then louder, “Cover him in your cum, Ell. Don’t make him wait.”

Oliver moans in anticipation, and Elliot can’t hold out any longer. He comes, letting out a loud groan as he does. Once he’s finished, he falls on his side, panting.

“Jesus,” Oliver says, staring down at himself. “That’s a lot.”

We all take a couple minutes to catch our breath. Then I head into the bathroom to wash my hands and grab a washcloth—maybe two or three washcloths. After cleaning up Oliver, I move to clean my dick, but he stops me.

“I’ve got it,” he says. “You look like you’re ready to fall over.”

I am.

I collapse onto the bed, my eyelids too heavy to keep open. Oliver takes the washcloth and presses a kiss to my forehead. It’s the last thing I remember before drifting off to sleep.