Kyle

I run a hand through my hair for the tenth time in the past hour, reading through the reports sent by Paula, my new assistant. During Brooke’s recovery, I started working from my home office, needing to stay as close to her as possible. Seth and Raffi also reduced their schedules, and we spent the first month practically untouched at home.

We split our time between taking care of our woman and hunting down the bastards who hurt her. Unfortunately for us, they remain out of reach, but we won’t give up until they pay. However, over time, our responsibilities started to catch up with us. Raffi had to resume his classes, since we didn’t have a suitable replacement for the sniper course. The frustration from our search pushed Seth back to Tristan’s tattoo studio almost every afternoon.

My phone rings, pulling me away from the spiral of worries that constantly lives in my brain.
"Thorne."
"Hi, boss," Paula greets me on the other end of the line. "You asked me to remind you about the shareholders’ meeting on Thursday."
"That’s this week already?" I ask, checking the calendar.
"Yes, at 2:00 PM. Sergeant Jefferson called again. Apparently, he’s under the impression that you’re ignoring him. I explained you’re very busy and will return his calls as soon as possible."

I let out a short laugh before replying, imagining my former superior’s expression after being dismissed so bluntly.
"And he accepted that?"
"I didn’t give him room to argue."

As the daughter of military personnel, Paula grew up surrounded by men used to being obeyed. But with three older brothers who also pursued military careers, she had learned to handle them with excellence.
"I can imagine," I reply, shaking my head as I glance at the half-finished text on my computer screen. "I was about to email you the instructions for the new recruits and the list of those selected for the three new jobs starting next week."
"Would you rather tell me over the phone?" she asks. I hear typing in the background.
"No, no. It’s almost done," I inform her. "Do I have anything on my schedule today?"
"Nothing today, sir."
"Great," I say, checking the time and seeing it’s just 1:30 PM. "I’ll send you the email in the next few minutes and take the rest of the afternoon off. You know how to reach me in case of emergency."
"Yes, sir," she replies promptly. "Have a good day."

As soon as I hit “send” on the email to my assistant, my phone screen lights up with notifications from what used to be the Hades’ Men admin group, which lately had become the place where my brothers and I discussed Brooke.

Raffi had sent a screenshot of the tide forecast for Pleasure Point, followed by a message.
Raffi: Waves will be good today.
Raffi: It’s a good day to convince B. to go out.
Seth: It would be good for her.
Raffi: Take her, Kyle! Put her in the car and take her to the beach.

I type my response, feeling my irritation build with every letter. It was the same damn thing every day.
Kyle: She doesn’t want to! She doesn’t want to leave the house. And if she doesn’t want to, she won’t. Simple as that.

I didn’t doubt for even a second the depth of the feelings they had for her, but I couldn’t understand why they were trying so hard to get her out of the house. She was safe here. Nothing could reach her inside these gates. We had tripled our security over the past two months, all to ensure her protection.

Not that Brooke was a prisoner—far from it. She was free to do whatever she pleased. But after everything she went through, the last thing I could think of was forcing her to do something she didn’t want. Of course, the fact that she preferred to stay home helped calm my anxiety. On nights when I lost the game of rock-paper-scissors and had to sleep alone, I always woke in a panic, terrified that she’d been taken from me again.

As if that weren’t stressful enough, there was the damn stalker and his deafening silence. Since the note, right after Brooke returned home, there had been no new contact or attempt to deliver more gifts. I didn’t know if the pause was to give her time to recover or some miraculous sign that he had given up. Which didn’t seem likely.

We were going through every person in Brooke’s life with a fine-tooth comb. I felt like a jerk for even suspecting Olivia, but I wasn’t willing to take chances. We checked all Brooke’s coworkers, our staff, everyone she had ever interacted with.

Then a message came in, accusatory in tone.
Raffi: You didn’t even ask her.
Kyle: I don’t need to. The day she wants to, she’ll say so.
Seth: Kyle...
Kyle: She’s healing, in her own time. When she’s ready, she’ll just go. There’s no point in rushing her.

I reply and lock my phone, seeing my blonde’s smiling face on the screen. It’s a photo from before. Before her easy smile was stolen. Before she went to hell and back. Before I failed to protect her.

The need to hold her in my arms pushes me to get up and look for her around the house. After checking that Brooke isn’t in the kitchen, I walk to the living room. Her faithful protectors lift their heads when they hear my steps and look at me before turning back to watch her. She hasn’t noticed me yet, reading something on her Kindle.

Her distraction gives me a rare opportunity to watch her without her feeling scrutinized. I quickly catalog how the shadows under her eyes are more pronounced, how her face looks thinner, but it’s her eyes—always her eyes—that make my heart ache. There’s a devastation in them that shreds me, because no matter how hard I try, I can’t drive it away. Not completely.

I thought I knew pain in the war—when I was shot, stabbed, and beaten—but when Brooke was taken, I met a new kind of pain. Something that chilled me to the core, an agony that drove me to act.
"What’s today’s read?" I ask, startling her, making her drop the device in her lap and clutch her chest. Cerberus barks like he’s scolding me, quickly followed by the other two dogs.
"You scared me, Ky! I didn’t even hear you come in," she complains and smiles—or tries to. Her lips curve, but the feeling doesn’t reach her eyes. I lean down and kiss her temple before sitting beside her on the couch, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close, needing the contact to remind myself this is real. She’s really home.

Brooke fits perfectly in my arms, like she was made to be there.
"So, what book is that?" I repeat, nodding at the device showing the cover of a football player.
"I’m halfway through. Liv recommended it. It’s by a Brazilian author, Camila Cocenza, about a football player and a journalist." She shrugs.
"And are you liking it?"
"I’m learning a few things," she says, looking away, a light blush spreading over her cheeks and sparking my curiosity.
"About football?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at her.
"Not exactly."
"Oh, really?" I grip her waist and pull her onto my lap, her legs wrapping around my hips. "And what exactly are you learning?"

Brooke looks up at me, and with a mischievous smile, presses her lips to mine.

The kiss starts slow, but the first touch of her tongue against mine is enough to unleash the desire I feel for her. My hands move to her ass, squeezing and pressing her against me, our tongues clashing in a battle where we both win. Brooke bites and sucks on my lower lip, grinding against my cock in a sinful rhythm, erasing every thought except the visceral need to have her.
"What do you say you teach me what you’ve learned?"

She grabs the hem of her shirt, biting her lower lip before pulling it off, revealing the black bra I quickly move to remove. My mouth closes around her pink nipple, and Brooke gasps, pressing her body even closer to mine. One of my hands massages her other breast, and the moan that escapes her lips only makes me harder.

Brooke’s hands take off my shirt, tracing the contours of my muscles in a light caress that sends shivers across my skin. I lean in to find her mouth again, but the blonde pulls back, standing in front of me. Her fingers work on the button of her denim shorts, but a low growl from one of the dogs reminds us of their presence.

"One second," she asks, turning to them and pointing to the door, and just like that, the three of them get up and leave the room. Impressive, they always seem in tune with her. "Where was I?" she asks, turning back to me, and my hands grab her waist, pulling her closer, my fingers sliding along the waistband of her shorts. "Oh, right."

She slowly pulls down the zipper, my eyes locked on her movements. Brooke doesn’t prolong my suffering and removes her panties, kicking both pieces away. My erection demands freedom, and I waste no time stripping off my pants and boxers. The blonde stares at my body with desire clear in her expression, licking her lips when her gaze falls on my cock.

Holy fuck, my woman is gorgeous.

"Come here," I say, lying back on the couch. Brooke moves closer to my waist when I pull her hand. She looks at me, confused.

"Sit here," I ask, smiling.

"Kyle..."

"I want to taste you, Sunshine."

Her cheeks flush red, but she leans in, seeming to think about how to fulfill my request. So I grip her hips and guide her over me, her knees on either side of my head.

I slide my tongue between her lips, her sweet taste filling my mouth, and her moan makes my cock throb. My arms wrap around her thighs, holding her down against my face.

I alternate between licking and sucking, giving her clit the attention I know she loves. Brooke starts grinding on my face, her arousal soaking my beard, her moans growing louder as she gets closer to her climax.

"I'm gonna cum," she announces, as if I couldn't tell from the way her thighs are squeezing my head like they want to keep me there—but there's nowhere else I’d rather be. Brooke explodes over me, and I drink every last drop of her release.

When I feel her breathing slow, I let go of her legs, and she slides down my body, leaving a wet trail in her wake. She stops on my abdomen, so close yet still so far from my cock, which is aching for her pussy.

"That was even better than usual," she whispers, leaning down and kissing me with pure desire.

"I agree, and I’m glad—pleasing you is my mission," I declare, and it’s nothing but the truth. "But I’m not done with you yet."

"I thought I was the one supposed to teach you today," she teases.

"The day’s just getting started."