Chapter Three

The new Broken Circle was bigger, badder, and way more imposing than its previous incarnation, rising up five impressive concrete stories to tower over the other buildings in the O’Kane compound.

As much nostalgia as Six felt for the old bar, it was hard to stand in the shadow of Dallas’s new dream and not feel the power in it. This is what we can do when no one’s holding us back.

Dallas wasn’t fucking around when it came to dreams.

The inside was just as impressive. Dallas had resisted all urging to gloss over his empire with Eden’s brand of polish. Bare concrete walls and industrial steel were complemented by salvaged wooden furniture polished to a high gleam in spite of its scratches and flaws. The only extravagance was the leather booths in the VIP section--booths currently filled by familiar faces whose very presence loosened a knot of tension between Six’s shoulders.

Sector Three was hers. But the Broken Circle was home.

“You look almost chipper.” Lex squinted at her, a mischievous glint in her eyes that belied her accusatory tone. “Did Bren take up bladesmithing? Start making custom knives just for you?”

“No, but that’s a good idea.” Six nudged Bren with her elbow. “You probably already know how, don’t you?”

“I do not.” The corner of his mouth tilted up. “But I’m an excellent learner.”

Dallas rose from the seat next to Lex, as graceful as if he’d never been shot. The memory of those first overwhelming days after the end of the war could still make Six’s gut clench--the giddy relief at victory tangled with everyone’s fear that the man who’d led them there might still pay the ultimate price.

But Dallas was like her--too fucking ornery to die. He clapped Bren on the arm and bent to kiss the top of Six’s head. “No more projects for you two. You know what they say about all work and no play?”

“That it’s no fucking way to live,” Lex answered with a laugh.

“Not even a little bit.” Dallas nudged Six toward the booth. “Take my seat. Bren, come out to the workshop with me. I have a batch of crates to finish putting together.”

Bren slid an arm around Six’s waist and pressed his lips to her jaw just below her ear. “I’ll be back,” he whispered, then snagged a beer from the table on his way out.

So much for less work, more play. Six grabbed a beer for herself and slid into Dallas’s abandoned seat. “He’s still building those himself? I figured you guys could afford to hire some help now.”

“Of course we can, but Dallas finds it therapeutic. Says it clears his head.” She refilled her glass and set the whiskey bottle aside, uncapped. “Besides, it’s a good opportunity for them to talk.”

“Bren values his advice.” Six fiddled with the label on her beer. “We can use a lot of it right now. It always seems easy from the outside, doesn’t it? Fixing things.”

“Sometimes. Problems over in Three?”

“Nothing new, just...” She let out a soft sigh. “The kids. I need to do something about the street kids. What’s the point of money or power or any of this if I can’t figure out a way to help them?”

“Words are just words,” Lex murmured. An echo from the past, one of the first things she ever said to Six.

Six had been chained to a chair at the time. Snarling.

Not the best first impression, but they’d built on it. Lex had chipped away at her doubt and uncertainty one day at a time--not with words, because words were cheap. Lex had shown her what was possible. She’d taken the time to earn Six’s trust.

Six sipped her beer--cold, sharp, definitely one of Rachel’s best. “How do you do it in Four? Bren said Dallas set something up to keep the kids off the street as best as you can, but he didn’t know how you started it.”

“Support.” Lex braced her elbows on the table. “That was before my time, but that was the first step. There were people who were already helping those kids, and even more who wanted to, but money was tight. They had the trust, Dallas had the resources.”

It highlighted how the differences between Three and Four went so much deeper than the road separating them. Three had been devastated by the firebombings that had wiped out an entire generation of caretakers. The few support systems that managed to evolve after that had very nearly been wiped out by the previous leader.

Right now, Sector Three was long on resources, but very short on trust. “I think we have to start from scratch. We were talking about expanding the kitchens, starting with free breakfast for anyone who shows up. But...” If she closed her eyes, she’d see her worst fear--

Tables full of food. Empty of children. When she’d been their age, her instincts would have screamed trap. Why should they be any different?

“But you’re worried.” Lex watched her with that level stare of hers, the one that felt like she was seeing right through her. The one that made her Lex, the person you came to when you needed help fighting fears you couldn’t admit out loud. “You can’t make them take it. But some will, if it’s there. And you’re not stuck making them come to you. Pack up the food and walk the streets. You don’t have to let it go to waste.”

“I can do that.” And it was like the words were some kind of magic spell. The tightness in her chest eased. She was an O’Kane, with her membership inked around her wrists in a permanent sign of belonging. It didn’t matter how much time she spent in Sector Three, or how heavily the responsibility of leadership weighed on her shoulders some days.

The Broken Circle would always be home. And Lex would always be her queen.

“What’d I miss?” Emma leaned over the edge of the booth, the thin bandage on her collarbone crinkling as she reached for a beer. “Hey, Six.”

“Emma.” She nodded at the bandage. “New tattoo?”

“Just finished.” Beaming, she pulled up the edge of the bandage to reveal interwoven lines of delicate black ink. It looked like antique lace, the kind of thing Trix wore sometimes. “You like it?”

Six leaned in, her breath catching at the skill that had gone into the tiny intersecting lines and their soft shading. “It’s beautiful.”

“Oh, you haven’t seen my last one, either.” Emma turned and tugged the top of her skirt down off her right hip. The artwork looked like the little mark they put on maps to indicate north, south, east, and west--but fancier. Shaded diamonds pointed in the main directions with swooping curves in between. It almost looked like a flower, which jogged Six’s memory.

A compass rose.

The only letter was an N balanced at the very top. North. Or, more likely, Noah. “That’s beautiful, too. Ace’s work?”

“Of course.” Emma climbed over the top of the booth and slid beneath the circle of Lex’s arm to curl up beside her. “He may be semi-retired, but he’d still flip his shit if I let anyone else touch me with a needle.”

“If any O’Kane let someone else touch them with a needle,” Mad corrected as he set a basket of pretzels on the table and claimed the opposite bench. He grinned a welcome at Six and stole Lex’s bottle to top off his drink. “Scarlet’ll wanna see you, Six. But she’s backstage, checking out the wiring on the new sound system. I think we’ve finally got it set up right.”

“I’ll catch up with her before we leave. We’ll probably crash here tonight.” Six edged the pretzels toward her and took a few. “If Ace hasn’t turned our room into a second nursery already or something.”

“Never,” Lex swore. “It doesn’t matter how far you go, or how long you stay away. This is home.”

“Besides,” Noelle added, sliding in next to Mad. “We just bought the apartment buildings across from the warehouse and we’re going to start fixing them up. We’ll have plenty of room to expand.”

Her hand settled on the curve of her belly, and Mad slung his arm around her shoulders in a fond hug. When Six had first arrived in Sector Four, the constant physical affection had been alien and nerve-wracking. People touched here, all the time. Freely, blithely, as if close proximity to strangers wasn’t a danger.

But that was the point. The O’Kanes weren’t strangers. Bren had been the first person to work his way beneath her personal armor, but as weeks had turned to months and then years, Six had stopped stiffening when Noelle wrapped her in an abrupt hug, or when one of the guys slapped her on the back.

She still wasn’t good at affection. It didn’t come naturally to her, and she didn’t think she’d ever be able to offer hugs and cuddling as easily as some of the O’Kanes did. But she could lean into the warm comfort of Lex’s side, relaxing in the presence of family. “What other gossip have I missed?”

“Things have been quiet.” Lex drew in a slow breath, then exhaled in a quick rush. “I’ll take it. We all need a break.”

Mad knocked his knuckles on the table. “You know better than that, Lex. Don’t tempt fate.”

“Superstitious fucker.” But she was smiling as she swatted at his hand.

“I love you too, Lex.” The first strains of music spilled out of invisible speakers, and Mad broke into a smile. “Scarlet must have figured it out.” He stood and held out his hand. “Who’s going to dance with me?”

Noelle clasped it immediately and maneuvered out of the booth. “Me, while I can still move. This baby’s gonna have his daddy’s height.”

“I’m in.” Lex took his other hand and twirled beneath it to pin Six with a look. “Don’t brood too much tonight. That’s an order.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Six replied, the twitch of her lips threatening to ruin her serious expression.

When they were gone, Six shifted to raise an eyebrow at Emma. “So how is he, really? Ace, I mean.”

“He’s good.” She absently touched the edge of her bandage again. “He’s had to work hard, and he’s still learning to compensate. People think that just because his dominant arm wasn’t injured, it’s no big deal, but he still has to relearn how to do lots of things.” Emma leaned forward. “He’s happy, though. I didn’t think I’d ever see him like this. It’s like someone turned on a light switch.”

“Noah’s the same, you know.” Six smiled at Emma. “We used to cross paths over in Three. He was just this crazy motherfucker who lived in the tunnels and popped out to give dire warnings. Even for Three, he was running on empty. Then he found you again...”

“I didn’t hope,” Emma told her. “I didn’t dare to. But now I know better--he was always going to find me again. It’s just Fate.”

Six thought about the tattoo on Emma’s hip and finally understood. The compass, always pointing north. She’d scavenged a pre-Flare compass once, digging it up out of the wreckage of factory housing. In a world of GPS and personal locators, it had seemed utterly barbaric--but she’d found the floating, quavering needle fascinating. No matter how fast she spun or how much she tried to rattle it, it always swung to point north.

In the first years after the Flares, it hadn’t been true. Whatever magnetic forces made the compasses function had been fucked up by the solar storms. By the time the compasses started working again, most of them had been scrapped and recycled. The people who’d kept believing in their power had ended up with rare treasures highly valued by collectors for their scarcity.

As a kid, Six had only recognized the value of her prize--a week’s worth of food, if she could pawn it without getting robbed first. Now she saw Emma’s quiet faith that the world was always going to right itself and bring Noah back to her, because some things were inevitable. Eternal.

Like her and Bren. “I get it,” Six replied softly. “I never would have said I believe in Fate. The world is choices you make and what other people do because of them. But it felt like every choice I made got me farther from what I wanted...until I ended up here.”

Emma hummed. “Right to what you needed.”

“Mm-hmm. It still took me a while to believe in it. And I had to fight for it.” She shrugged. “Maybe that’s all Fate is. The shit you can’t not do--”

“Oh my God, are you two actually debating philosophy over here?” Nessa thumped against the back of the booth and leaned precariously over it to grab a handful of pretzels. “Emma, I expect this from you, now that you’re filling Ace’s broody artist boots. But Six, I’m betrayed.”

Nessa’s hair tickled Six’s cheek. It was bright pink now, a color that nature had never created, and still smelled vaguely of hair dye. Six shifted to give her room. “Why are you surprised? I sleep with Bren.”

“Oh, is that his kink now?” Nessa leaned closer with her features screwed up into a faux-serious expression. “Hit me harder and then tell me whether free will really exists.”

Six managed to keep from smiling and quirked one eyebrow at her. “Maybe I should tell him you need some extra hand-to-hand training. Then you can discuss free will with him at your pre-dawn workouts.”

Nessa threw up both hands, scattering pretzels in a wild arc. “I surrender!”

“Great, she’s throwing food now.” Emma held out her hand. “Time to dance.”

Six’s boots crunched on the pretzels as she swung out of the booth and pulled Emma after her. The music had rolled into something loud, with a beat meant for movement, which wasn’t stopping Zan and Tatiana from grinding together in a far more primal rhythm.

Nessa collided with Six’s other side, grabbing her free hand and pulling all three of them into the tangle of dancing on a wave of enthusiasm. Six closed her eyes and swayed, trying to catch the music, to think of it like a different kind of sparring. The first few seconds were awkward--they were always awkward--but that was the point of this great joyful jumble of limbs and movement.

She didn’t have to be a good dancer. She just had to have a good time.

At the edge of the dance floor, Dylan and Jyoti were swaying to a rhythm that didn’t match the music, either. But theirs was slow and formal, almost like something you’d see in an old-fashioned pre-Flare movie. Beside them, Scarlet moved like the music was a part of her, something she was creating even though it was blasting from speakers.

Jasper had arrived at some point, sliding behind Noelle to curl one protective arm around her waist, his hand splayed on her stomach. Lex was in front of her, with Mad tight against her side. As Six watched, Mad snagged Scarlet and hauled her into them with a laugh Six could feel, even as the music drowned it out.

People separated and came together. They touched and laughed. Exchanged sweet smiles and filthy ones. Every shift in song seemed to tighten the knot of bodies and raise the heat in the room until Six’s joints felt loose and her limbs fluid. She closed her eyes again, spun--

--and crashed into a familiar wall of muscle. Bren caught her, teasing his hands up her arms as he steadied her. “Having fun?”

She shivered at the brush of his fingers over sensitized skin, drunk on the precious feeling of total freedom. “Of course I am. We’re home.”

“Yes.” He pulled her closer. “We are.”

He always felt good against her, but she’d lived too hard for too long to let herself feel indiscriminately. Bren had always been the one person she couldn’t not feel, the one who found the cracks in her defenses and slid through to wake her up.

It was so much more intense like this, safe in the heart of the O’Kane empire, where she didn’t need any defenses at all.

She twined her hands around his neck and let her head fall back, barely aware of whether they were even moving. Every point of contact sparked through her like an electric jolt--his broad hands on her hips, her tight nipples grazing his chest. His hair under her fingers and his skin beneath her wrists.

“What are we doing tonight?” she whispered, knowing he was the only one who could hear her over the music. “Fast or slow?”

“Slow.” He turned her, still touching her everywhere as he turned her to face away from him, her back against his chest. “We have all night.”

Slow. Their own code, a filthy promise. Fast would have been nice--a swift, hard fuck in the nearest room they could find with a sturdy door--but slow meant pushing each other until the boundaries between teasing and torment blurred, and then reveling in what came after.

Leaning back, Six rested her head on his shoulder and let his arms surround her. His breath teased across her ear as his hand settled on her abdomen, his thumb so close to the bare strip of skin between her jeans and her tank top that she wanted to squirm until he was touching her, skin-to-skin.

But squirming this soon meant giving in. “Who do you think will get naked first?”

“Hard to say. Dallas did rush back, though...so I’m gonna guess Lex has some special plans.” He laughed in her ear, low and hoarse. “Either that, or he just knows his woman well enough to figure she doesn’t pass up good opportunities.”

He tilted his head, nudging hers to the left. Jasper had retreated to a bench with Noelle curled in his lap, and Dallas had joined Scarlet and Lex in their place. The blonde singer was sandwiched between them, her eyes closed and her head tilted back as Lex ran one fingertip down the side of her throat and murmured something to Dallas.

Just watching made Six’s heart beat faster. It always did. She liked watching and she’d stopped trying to figure out why. Noelle could go on for hours trying to tease out the whys and hows of the things that turned her on, but Six had embraced a simpler attitude toward fucking. An O’Kane attitude.

If it got her hot and bothered, it was good.

Jyoti, Dylan, and Mad were standing against the wall, watching even more intently. Dallas turned Scarlet’s face toward them, and she licked her lower lip before sinking her teeth into it. Mad started forward, only to be stopped short by Dylan’s hand at the back of his neck.

Mad’s eyes flared. His body tensed. Six had faced him in the sparring ring enough times to know how swiftly Mad’s deceptive grace could turn lethal, but Dylan wasn’t using strength to subdue him. Just the commanding touch of his fingers--a touch that revealed the game.

Dallas and Lex were teasing him.

“Makes you wonder who’s in charge, doesn’t it?” Bren murmured.

Six had never been good at reading the subtle clues. Dominance wasn’t a clear hierarchy for the O’Kanes. Dallas and Lex might rule, undisputed, at the top, but after that...

Six slid her hand over Bren’s, trying to nudge his thumb higher. “You tell me.”

He slipped his thumb lower, just under the waistband of her jeans instead. “If I had to guess? Dylan. This is their fantasy--Scarlet, Mad, maybe even Jyoti. Dallas and Lex are just along for the ride.”

Mad was a prince of Sector One and one of Dallas’s closest lieutenants. In a crisis, there was no doubt that almost anyone in the room would defer to his orders, especially Dylan. But now, with Scarlet arching under Lex’s fingers, Dylan controlled the other man with a simple touch.

Because sometimes power was as simple as trust.

Six sucked in a breath as Bren’s thumb moved--just a slow stroke back and forth beneath her belly button. His calluses were rough and familiar against her skin, sparking a hot desire that made her squeeze her thighs together.

Their corner of the dance floor was dark. No one would see if his fingers drifted lower. Not like Scarlet, whose skin glowed in the golden light from the bar as Dallas fisted a hand in her tank top and dragged it up. Six couldn’t hear the words he rumbled to Lex, but she smiled slowly, bent her head...and pressed a chaste kiss to Scarlet’s shoulder.

Dallas’s eyes narrowed as he plunged his fingers into Lex’s hair. Six’s scalp tingled in response as he tightened his fist, dragging Lex’s mouth down. She tugged against his grip, then relented with a moan that Scarlet echoed when she drew her tongue across the pale swell of one bare breast.

Scarlet’s moan melted into a gasp as Lex continued downward, only to close not her lips but her teeth on her taut nipple.

Movement beyond them drew Six’s gaze. Mad was leaning forward, his eyes intent. Jyoti leaned into his side with a wicked smile, going up on her toes to whisper something that only made his chest heave.

Six turned her face, rubbing her cheek against Bren’s throat. The slight rasp of stubble shivered through her. “How long can they hold him?”

“Maybe that’s part of the fantasy for him. The denial.”

“Maybe I can relate,” she murmured, nudging his wrist. It didn’t do any good. Bren would move when he was ready to move, and trusting him to set the pace was part of their game. A little hip wiggle reminded her how much he savored that trust--in spite of his rock-solid control, his cock was hard against her ass.

So she wiggled again.

His free hand closed on her hip, stilling her movements with an iron grip.

Six bit her lip to hold back a smile as she turned back to the trio grinding on the dance floor. Scarlet had her eyes squeezed shut and her lips parted as Lex sucked one nipple. Dallas released Lex’s hair and rubbed his thumb over her cheek, tender and then lewd as his thumb edged between her lips.

He brushed the tightened bud as Lex’s tongue flickered over both of them, then shifted to Scarlet’s other nipple and pinched so hard that Scarlet’s moan soared over the music--and Six shuddered in sympathy.

She shifted a little, unable to stop herself from arching. But there was nothing to rub herself against, no way to relieve this sudden ache surreptitiously. “Bren...”

“Hmm?”

She could stand here and watch an orgy form in front of her, but her cheeks still flushed when she had to ask for what she wanted. The words tumbled out on a growl. “I swear to God, if you don’t get your hands on my tits...”

He licked the shell of her ear. “Mine are occupied.” His voice lowered to a rumble. “Use your own.”

Putting on a show wasn’t usually her thing, and banging Bren against the side of the cage on a wave of adrenaline was different than this slow, lazy seduction. But Dallas was sliding Lex’s hand under Scarlet’s skirt now, and no one was looking at Six and Bren as they swayed on the darkened edge of the dance floor.

Shuddering in a breath, Six slid her hands up under her shirt, over bare flesh, and soothed the throbbing ache with gentle pressure.

Lex lifted her head and brushed a delicate kiss to Scarlet’s open mouth. She leaned in immediately, chasing something deeper, but Lex turned the woman’s face toward Dallas instead. Dallas’s kiss was rougher--scraping teeth and low laughter when Lex’s arm flexed and Scarlet groaned into his mouth.

They were building a moment for Scarlet, working together with perfect silent coordination--and absolute awareness of their audience. As Lex sank to her knees, she gave Mad an uninhibited view of Scarlet’s trembling body. Dylan had his fingers tangled in Mad’s hair now, and Jyoti stroked his chest, her brown eyes locked on the sight of Lex shoving Scarlet’s skirt up.

“Breathe.” Bren’s hand inched lower--not low enough, but closer to touching her pussy. “You don’t want to pass out just as things are getting good.”

Six sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. The music throbbed through her, echoing the solid thud of her heart. With Lex a mere heartbeat away from getting her tongue inside Scarlet, Six knew no one would be watching them. Her head still spun as she brought her thumbs and forefingers together, pinching her nipples until the sharp sting of it cut through the pleasure. “Oh, fuck...”

“Shh.” His lips grazed her ear again, this time lingering to whisper softly. “Don’t rush it. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Still breathing raggedly, she slid her hands down and behind her, gripping his hips until the world steadied. Pain might take the overwhelming edge off of pleasure, but with Bren wrapped around her, she didn’t have to run from it.

She could embrace it.

Trusting him to hold her, she opened her eyes again--and nearly groaned.

Lex wasn’t fucking around. Even on her knees she owned Scarlet, using her fingers and tongue to drive the other woman crazy. Scarlet’s hips tried to buck, but Dallas locked an arm across her abdomen, keeping her skirt out of the way and holding her helpless for Lex’s attentions. His other hand gripped her throat, forcing her to stare at Mad across the space separating them, his lips moving against her ear, speaking words that Six had no doubt were so filthy, they’d make devils blush.

Two months ago, Bren had brought home a crossbow. A real pre-Flare artifact. Six couldn’t imagine she’d be packing it in place of her pistol anytime soon, but there’d been something hypnotic about watching Bren’s hands as he worked the crank, each small movement increasing the tension and contributing to the moment when he pulled the trigger and the bolt slammed through the sheet of metal they’d set up against their target.

Dallas and Lex were working the same magic. Every touch, every lick, every whisper--but Scarlet wasn’t the only one they were twisting tighter. The tension around Mad was electric now, and Six wanted to hold her breath again, wait for the moment they let him fly.

It started with a shocked cry. Scarlet’s hands clenched and unclenched at her sides, and her head fell back on Dallas’s shoulder. She rocked her hips, riding Lex’s fingers and tongue as a tense shudder wracked her whole body. It went on and on until she opened her eyes, dazed and still trembling, and fixed her gaze on her three lovers.

Mad rocked forward. Jyoti released him, but Dylan kept his hand where it was, holding him still until Mad’s lips parted on a word Six could feel in her bones.

Please.

Dylan groaned and let go. Mad stumbled forward a step before falling into a gliding stalk, and Lex barely had time to twist out of the way before Mad was on them. He didn’t stop, didn’t hesitate--he crashed into Scarlet, crushing her back against Dallas as he seized her mouth in a bruising kiss.

She clung to him, moaning into his mouth as she dragged his T-shirt up. He broke away to haul it over his head, and Scarlet wrapped her arms and legs around him, as if the only substitute for his lips on hers was to have their bodies pressed together just as tightly.

It was Lex who reached around Mad to unbuckle his belt. Mad angled his hips to give her more room without releasing Scarlet’s mouth, the movement so smooth and instinctive that Six wondered who was usually responsible for getting Mad out of his jeans when he was out of his head and trying to fuck Scarlet against the nearest hard surface.

This time, that hard surface happened to be Dallas. The king of Sector Four widened his stance, turning himself into a wall. One hand slid down Scarlet’s thigh to hook under her knee, pulling it up and out as he murmured something against her ear. Lex freed Mad’s cock and wrapped her hand around it, fingers stroking as she pressed her lips to the spot between his shoulder blades.

Mad broke away from Scarlet’s lips, his head falling back. His entire body shuddered. Dallas gripped Scarlet’s other leg, his body rigid as he held her in place, held her open--

Six felt Mad’s first thrust in her bones. The desperation behind it, the naked relief as he sank into her. She tightened her grip on Bren’s hips, pulling him tighter against her ass. “Bren.”

His hand slipped lower, lower, until he finally reached slick, aroused flesh.

The pleasure was hot and immediate. Overwhelming. Her hips bucked in his grip, an involuntary movement. She turned her face into his throat and panted for breath as one rough fingertip circled her clit.

She could come like this. In the shadows on the dance floor, biting back moans, invisible as everyone watched Mad fuck Scarlet into next week. Bren knew just how to touch her to crank tension higher--slow and indirect, working his fingers lower until one dipped inside her.

It was so good like this. Furtive, his hand hampered by her jeans. Not too easy, not too exposed. Right on the edge of illicit.

“This is what it should be,” he whispered. “Doesn’t matter who’s part of it, or for how long. Right now, everyone’s getting exactly what they fucking want.”

She knew that looking would overwhelm her, but she couldn’t stop herself. She forced her eyes open and bit her lip at the sight of Mad gripping Dallas’s shoulders to brace himself as he drove into Scarlet. Dallas stared past him, his gaze locked on Lex’s, silent promise clear in the slow curve of his lips.

Lex was still watching him as she jerked Mad’s head to the side and bit the spot where his neck curved into his shoulder.

Dallas’s eyes glinted in approval. This was their favorite kind of foreplay--granting fantasies like some sort of obscene gods of debauchery. They could be generous with the fire they generated because the two of them sparked so fucking bright. They’d probably fall into their bed and fuck until dawn.

Which sounded like a good idea, actually. “Bren...”

“Not yet.” He thrust another finger into her and rocked his hand. “First, I want this.”

The heel of his hand ground down against her clit just right, and pleasure jolted up her spine and arced all the way to her fingertips. Her toes curled in her boots as she squirmed against him, trying to escape the immediacy of his touch.

But there was no escape. Not for the release building low inside her, and not from the eroticism unfolding before her. Even the music couldn’t drown out Scarlet’s cries now, and every time Six tried to close her eyes, a fresh moan dragged her attention back to tangle of clutching hands and thrusting bodies.

Bren’s quickened breath fell hot against her ear. His cock ground against her ass, a reminder of how good he’d feel when they were back in their room. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to wait once they got there. Maybe he’d slam her back against the wall and drive deep, fucking her with Mad’s lack of control.

Or maybe he’d hold on. Stretch his patience to the breaking point. See just how far they could go before he snapped.

Six didn’t care, as long as he snapped. Because Bren only lost control with her.

“Soon.” A single word, a promise that turned into a vow as his teeth closed on her earlobe.

And she only lost control with Bren.

The orgasm didn’t slam into her. It unfolded with agonizing slowness, first the blooming heat where his hand rocked in a demanding rhythm. Then the tremors--her thighs, her arms. She teetered on the edge, watching it come up at her forever, knowing she wouldn’t be able to hold in her moan.

She didn’t have to. Bren released her hip and folded his fingers over her mouth, muffling her groan of gratitude. Muffling the sound she made when her body clenched around his fingers and the first wave of release shuddered through her.

He panted against her ear, hot, hitching breaths that rose and fell in time with the throbbing pleasure. His fingers edged between her parted lips. She closed her teeth on one to keep from screaming, then wanted to scream all over again when he hissed at the pain and ground his cock against her.

Giddy triumph made her head swim. It was going to be one of those nights. The sweet, dangerous nights that ended with both of them sweaty and wrung out and too sated to move. Where the only thing more intense than Bren’s need for dominance was his need for pain.

Dizzy in the aftershocks of her orgasm, Six soothed the bite with the tip of her tongue. And just as he was relaxing behind her, she bit him again--sharp, rough, and challenging.

His body stiffened against her. The heel of his hand ground against her clit, shifting the sweet aftershocks to spiky pleasure. She rolled her hips, urging him on as her teeth clenched tight, knowing he’d punish her impertinence with another bone-melting orgasm right there on the dance floor.

She didn’t care. Tonight, punishment was all part of the game.

»»» § «««

His room looked the same--the single high window, the block walls, the narrow bed placed precisely in the center of the floor against the far wall. But it didn’t feel the same. Instead of a small prison cell he’d crafted to contain an even smaller life, it was a refuge. A place that would always be here for him when he needed it.

He wasn’t alone anymore.

Six’s fingers tightened around his as she kicked the door shut and leaned back against it. She was still flushed, relaxed and languorous, even though anticipation glinted in her eyes.

She was beautiful.

Bren smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She tugged slightly, pulling him closer. When his body brushed hers, she released his hand and slid both of hers under his shirt, slowly pushing it up his chest. “You’re stupidly patient tonight. You know you could have been in me a half hour ago.”

“I have other plans.” The sensation of her fingers sliding over his skin was almost enough to convince him to abandon those plans--almost. He could push their clothes out of the way and hoist her against the door. It would be good. It would be mindblowing.

But they could make it better.

Her lips tilted up in a slow smile. Her nails scored his chest, so hard that he’d have marks in the morning.

He wanted them. But he wanted other marks, too.

He gripped her wrists in his fists. “What do you think?”

“I think you want pain.” She rocked up on her toes, trapping their arms between their bodies, her lips so close he could taste her words. “I think you want to tell me exactly how to hurt you.”

She was still learning her way around all the tools tucked away in the chest at the foot of his bed. She was comfortable with the lighter, more supple floggers, but she was still unsure about using anything that delivered a sharper kiss of pain.

Sometimes, he needed that kiss, so they’d find Ace and ask him to continue the lessons he’d started. But tonight, Bren just needed her, sure and confident, absolutely certain that she could get him there.

“The suede,” he rasped. “You know the one.”

She brushed his lips, soft and sweet and gone before he could deepen the touch. She slipped past him, already stripping her shirt over her head. She let the fabric drop across the table, revealing her back to him--her scars gloriously complemented by the tattoo Ace had given her.

Instead of opening the chest, she braced one foot on it and tugged at the laces on her boot. But by bit, she peeled off the rest of her clothes. Then she knelt, naked and unashamed, by the chest. Her movements were slow and confident as she pushed open the cover and lifted the flogger he’d requested out. “Where do you want me?”

“On me.” He drew his shirt over his head, then reached for his belt.

“Wait.” She flowed to her feet, leaving the flogger on the foot of the bed. Then she prowled to him, heat in her eyes as she gripped the leather and slid it out of the clasp. “Let me.”

She tugged his belt free, then dropped to his feet and began untying the laces on his boots. It was so much like that first time that Bren sank his fingers into her hair and pulled gently.

So many things had changed since then, but this would always be the same. The way his body stirred at her touch, and the way his heart pounded when she looked up at him, utter trust shining in her eyes.

She removed his boots and socks, tossing them away into the shadows. Her fingers traveled up the outsides of his legs with teasing slowness as she pressed her cheek against his fly, where his cock strained against the fabric. “Wanna take the edge off?” she murmured, peeking up at him. “I don’t want you to blow the first time I hit you.”

Oh, but she loved teasing him. “No faith in your man’s self-control?”

Six laughed and popped the button on his jeans. “We’ll see who comes first.”

His jeans hit the pile of clothes in the corner, and Six rose slowly, rubbing her body against his. Bren gritted his teeth and wound his fingers tighter, pulling her hair. “Do it,” he whispered.

He stretched out on the bed as Six reached for the flogger again. She let the wickedly pointed falls trail up his legs, a tickling sensation that quickly vanished as she braced herself and brought the suede down across the tops of his thighs in a gentle slap.

It wasn’t the hard bite of pain, heavy and demanding, that usually got him going. This was more like a soft heat that flared and then washed outward, warming his skin with anticipation.

She did it again, and again, her face fierce with concentration and her hand steady. Ace was a skilled teacher, and Six had been an apt student. She knew where she could hit him, and how hard. She knew when to fall into a hypnotic rhythm that built that heat into a quiet flame, and when to break the pattern, startling him with a sharp jolt that arched his back and cut off his breath.

He burned. The suede wasn’t heavy, but the repeated blows left his skin sensitive. He hissed in a breath when she climbed over him, settling on his thighs as she stroked the suede over his cock, teasing it around the pierced crown. “Hi,” she murmured, voice teasing.

He laid his hands on her knees and let his nails bite into her skin, just a little. “Uh-huh.”

“You said you wanted me on you.” She inched up, letting the falls trail up his abdomen as she settled with the slick heat of her pussy grinding down against his erection. “Is this what you want?”

Yes. The slightest shift of his fingers, and he had them wrapped around the backs of her knees. He pulled her closer, until the head of his cock nudged that slick heat.

She shuddered and eased her hips up, rubbing back and forth. “Do it. Take what you want, and I’ll give you what you need.”

He slid his hands to her waist and arched, thrusting up into her as he dragged her down. She let out a rough curse, the flogger dropping to his chest as she clutched at his arms. Her nails bit into his skin, and she swore again as their hips collided, leaving him buried deep in the tight heat of her body.

“Fuck,” she whispered, shuddering on top of him. “Nothing else feels like this. Nothing feels like you.”

She stilled, his body buried inside hers. Neither of them was soft or easy, but he was learning to appreciate the beauty of these moments. Like the suede, it didn’t have to be hard to be intense.

He let her drag in one more shaky breath, then clenched his shaking hands on her hips. “Now.”

Obedient to his command, she picked up the flogger. Her hips shifted, testing his grip--and she shivered when he tightened his fingers, trapping her in place. Her gaze locked with his, hot and ready.

And she swung.

The tails thudded across his chest, striking his right nipple. His cock jerked as sharp, stinging pain wreathed him, then subsided in an adrenaline-fueled haze of hunger. “Again.”

She hit the other side of his chest, just as precisely. “How far do you want to go tonight?”

With anyone else, even people like Ace that he trusted with his life, the answer was always the same--not too far. But with Six...

There was no such thing.

“All the way,” he rasped. “As high as you can take me, sweetness.”

Six leaned over him, her hair swinging past her shoulders to tickle his face as she brushed her lips across his in a soft kiss. “I love you,” she whispered against his mouth, then retreated before he could deepen the kiss.

Her first real blow streaked fire through him. She was careful to keep the flogger falling on the more muscled parts of his chest and shoulders, but even the most precise arc couldn’t control the little bits of leather that reached out. They bit at his neck and his sternum, every strike glowing hotly.

Bren fell into it, embracing not just the pain, but the gleam of satisfaction in her dark, dark eyes as he began to jerk beneath her, tensing and relaxing until his whole body was thrumming. Throbbing.

Clenching, just like her pussy every time he groaned. Six might never share his appreciation for pain, or develop Ace’s feverish devotion to delivering it--but knowing Bren enjoyed it was enough.

But even with her body betraying her arousal with every furtive shift of her hips, her focus remained total. She watched his face as she slowed her pace, each blow falling harder. Hurting deeper.

It didn’t hit him fast, but it hit him hard. Overwhelming him in the truest, purest sense, like sinking into hot water. Surrounded and never wanting to come up for air. Bren’s fingers bit into her thighs, and he held on to her as she continued raining blows on him--it could have been an hour or mere moments, fractions of heartbeats. A lifetime. His sense of time had been stripped away along with everything else, and all he knew was Six.

That was what dragged him back, knowing that she would take him as far as he wanted to go, but she’d never forgive herself if she hurt him.

He reached up and caught her wrist as it swung down. Wordlessly, she dropped the flogger. She braced her hands on either side of his head, careful to keep her weight off his tender skin as she dipped her head and brushed a kiss to his lips. “You with me, Bren?”

“I’m here.” Then, to prove it, he rolled them and pinned her to the bed. “Always.”

She flexed her wrists in his grip, then wrapped her legs around his hips. “Show me. Fuck me.”

Any other time, and he might have teased her, drawing out the pleasure just as she’d drawn out the pain, until they were both insensate, desperate.

He was already desperate. With his first rough thrust, he plunged his fingers into her hair and his tongue between her lips, anything to be closer, deeper. She welcomed him--tilting her head to meet his kiss and moaning at the resulting pull against her hair. Her legs tightened around him, her heels digging into his back, urging him forward.

“I’ll fuck you.” The words came without thought, with no filters left between his mouth and the most primal part of his brain. “Do you know why?”

“Tell me.”

“Because you’re mine.” Every inch of her, every breath. She was a strong woman--her own woman--and that was why he could lay claim to her. Because he didn’t have to hold her down or control her to own her.

Her nails raked across his back, bright little lines of pain that reignited his nerves. “I’m yours,” she agreed, panting. “But only because you’re mine.”

He didn’t just hear the words, he felt them, little shocks that zipped up his spine with every breathy syllable. He let go of her hair to tilt her hips, then fucked her faster, driving his cock over her G-spot until she convulsed beneath him. “Oh fuck, oh fuck--”

She turned her face into his neck, her breath hot. Her pussy clenched around his cock, impossibly tight, and her teeth sank into his shoulder, muffling her helpless moan as orgasm took her. No fucking force on earth could have kept him from following her, and he bit her in return as he came inside her.

They lay there--gasping for breath, locked in the moment--until Bren realized he was crushing her. He rolled away, only to have Six follow him, rolling onto him with a sleepy murmur before she froze and slid away again. “Shit, sorry,” she whispered, lifting a hand to marks on his chest. Her touch was gentle, but even the careful brush of her fingers stung.

“It’s okay.” He pulled her closer, her flushed skin cool against his. “I like it. It feels real.”

She relaxed back against him and stroked his hair back from his forehead. “You went pretty high.”

“Not too far. No crash.”

Her thumb found his lower hip and smoothed slowly back and forth. “I still get to take care of you. It’s in the rules. I’ll tattle to Ace if you argue with me.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” He caught her chin and directed her gaze to his. “I’m square. It was perfect.”

“Yeah, it was.” She turned to kiss his fingertips. “I just like taking care of you. I wasn’t kidding, Donnelly. You’re mine.”

She was looking at him like he was all she’d ever need, and it sparked another kind of heat, one edged with determination. They took care of each other, and that went far beyond the bedroom.

So he had to ask. “Are you worried about the cafeteria?”

“A little.” She settled her head on his shoulder. “I know we can get it set up. We have the space, the supplies. Lex told me that even if people don’t show up, we can go to them. We can figure it out.”

But being patient was hard as hell, especially when it came to kids going hungry instead of accepting help. “Trust is hard-won. But I think we’ve made a good start.”

“Yeah.” She snuggled closer to him, her hand coming to rest on his chest again. “Do you think Daniel will bring the others when he comes to get his gun?”

“Probably.” If it were just Daniel, he might retrieve his weapon and hit the road, never to be seen again. But Bren had a feeling he’d keep coming back, if only for younger kids’ sakes. It could take weeks or months to convince Daniel that they were on the level, but it would happen.

It had to.