Page 25 of Indigo

The water is crystal clear, so I don’t dare gaze anywhere but her bottomless blue eyes. She grips my arm, not letting memove, and I don’t think she fully notices what she’s doing. I level her with a look, breathing deeply, showing her the way. She sucks in a breath, trembling, but one turns into two, and soon she’s relaxing her back against the bath.

“Okay?” I whisper.

Her luscious lips curve and she nods timidly, “Okay.”

fifteen

Indigo

Really, I’ve survived a lot, so it’s pretty stupid to think the cold bath got to me. Once I was in, I felt silly to call in reinforcements. I practically sizzled when I sat down, my eyes on Hank and hands gripping him for dear life.

He guided me through it, and before I even noticed, Nash said it was good enough. I’d stay a little longer if I had to.

As much as the icy bath helped me to return to myself, it forced me to look into Hank’s eyes and relax under his care. It’s not something I like to do. You could cut the tension with a knife, especially when I stood as naked as the day I was born, and the three cowboys struggled to look anywhere but at me.

Now I’m in bed, wearing a fluffy robe that I have no idea how it got here because it wasn’t around when I arrived. Between the pillows, I drink a lemon and eucalyptus concoction Nash handed to me. I don’t know if it’s doing anything because the more time goes by, the hotter I feel. The fever might be down, but I know it’s lurking, coming for me when I least expect it.

“How do you feel?” Nash asks.

I shrug. “It’s fine now.”

“Fine…” he repeats, rubbing his face as he starts pacing in the room.

He doesn’t look fine. Actually, the three of them are looking very nervous and unable to stand still.

“Of course she’s fine.” Cassidy laughs.

I make a face, hearing the acidity of his comment. “What is going on now?”

Since everyone promised not to touch me, and I tested that out by needing to be manhandled into a bath, I’m in an awfully good mood. The weird food and drinks Nash keeps giving me are good enough. I’m not hungry or scared.

What crawled into everyone’s ass?

Cassidy doesn’t reply. His head hangs, and he closes his eyes, so I direct my questioning gaze to Hank, who looks just as disturbed as the rest of them.

“You’re perfuming a lot, Indie. It’s…” His hand is on the back of his neck, and he’s obviously uncomfortable.

I sniff the air like a bunny rabbit looking for some lettuce, but of course I can't smell what they do, so I just shrug and relax back in the pillows. I'm comfortable now, and I might as well take it while I have it this good.

“Rest,” Nash says as he takes the glass from my hands.

I don't need to be told twice. I'm exhausted from all the running away and the heat, so before they even turn off the lights, I drift off into a dreamless sleep.

Fire licks between my legs like the tongue of a demon. My eyes snap open, my back arches, and a sinful moan slips past my lips. I'm not sure how long it has been since I went to sleep, but it feels like an eternity, and my body isn't mine anymore.

White knuckles grip the sheets as another wave of unadulterated pleasure crashes over me. I expect to findsomeone between my legs, but it’s just me and the devil eating me out.

As my eyes adjust to the low light and I see that I'm really alone, I part the robe I went to sleep on, and my fingers trace down until I find my clit and start relieving the ache.

Spitting curses, I come so damn quickly my vision turns white. My limbs are shaking, skin coated in sweat dripping down the pristine white sheets below me.

The neediness of my pussy doesn't give me a second to breathe. I'm still high from my orgasm, my clit throbbing, and suddenly I'm empty again. Before I think better of this, I start rubbing myself again furiously.

There's an inferno inside me begging to come out like the Pandora box waiting to get opened. Hey, I'm that dumb bitch Pandora because I open the box. I open my pussy, the cold AC hits me, and I gasp as I sink two fingers right in.

I've always been a fan of touching myself. It's my pleasure, and when the enemy takes so much from you, little things become acts of rebellion. They raped me so damn much for so many years, yet my pleasure has always been mine. They couldn't make me like their brutal hands. They never had that power over my body.

Now, I don’t feel like I have power over my own body. It sings and throbs and aches for the pack. There's no denying I'm thinking about them when I finger myself. I add another finger because I know they are thick and my body wants me to prepare for that.