Come Out Swinging (Reach for the Moon Book 2) by Sam Hall (sight word readers TXT) 📕

probably be the best thing for her right now. Gallows humour was better than none. But as we rolled out of town, I hated feeling like we were running away with our tails between our legs. I hated the pain Bridget had been forced to endure, and the stuff surely to come. I hated leaving the district under a cloud, again, to run away to the city, again. I hated I was right back where I started in some ways.

But I also hated that I wasn’t. Mason’s eyes flicked to the rear vision mirror, catching quick glimpses of Micah, Declan, and me. I hated Micah’s hand on my knee, drawing small circles on the skin, my focus barely able to move away from that small gesture, wondering if or when he was going to move it farther up my thigh. I hated that Declan had folded up a towel under me, gesturing for me to sit on it with a smirk before latching my seat belt like I was a child. I hated the press of their bodies, the scent of them that made my bones liquid. I hated that no matter how much pain my cousin was going through, my focus was entirely on them. That same humming feeling, though not as strong, filled the cab, linking each one of us together. I hated that I knew they were hard and straining under their jeans, all because of me.

“Touch her and get her out of her head,” Mason said. I didn’t often see the similarities between Zack and Mason, but that bossy tone? It was becoming more apparent.

“While my cousin is in the other car, being driven away from hospital after being forced out of the only home she’s ever known by her homicidal mother?” I snapped.

“While you start to test this power that seems to rise when we connect sexually.” His focus swung to the others. “Keep your dicks in your pants. Just make this about her. Micah, if you feel that…presence that rose yesterday, let us know. Everyone stops at that.”

“Right,” I heard the others say.

No, not right, but at the same time, yes, yes, yes. Declan seemed to sense my distress, lifting my hands and brushing his lips against them.

“This feels selfish to you.”

I bristled at him telling me how I felt, but he was right.

“How can it not?”

“What can you do to help Bridget right now? Selma? Aidan?” The last was more of a question than the others. I hadn’t shared what I knew about him with them yet. “How can you do anything to make things better?”

“I know.” My eyes dropped down, following those circles that Micah drew on my knee. Round and round and round. It was like us, a circle of power, and I felt something prickle in response. “It just feels like I should.”

“You should do exactly as Mason says—let us make you feel good, help us to understand what the fuck just happened. You saw that massive wolf before when you rescued him.” I nodded jerkily as he pushed my skirt up slightly, inch by inch, baring my thigh to the car. “He comes when we use power, he comes when we fuck. I don’t see any raping scumbags around here to fight, so I guess it’s this instead.”

He’d inched the skirt up far enough that with his keen eyes and Micah’s, they’d be able to see my pussy in the shadow between my legs.

“Fuck…” Micah hissed, his finger stilling. But I reached over, forcing it to move again. That circle, there was something to it. It was like the power was wound up tighter and tighter, growing in its intensity, but so was my response to them. I hated the groans that came at the first flush of my slick, trickling down my arse to collect on the towel beneath me.

“We packed several towels, Mase?” Declan asked.

“Yeah,” he ground out.

“Good, because I think our girl is gonna soak all of them.”

Declan’s mouth was on mine, hungrily devouring my lips in ways his younger self would never have dared. Because this was a man, confident in his desires, in his ability to serve mine, and I felt like I had totally done the right thing by picking things up again years later. My hands dug into his hair as the bland landscape of field after field of farmland whizzed past. There were very few cars around, being a remote road, but we kept everything below the waist, except his kisses. I slowed him down, sucking his full lip between mine, feeling the ragged plush of his beard as I made myself thoroughly reacquainted with his mouth.

“You’ve had practise,” I said, pulling back.

“Not as much as you think.” He pecked a more chaste kiss on my lips. “I knew I needed to move on, find my mate. I went on dates sometimes, but…”

“No one gets over you, Paige,” Mason said, his eyes blazing in the mirror. “You get under our skin and stay there. Other women, they don’t matter. All you can think is, ‘she’s not Paige.’”

“It’s why he’s been such a grumpy cunt for so long,” Micah drawled, looking at me with hooded eyes. “All work and no pussy” —his hand dipped down between my legs, swiping between my folds before I could close them— “makes Mase a very dull boy.” He licked his fingers, neat as a cat, and then smiled toothily.

“I’m starting to seriously reconsider this plan,” the man himself rumbled in response.

Micah just laughed, wild and chaotic. “Mate, we’ve got another nine and a half hours of this.”

“Fuck…”

It was all circles.

I was glad for all my yoga training as each man had a leg on his lap, spreading me wide, flicking the skirt down whenever a car came close, but otherwise, they were driving me out of my mind. Their fingers traced long lazy loops on my inner thigh, sensitising the skin, making me ache for them to inch closer. My clit throbbed sulkily, and that bruised