Claiming Trinity (12 page)

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Authors: Kali Willows

Tags: #Wiccan, #shape shifter, #ménage, #erotic, #paranormal

BOOK: Claiming Trinity
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“Why not?” Kane high-fived his comrade. “Great idea.”

“You’re kidding, right?”
A child’s game, while you’ve got me all hot and bothered? What’s next, coloring with crayons?

“What’s the problem?” Arawn returned to her and collected the box from her grasp. “I found this in the Game Shack.”

“What are we, ten years old?”
There is absolutely nothing I associate as fun with this ludicrous idea. What is it?
She lifted the lid and inspected the folded plastic material and the cardboard spinner.
Real rocket science here.

“You’re worried it won’t be enough of a challenge for us grown-ups?” he taunted. “We can make it more interesting, if you like.”

“How?” Skeptical he would have a reasonable answer, she stood still and waited for the juicy details.
Strip Twister with the two hot paras? I might not be able to resist.

“Don’t tell Rekkus, but I snuck in a little contraband this week.” He handed the game to Kane. “Set it up. I’ll be right back.”

Arawn strolled toward her again and palmed her cheek and flashed a teasing smirk. He went back into the closet, dragged out a hefty duffle bag, and fished through it. “Here we go,” he announced and pulled out a large glass bottle and dropped the bag back on the floor.

“What have you got?” Kane spread the multi-colored plastic mat across the bamboo floor.

“My old friend, ouzo.”

“Ouzo?” Trinity studied the bottle. The label was written in Greek, therefore, indecipherable to her.

“It’s a drink that tastes like Anise and black licorice. It’s sweet, intense, and a little dangerous.” He cupped her chin and kissed her forehead. “Just like you, princess.”

Although she wouldn’t admit it to them, the prospect of upping the stakes intrigued Trinity. Even as a small kid, she never played games or had fun of any kind. Her childhood had been a blur of trauma and seclusion. Her uncle hid her away and shielded her as much as he could until she became an obstinate adult and insisted they move to New York and live a mundane existence. By then, in college and straight forward into a career, she perfected the existence of all work and no fun. Board games were not a para-norm, but she knew a little about Twister. She’d seen commercials about the precarious positions people could contort themselves into in a ploy to be the last player standing, or rather crouching.

“So, what’s the ouzo for?”

“Makes it more adult.” Arawn headed to the kitchen and searched through the cupboards. He returned with three glass tumblers in hand. “Consider it a little fun, a test of your agility and a chance to stop thinking so much.”

“Fine,” she mocked. “But you both have an advantage with me in a sundress.” She rushed to her suitcase and riffled through her clothes. “If I play, it’s gonna be to win.” She tugged out a white tank top and a pair of black yoga pants. “Excuse me, gentlemen.” Trinity slipped into the bathroom and suited up.

 

 

Arawn poured three shots of ouzo.

“Okay, let’s get this party started.” Trinity returned to the living room.

Arawn pressed his lips tight, a little disappointed she’d changed out of her revealing sundress, he nonetheless studied the way her tank top hugged her voluptuous curves, as did her yoga pants. Although she still wore her hair pinned up in a tight bun, she remained a vision of divine temptation. He admired her pretty bare toes, nails painted a glossy red, and grinned.

“What’s so funny?” She accepted the glass he handed her.

“Nothing, I thought perhaps your attire would be less distracting than your sundress.” He glanced down at her creamy mounds peeking above the low neckline of her top. “But I was wrong.” He gulped hard. “Is there anything you don’t look good in?”

“Glad I wasn’t the only one who thought so.” Kane clinked glasses with him.

“Down boys.” Trinity tossed back her shot.

Arawn studied her face and waited for a shudder or some other reaction of shock at the strong taste. Instead, she swallowed, licked her ruby lips, and held the glass out for a second shot.

“It’s tasty.”

Arawn sputtered. “I think we have a ringer here. We may be in over our heads.” He poured her another shot and sucked back his own. Kane did the same.

She removed her rose-colored glasses and set them on the table beside the bottle of booze.

“What are you doing?” Arawn stared in disbelief at her bright blue eyes.

“Your auras don’t upset me, and this game might get…awkward. I’d hate to break them by accident.”

“Fair enough.” He poured her another shot. It was a pleasant development to see her comfort level advance. He had longed to stare into the depths of her cerulean-blue eyes without the hindrance of the pink lenses.

“Okay, you big lugs, tell me the rules so I can kick both your asses.” She sucked back her second shot, set the glass on the table, and stood at the edge of the mat. “Second round and neither of you can keep up?” She eyed their empty glasses. “It’s gonna be a short night.”

Arawn chuckled and topped up both drinks. He and Kane chugged theirs and joined her at the mat.

“We take turns and spin the wheel. Whatever color, side, and limb it tells you, you have to move, left hand, red, right foot, blue…” Kane explained.

“Got it.” She nodded. “Let’s begin.”

She glowed with excitement. He hadn’t expected this to go over half as well as it had. He’d convinced himself he’d have to bribe her to even start the game.

Six moves each into the game, and they had all played it safe till now, all in their neat little corners of blended moves.

“Is this all there is to this?” Trinity tsked.

“A few more moves, and it will get tricky, I assure you,” Kane warned her.

“Sure it will. There is no challenge here.”

“Hold that thought.” Arawn took note of his placement and jumped up from the mat. He poured three more shots and brought them to his opponents. He held the glass to her luscious lips, and she tried to reach to grab it.

“Uh, uh, uh.” He pulled back. “Players have to keep in position.”

“Then why are you up?”

“I’m the bartender.” He held the glass again. “Go on. I won’t spill it. Trust me.”

“Never trust a man who says trust me.” She glared at him, but he tipped the contents into her mouth.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kane exhaled, hunched over.

“My mother used to tell me, never trust a man who says trust me.” She snickered.

“Well, I don’t mean to speak ill of her, but, did I spill it?” He wished he had the nerve to spill it.

“Not yet, but there’s still plenty of time…and ouzo.” She winked.

Arawn’s balls tightened at the innuendo.
There may be hope for this adventure yet
.

Was this the start of her shift into the brazen woman they’d witnessed after Sage’s herbal roofie? Did enticing her with alcohol make him a deviant? He didn’t want to think so, but guilt permeated his brain nonetheless. After all, the Lord of the Underworld had a knack for getting what he wanted with little regard for right or wrong. Or, at least, that was how he’d rolled in his younger days.

Service in the Para Elite Forces was cut and dry with no blurred lines to navigate. Unlike now, with Trinity. He wanted her, more than any woman he’d ever set eyes on. But they’d been assigned to protect her, not seduce her. Was his playful ploy to get close to her putting her at risk of harm? His desire for her awakened the dark nature he had worked so hard to suppress. The closer he got to her, the more blurred his lines grew, and the less he cared about right or wrong.

“What about mine?” Kane grunted and tried to reach the second glass with his mouth.

“Oh, yeah.” He held the cup for his buddy to chug.

Arawn worked to push his self-doubt and fading righteousness aside. This had to happen. He needed it to. No more room for Mr. Good Guy, not when it threatened to cost him the ultimate reward of claiming her for his own. For their own. Kane needed and wanted her as badly as Arawn did. His ploy wasn’t selfish. It was survival for them both. The brief moment they contemplated losing her, he knew then and there his existence without her would be meaningless. No, if she would have them, they would take her. Tonight.

“My turn.” He rushed back to the table, set down their glasses, tossed back his shot, and rejoined the game.

“Okay, let’s see how close I can get to becoming a para-sandwich with you two stud muffins.” She giggled.

Another wave of regret crashed over him. “Hey.” Arawn sat on the edge of the mat, disappointed with himself.

She glanced over. “What is it?”

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but….” He dipped his chin to his chest in shame.

“Oh no, by the gods, did I completely misread signals here?” Her cheeks blazed red, and she inched out of her precarious position to sit on the mat. She covered her face with her palms and shook her head.

“No, not at all. Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for this,” Arawn stammered. “It’s everything I want, and more.”

“But?”

Arawn hated that he’d made her sad. “Look, it’s been a rough go for you. I want to be sure this isn’t something you’re going to regret.”

“He does have a point, Trinity. I’ve started to feel pretty guilty myself,” Kane confessed. “We really like you. The last thing we want to do is take advantage of you in a vulnerable situation.”

 

Chapter Eleven

 

 

Trinity glanced back and forth between her immortal and her gargoyle’s guilt-ridden stares.
Take advantage of me! Please!
“I won’t lie, I’ve been conflicted for many reasons, but this draw I feel to both of you is more than I can take.”

“We know you’ve been through so much.” Kane rubbed her shoulder.

“To be honest, mourning my uncle has me terrified to move on, to connect with anyone else. I figured if I didn’t get close, it would save me heartache.” She tucked her knees up to her chest. “Does that make me a bad person?”

“Not at all.” Arawn reached over and caressed her cheek. “How long has it been since he…?”

“Six months.”

“It’s gonna take time for you to heal. It’s okay.” Kane raked his fingers through his auburn locks.

“I know.” Trinity’s breath hitched. Uncle Connor would rise from the grave if he could just to tell her not to use his death as an excuse not to live. He sure as Tartarus had lectured her about it since her parents died.

Maybe it was the warmth of the licorice liqueur spreading down her solar plexus and rolling over the ache in her muscles, or perhaps the sense of safety she felt with these two. But the cold exterior she had worked so hard to display melted away.

“I haven’t avoided you both because of my grief.”

“What is it, then?” Arawn traced his thumb over her bottom lip.

“With all that’s happened around me these past months, I feel like I’ve lost my mind. I didn’t want to get close and risk either of you getting hurt because of me.” Her stomach tensed with her confession.

“Nothing will to happen to us, princess.” Arawn kissed her forehead.

“The last person I cared for died a horrible death, and I still don’t know why, but I feel like it had something to do with me.” She hugged her legs tight to her chest and rested her chin on one knee.

“Hey.” Kane shifted closer and sat in front of Trinity. “We’ve both been around death and suffering. A ton of it. You’ve seen the tattoos.” He nodded to Arawn. “There was a long time we both felt responsible for the pain and harm that came to those who were loyal to us in the Underworld.”

“Kane’s right.” Arawn scrubbed his face with his palms. “My father is a vicious bastard who tortured and murdered many. When we rose up against him, the Underworld divided like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Parents against children, siblings, mates. Many fought, some died, and others were captured and subjected to ferocious retribution.” He paused and shook his head, his dark eyes glistening with sorrow.

Kane cleared his throat. “In time, we came to accept. We weren’t the ones who caused the harm, so we stood up and put an end to it. None of us, including you, Trinity, are responsible for the actions of malevolent beings, supernatural or mundane. Free will is exactly that. No matter how much protection we offer, nothing will change the intention of the ones who do the harm.”

Despite their previous admissions of their jaded pasts, Trinity had no idea how much these protectors had witnessed and endured. If anyone really was capable of comprehending her pain, it would be her immortal and her gargoyle.

“You’re both right.” She shifted and sat crossed legged. “I have another confession to make.”

“Tell us.” Arawn prodded.

“I held back, and tonight, might still have. Even though I despise those sadistic Bitches of Eastwick, I’m thankful for one thing.”

“Being?” Kane nodded.

“When they taunted me in the dinner hall, they spiked a real jealous streak in me. No matter how much I denied my attraction to you both, I had to come to terms with it because of them…while in the process of being driven crazy.” She shrugged.

“Wow,” they stated in unison.

“Thanks to the trio, then.” Arawn got up and poured another round.

“Okay.” Trinity shook her shoulders to dispel the entirely too serious moment. “I’ll make you both a deal.” She lifted her chin and flashed a mischievous grin.

“Such as?” Kane rubbed her knee.

“I won’t make it easy for either of you.” She winked. “As you can see, I’m limber and determined. It’s time to live and enjoy what life has to offer. But if either of you expects to get anywhere with me tonight, you’ll have to win first. Consider it game on.”

“What happens if you win?” Arawn returned with the filled tumblers and grinned.

“Well then, I’ll have to have a shower, by myself, and settle in the great big bed over there, all by my lonesome, while you”—she pointed to Arawn—“sleep on the pullout, and you” she pointed to Kane—“perch up on the roof again.”

“Ouch! Cold, Trinity, very cold.” Kane feigned a shiver as he rubbed his bulging biceps.

“I’m sorry, but it’s the way it has to be. I’m a fierce competitor.” She narrowed her eyes. “I have to warn you, neither of you stand a chance.”

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