“Even this?” she asked, her gaze darting between men.
“Especially this,” Blake said, his lips hovering over hers as he propped up her head, placing a short stack of pillows under her neck and shoulders.
“I don’t have the energy I used to have,” she said, squirming as Grant grabbed her right leg.
He removed her sandal and caressed her ankle. “You’re so thin, Morgan.”
“She needs to put on some weight,” Blake agreed.
“I eat.”
“What? Lettuce and a carrot?” Grant asked, tying her leg to a post. When he secured the other one, he added, “Ah hell, I forgot how limber you are.”
The longing strummed through his voice as his fingers marched up and down her lower leg. His ravenous touch heated her pussy, making her yearn for more.
“I didn’t,” Blake said, moistening his lips. “She could work those legs better than a pretzel twists.”
Grant jerked. “Hmm, I can’t remember.”
“Liar,” Blake said, chuckling.
His lips skimmed across hers. Morgan found herself stretching for a better sample, a little peck to let her know this was more about her and their feelings for an old love they’d never forgotten rather than about making her well, keeping her sober.
“How do you think I can get away if Kilo comes here?” she asked, yanking her arms up and sideways only to discover there was very little play in the rope securing her. “You’ve tied me up and left me vulnerable.”
“Do you see either of us leaving this room?” Grant asked.
“No.”
“Then don’t doubt either one of us again,” Grant said, tickling her toes.
She giggled then, and the release of laughter felt good, completely refreshing. In recent weeks, all she’d done was cry.
She’d sobbed over the loss of Kilo, not because she loved him, but because she needed him. She’d cried when she’d left Memphis, fearing she’d never return to the city she’d loved at first sight. Then, she wailed like a baby, throwing tantrums and fits as the detox process brought her to her knees.
Now, if anyone ever told her to go to hell—as Kilo often did—she could tell them she’d seen the glow from its dancing flames, truly experienced its unforgiving fires, met the devil, shaken his hand, and even gotten to know a few of those who’d gone before her.
“What are you thinking?” Blake asked, studying her face.
Unaware she’d zoned out, she said, “I was just reliving a memory or two. It’s nothing.”
“Is it private?” Blake asked.
“Yes, sort of.”
“You can’t have secrets from us,” Blake reminded her.
He was right. In order for them to reconnect on an intimate level, she had to open up and talk to them. If she ever wanted to put the past behind her, she had to let them know what she’d endured.
“I saw weird things during those first few days.”
“Weird how?” Blake asked.
She glanced at Grant. If he had walked down this road of addiction with his brother, he already had a pretty good idea of what she’d endured.
“There were demons after me,” she explained. “The best way to describe the first few hours would be that I slipped into one of the worst horror movies imaginable. I caught the leading role and was both heroine and villain, doomed to die and destined to live on forever.”
“What?” Blake asked, arching a brow.
“Go on,” Grant encouraged her. His eyes held the harrowing truth. Grant had already heard plenty about the devil’s serum. Meth had quite a reputation on the streets, but those who’d experienced the drug through their loved one’s addiction knew the kind of hell “ice” brought down on families and its many users.
“By the time I got to Nashville, I was sick and sweating bullets. The innkeeper at the motel where I checked in didn’t want to give me a room. I had to beg for one and then allow him access whenever he requested. I guess he thought I was making meth because of my outer appearance.
“Anyway, by the time I settled in for the night, I was a mess. The room started spinning, the hallucinations began, and I was in a very bad place. I heard voices. I clutched the devil’s hand and saw those who’d sold their souls, but I fought my way out of hell. I could feel the fires consuming me, the way the flames danced at my back, but I knew I didn’t want to die and go to hell. I realized there were people who loved me.
“I hung on to that. I held tightly to the possibilities that if I made it out of that hotel room alive, I’d never go back and tempt death again.”
“Then why would you take the drug if someone offered it?” Blake asked.