Chapter 5: Morning After Revelations
Consciousness returned to Lilah in soft, warm layers. The first was scent: cedar, clean cotton, a faint trace of masculine skin. The second was sound: the deep, even rhythm of Nathan’s breathing behind her ear, the lighter, almost silent inhale-exhale from Jace spooned against her back. The third was the golden, dusty light cutting through the slats of the blinds, painting tiger-stripes across the rumpled duvet and her own bare shoulder.
She was nestled in the valley between them, Nathan’s heavy arm draped possessively across her waist, his hand splayed low on her stomach. Jace’s front was fused to her back, his breath a warm puff against her spine. Every muscle in her body felt pleasantly liquefied, a deep, satisfying ache humming in her core.
She blinked, the events of the previous night reassembling in her mind with startling, visceral clarity. The wine. The kiss. The cool precision of Nathan’s bedroom. The sacred, desperate words. The way they had moved around and within her, a chaotic, perfect symmetry. A flush of heat that had nothing to do with the morning sun spread across her chest.
Jace stirred first. She felt the exact moment he woke; his breathing hitched, then deepened. His lips brushed a sleepy, open-mouthed kiss against the knob of her spine. His hand, which had been curled loosely near her chin, slid down, fingers tracing a slow, exploratory path along her ribcage.
“Mmm,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. “You’re still here.”
“Where else would I be?” she whispered, the words cracking.
“Could’ve panicked. Done a midnight flit.” His lips traveled up to the nape of her neck. “Glad you didn’t.”
Behind her, Nathan’s arm tightened minutely, pulling her closer into the solid wall of his chest. He didn’t speak, but she felt him wake, a conscious awareness settling into his limbs.
Jace’s hand continued its lazy journey, skating over her hip, down the outside of her thigh, then back up along the inner seam. His touch was a question. He shifted, his body aligning more deliberately against hers, and she became acutely aware of his erection pressing against her lower back.
“Morning, Nathan,” Jace said, a smile in his voice.
A low, non-committal grunt was the reply from behind her. Nathan’s hand on her stomach slid lower, his fingers combing through the curls between her thighs. The contact was shockingly intimate in the bright, ordinary morning light.
Jace nipped at her shoulder. “Think our neighbor could use a proper wake-up call.”
Nathan’s fingers dipped, just slightly, finding her soft and already slick from sleep and their combined heat. A rough, approving sound vibrated against her back. “Seems receptive.”
Lilah’s breath caught. The casual, shared assessment—the clinical yet hungry tone—sent a fresh jolt of arousal straight through her. She was laid bare between them, physically and otherwise, with no cover of darkness or wine to blame.
“No escaping now,” Nathan growled into her hair, his voice thick with sleep and intent. His fingers began a slow, circling motion that made her hips jerk.
Jace chuckled, the sound wicked and warm against her skin. “Round two, neighbor?” His own hand came around, mirroring Nathan’s path from the front, his fingers joining the slow, teasing exploration. “Or is it round three? I lost count.”
The dual touch was overwhelming, a masterclass in coordination. Nathan focused on the steady, building pressure, while Jace’s touch was lighter, skimming, unpredictable. She was completely held, completely known. She arched back against Jace and pressed into Nathan’s hand, a helpless sound escaping her.
“That’s a yes,” Jace interpreted, nipping at her earlobe.
Nathan shifted, rolling her slightly onto her back so he could loom over her, his grey eyes capturing hers in the morning light. He looked softer, somehow, the lines of his face relaxed, but the intensity was still there, banked like hot coals. He kissed her, deep and languid, a claiming that felt different from the night before—less desperate, more assured.
As he kissed her, Jace moved. He slid down the bed, his hands pushing her thighs apart, and replaced their fingers with his mouth.
Lilah cried out against Nathan’s lips. The sensation was too sharp, too direct after the gentle teasing. Her hands flew to Nathan’s shoulders, gripping hard.
Nathan broke the kiss, watching her face. “Yellow?” he asked, his voice a gravelly whisper.
She shook her head frantically, beyond words. “No. No, it’s…” She swallowed. “Just a lot.”
“We’ve got you,” he said, and it wasn’t just reassurance, it was a fact.
Jace hummed against her, the vibration ricocheting through her entire system. His hands held her hips firm, his tongue laving a relentless, perfect rhythm. Nathan dipped his head to capture a pebbled nipple in his mouth, his suckling gentle counterpoint to the intense focus below.
It was a shorter, sharper climb this time, stripped of the previous night’s nervous novelty. It was just pure, stunning sensation. The coil wound tight in her belly, sparked by the dual assault. She shattered quickly, violently, a wordless shout tearing from her throat as her back bowed off the bed.
Nathan held her through it, whispering praises into her skin. “Beautiful. Look at you. So perfect.”
As the waves receded, Jace crawled back up her body, kissing his way up her sternum, her throat, finally claiming her mouth. She could taste herself on him, a raw, intimate flavor that should have been shocking but felt only like belonging.
Nathan moved then, rolling onto his back and pulling her astride him. He guided himself into her with a firm, steady hand, filling her with a deep, full ache that drew a ragged gasp from her lungs. She braced her hands on his chest, her head falling forward.
Jace settled behind her on his knees, his chest to her back, his arms wrapping around her to cup her breasts. “Ride him, Lilah,” he urged into her ear, his voice dark with want. “Let us watch you move.”
She began to rock, tentative at first, then bolder as Nathan’s hands gripped her hips, his eyes blazing up at her. Jace’s fingers found her clit, rubbing tight, insistent circles in time with her rhythm.
It was too much. It was everything. The sunlight, the sweat-slicked skin, the unfiltered greed in their eyes as they watched her come apart. She was a conduit for their shared desire, and the power of it was intoxicating. She chased her own pleasure this time, driving down onto Nathan, meeting Jace’s frantic fingers, letting the sounds spill from her lips without censorship.
Nathan’s controlled façade shattered first. With a guttural groan, his hips pistoned upward, driving into her with a final, deep thrust as he found his release, his fingers digging into her flesh hard enough to leave marks.
Jace followed seconds after, his body going rigid against her back, his cry muffled in her shoulder as he spent himself against the small of her back.
The silence that followed was broken only by their labored breathing. Lilah collapsed forward onto Nathan’s chest, a boneless heap. Jace slumped beside them, one arm thrown across her legs.
For a long time, no one spoke. Nathan’s heart thundered against her ear. Sunlight warmed the patch of skin between her shoulder blades.
Then, Jace let out a breathless laugh. “Well. Good morning indeed.”
Nathan’s hand came up, his fingers stroking through her tangled curls. “Alright?” he asked, his voice raspy.
She nodded against his chest. “Mhm.” It was all she could manage.
Her phone, buried somewhere in the discarded pile of her clothes on the floor, began to ring. The default trill was a sudden, brutal slice of reality.
Lilah froze. Nathan’s hand stilled in her hair.
It rang again, insistent.
“You should get that,” Jace said, his tone light but edged with something. “Might be work.”
It was. She knew the tone. She pushed herself up, her body protesting every movement. Nathan let her go, his eyes watchful. She stumbled to the pile, digging through sweater and leggings until she found the buzzing device.
Unknown Number. Likely dispatch.
She swiped accept. “Hart.”
“Lilah, it’s Roy from Station 12. We’ve got a multi-vehicle MVA on the I-90 bridge. Mandatory call-back. Can you be here in twenty?”
She closed her eyes, the last vestiges of warmth leaching from her skin. “Yeah. Yes. I’m on my way.”
She ended the call and stood naked in the middle of the room, the clinical voice of duty washing over her like a cold tide. The room, the bed, the two men watching her—it all seemed like a dream already fading.
“I have to go,” she said, not looking at them. “There’s a bad accident.”
She moved mechanically, pulling on her clothes. The fabric felt alien against her sensitized skin. Neither man spoke. Nathan sat up against the headboard, the sheet pooled at his waist, his expression unreadable. Jace watched her, propped on an elbow, his usual smile absent.
When she was dressed, her hair finger-combed into some semblance of order, she finally faced them. The distance across the room felt like a canyon.
“Last night…” she started, then shook her head. “This morning… I don’t…”
Nathan swung his legs out of bed, standing in a fluid, naked motion. He crossed the space to her, cutting off her fractured words. He didn’t touch her. He just looked down at her, his gaze sweeping over her face, as if memorizing it.
“Go do your job,” he said, his voice quiet. “We’ll be here.”
Three simple words. They held no demand, no pressure. Just a statement of fact.
Jace got up too, coming to stand beside Nathan. He leaned in and pressed a soft, surprisingly chaste kiss to her temple. “Be safe out there.”
The normalcy of it, the care in it, undid her more than any passionate kiss ever could. Her throat tightened. She nodded, unable to speak, and turned for the door.
As her hand touched the cool metal of the knob, Nathan spoke again.
“Lilah.”
She glanced back.
His eyes held hers, the morning light turning them to silver. “Your ‘yellow’,” he said. “We heard it. Even though you didn’t say it. We’ll always be listening for it.”
A tremor ran through her. He’d seen her, truly seen her, even in her silence. She gave one more curt nod and slipped out into the stark, empty brightness of the loft, the smell of them still on her skin, the promise of their presence a glowing coal in the center of her chest as she ran headlong into the brutal day.