Flock (The Ravenhood)

Sean sleeps next to me, passing out just minutes after his head hit the pillow. I lie in his hold restless, my thoughts running rampant.

This could cost me my future.

One misstep, being implicated in any of their shady dealings could cost me my life.

Is becoming tangled up with them worth it?

What kind of future can we have?

This isn’t a phase for them that they’ll outgrow, this is their way of life. Their purpose. Do I want to be anchored to it by a relationship that may or may not work out?

It’s insane, this decision, this choice. One I never thought in a million years I would be faced with.

It distorts the natural order of things. This is a no picket fence life.

But somewhere, deep down I knew, I knew something was off—way off and clearly dangerous. I just didn’t realize how off, how dangerous. In a delusional way, I assumed it wouldn’t affect me.

The more I fall, the more entangled I become, and if I’m not careful, if I don’t choose out, I’ll be shackled in by new secrets.

But I’m leaving. In a year, I am leaving. That’s a definite. I’m not going to skip college or throw away my chances at a higher education for anyone.

How much can really happen in a year?

Tyler’s words the day we met come into mind.

“Crazy where a day can take you, huh? That’s nothing unusual around here.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” I whisper into Sean’s hair. I need to sleep on this. My decision doesn’t have to be made today. I can distance myself until I’ve made it. I’ve got the willpower.

Liar.

I run my fingers through Sean’s hair, and he groans lightly in his sleep in thanks, making me smile.

Sleep evades me, and I untangle from Sean and toss the covers off when I hear the distinct sound of an engine pull up in the drive. Padding down the stairs I find Dominic at the kitchen table, wrestling a small plastic-wrapped package with a freshly uncapped beer next to it.

“Is it broken?”

He looks up from where he sits, eyes sweeping me before getting back to his task. I approach him and take the thick gauze from his hand and gently examine his injury. Both his wrist and hand are twice their normal size.

“Ouch. Could be broken.”

“I can bend it.”

“You okay?”

“Shitty night,” he grabs his beer from the table and takes a long pull.

“Where’s Tyler?” I ask, starting on his bandage.

“He’s indisposed.”

“Did something else happen?”

“He’s good. Business as usual.”

“Just a party, right?” I can feel his eyes on me as I carefully layer the material snuggly against his skin. “Tell me if it’s too tight.”

“Why are you going along with this?”

I pause and meet his silvery depths, which threaten to pull me under and dart my eyes away. When I make my decision, I need to be far away from the two distractions that will only make it harder to step away. “I’m not sure if I am yet.”

“I didn’t think you were the type.”

“I’m not, it’s just as surprising to me, if you want the truth.”

“Always.”

One side of my mouth lifts as I carefully wrap his wrist and hand. “Says the deviant liar.”

“Some people can’t handle the truth,” he drains the rest of his beer. “It’s best to let them count sheep.”

“Always so cryptic.”

“You’re smart enough to decipher truth from fiction.”

I pause my hands. “I’m not so sure after tonight, but that’s a rare compliment coming from you.”

“I don’t let my dick get in the way of my judgment.”

Our gazes hold for long seconds as I draw more conclusions. They both made the decision to bring me in tonight. Together. It has nothing to do with our sexual relationship. The feelings that stir because of that make my heart sing.

“You can trust me,” I say, securing the metal teeth on the bandage.

“It’s a lot to ask.”

“So is keeping your secrets.”

“You don’t know my secrets.”

“I know what I think I know, and that’s plenty.”

“And what do you think you know?”

The last few hours I’ve been staring at Sean’s ceiling sorting through his subtle teachings of the last six weeks. He incorporated the ‘club’s’ beliefs into our courting and did so in the most effective of ways, spoon-feeding me until I knew what they collectively stood for, without directly coming out and saying it.

“That you’re high up in an organization of backroads’ misfits who do bad deeds to carry out good ones.”

I’m not at all surprised when my answer is silence.

“So, what happens now?”

He reads my question, and it has nothing to do with tonight’s discovery.

“I’m not Sean.”

“Meaning?”

“I don’t do these talks.” He drains his beer as I secure the teeth a little tighter on his bandage. “But I could use a shower.” I’m not sure what he’s implying. He clearly needs my help undressing due to the injury, but I’m unwilling to go any further until I figure out what I need to.

He stands and awkwardly grabs another beer from the fridge. He uses the edge of the counter to pop off the cap and downs it like water before moving toward the stairs, and timidly I follow. Once inside his room, I glance around taking advantage of the peek into his world. Hundreds of books line the shelves next to his fully loaded space station with giant monitors. Next to it on a small table are three charging laptops. The pained grunt echoing from the next room deters me from taking more of a curious look around, and I meet him where he stands in the bathroom toeing off his boots. He bends to rip his sock off and loses his footing, his beer bottle clinking against the counter as he tries to brace himself. I laugh, steadying his hips with my hands, and between our efforts, he remains upright. He gives me a lazy half-smile, his eyes going glassy. “Fuck, my left hand really needs my right.”

“I’m sure the alcohol you sucked down didn’t help. We should have iced it first,” I free him from his other sock.

“It can wait until morning.”

“It really shouldn’t.”

“Cecelia,” he expels a breath that’s more like a plea, and I concede. I’m just as exhausted and wish my mind would let me sleep.

Moving in behind him, I unfasten his skinny jeans and tug them down his muscular thighs along with his briefs, before I circle him to remove his T-shirt. He gazes at me wordlessly and I turn on the shower, holding my hand in the spray, he snakes his good arm around me, lifting my shirt to stroke the skin of my stomach.

“Thank you. I’m good now. If you want to go.”

The touch is sensual, sweet, and in reply, I lift my T-shirt off. His eyes flare as he drinks me in bare. It’s our first time being alone and naked since we had sex, and I can’t tear my eyes away. But I have to, so I turn my back on him and rest my head in the crook of his shoulder as the water warms. Once it’s ready, he releases me, and we step inside. I tilt the faucet head, so most of the water pours over his body. I’ve already had my shower.

With another man, Cecelia. His roommate and best friend.

This cannot and will not end well. Unless I believe Sean, unless I believe them both. Too many wheels spin in my head and I decide to let them fly off, along with my lingering questions about the meetup as I suds up his loofah and begin to wash him from head to toe. Taking my time, I start at his chest and work my way down, unable to avoid the sight of his dick when it springs to life. My core begins to ache at the memory of our earlier exchange in his Camaro, my nipple in his mouth, his head slowly working as I clutched him to me.

“Sean was my third,” I look at him pointedly. “That makes you my fourth. Before the two of you, I was in two separate and monogamous relationships, which may seem boring to you, but…” I shake my head. “Anyway, my point is, I don’t sleep around. And that day…I’ve never done anything like that. I’ve never been in this position. I’m a one at a time type of girl.”

Silence. The bastard is not going to make this easy on me.

“I know it seems hypocritical, but if you are sleeping around, I can’t,” I gesture between us. “I’m not…I don’t think I can do this.”

He eyes me without a word, not giving me an inch as I carefully avoid his erection and scrub off the day from his muscular thighs. He holds his injured hand away from the spray as I circle him, going up the same way I came down, daring to look up at him through the streaming water. Not a hint of his earlier smile, just his rapt attention when I rise and tilt his head back, soaking his onyx hair. The water cascades down the cuts of his body, as he hovers above me, temptation personified.

The urge to take another bite is damn near impossible to resist.

I pour shampoo on a shaky hand before raking my fingers against his scalp, feeling his exhale on my chest. It’s utter agony being this close to him while clutching what’s left of my moral standards tightly to me. Once he’s clean, I step out, toweling off before he does, and then I take my time drying him off, not bothering to find him some boxers because I know his sleeping preference. Overly doting, I coat his toothbrush with toothpaste, and he rolls his eyes but takes it as I gargle with some of his mouthwash. Out of the bathroom, I can feel his eyes trail me as I straighten and pull back his rumpled sheets. After he slides in, I bend and press my lips to his forehead, knowing he won’t like it. And he doesn’t, shaking the maternal act away while giving me the stink eye.

I can’t help my laugh and nuzzle him with my wet hair to spite the air surrounding him. I pull back to hover above him and I see his lips twitch before he grips my neck and draws my mouth to his. He goes deep, setting me on fire. A moan erupts from my lips as he thoroughly fucks me with his tongue, before pulling away and adjusting his pillow.

“Do you need me to stay?”

“I’m not Sean.”

Nodding, I pull away.

“If you need me, you know where to find me.”

Feeling the slight sting of his rejection, I walk back down the hall to see Sean shift in bed, pulling up the sheet to make room for me.

“He good?”

“He’s good.”

He reaches for me and pulls me into his arms and within minutes, my dreams find me.