always felt acutely shy at these moments, pretty much overwhelmed by what they made me feel.
“Leave her alone,” Ink chided, but I heard the humor in his voice as he toweled off.
I turned back to face him, saw his dick swinging in the breeze, and wondered when this had happened. I couldn’t really give a time when they’d all stopped wearing boxers to bed. They never crossed swords or anything like that, but neither did they cover up anymore.
I guessed it was because we were all at peace with one another, and I loved that. A vein of intimacy had threaded between us, tightening around us until I wasn’t sure where I started and they ended.
This was no longer a family built around me, but around us all.
I sighed at the sight of how beautiful Ink was. He hadn’t had any tats in years, and I was busy working on something in my spare time that would go on his back. It was going to be an anniversary gift to him, but then, I had gifts for Keys and Saint too. Keys knew his design was his momma, but Saint? He didn’t know he was getting a tiger piece. I wasn’t even sure if he liked tigers, but they reminded me of him. Slow to burn, but when enraged? The inferno was swift and deadly.
Quickly swerving my thoughts away from that line of thought because I didn’t have it in me to get horny again, I mumbled, “Can we go to bed yet?”
When they laughed, I was quickly washed up. I loved how tender they were with me. How they did this for me because they knew they’d short-fused every nerve ending in my body.
When Ink hauled me out of the bath, I clung to him as Saint dried me off. Sometimes, I thought I didn’t tell them I loved them enough, but I showed it. With every kiss, with every touch, I imbued it with my love.
And as Ink lay me on the bed, I cuddled into him, knowing that Saint and Keys would be at my back soon enough.
They always had that.
Would always protect me, keep me safe, cherish me with their love, and it was why I could go to sleep without dreading what would happen.
Why I could close my eyes without fear of the past.
These men were my past, my present, and my future rolled into one.
I’d spend the rest of my life showing them just how grateful I was for that.
And that was a promise.
❖
Ink
“Got a gift for you,” I told her the following day.
She cocked a brow at me as she stopped inking the detail on Keys’ tattoo of his momma. He’d said that he’d wait for her to be good enough, and though she’d been ready about six months ago, she’d waited until now, saying she’d decide when that was.
It was perfection. True perfection. And it wasn’t often I said crap like that. But Jesus, it was a work of art, and I knew I’d have to get some work done by her, not only to feel her claim all the more, but to have the connection of ink, my medium, to her.
“What is it?” she demanded, squinting at me even as she blew out a breath to displace the lock of hair that was stuck to her brow. Keys curled upright, now that she’d stopped inking him, and as he moved his other arm from behind his head, he reached over and aided her in that task.
“Gift. Told ya,” was all I said.
She got to her feet, perfect in her uniform of denim short shorts and a vest top. In two years, I wasn’t sure I’d seen her in anything else… well, except for the day we’d gotten married.
A forty-hour road trip all round and we’d gotten married in Vegas by the King. She’d been in a floaty dress, looking like some kind of angel in the linen fabric that had swirled around her heels as she’d walked toward us. I’d been the one with my name on the certificate, but Keys and Saint had been at the altar with me and they’d been our witnesses.
She now wore three rings, one for each of us, and they were her version of a fidget spinner. I always got a kick out of watching her fiddle with them, because I knew they grounded her.
When I placed the briefcase on the desk, I told her, “Come and open it.”