Page 56 of Diary from an Inked Throne

He finally stilled, his body fully spent and lagging against mine. We breathed in time together, and even though I didn’t have the energy to open my eyes, I reached out a hand for Luca’s.

He put a banana in it.

I opened my eyes and laughed. “Bit late. Already came. What am I supposed to do with this?”

He grinned at me wickedly. “You aren’t the only person we could try a banana on.”

18

NYAH

Dear Diary,

Luca watches Married at First Sight. I’ll never let him live it down.

Dax came home to a clean kitchen, but when we told him why there was no longer any strawberries or bananas left in the fruit bowl, he’d stripped my clothes, laid me straight out on the kitchen counter, and covered me in the jam I’d smeared on my toast that morning.

He’d made Luca and Lynx watch while he licked it off my tits and pussy, even flipping me over to lick it off my asshole. And then he’d fucked me fast and hard from behind while they’d watched, reminding everyone he was a part of this too, and if we fooled around while he wasn’t with us, he was sure as hell going to catch up once he got home.

Freshly showered, we’d all piled in the SUV Luca had been driving around, ready for our first dinner out with another foursome.

I’d been on a high all day, and I tried so hard to stay in that vibe. I deserved a break. I’d done nothing but cry and worry and work myself up until I couldn’t breathe ever since James had been taken from me. I just wanted one day where I got to feel human.

I’d been so close.

All the sex had been the best distraction, and exactly what I needed. It was really hard to think about anything else other than how good you felt when you were in the middle of multiple orgasms.

But in the darkness of the back seat of the car, while the three guys discussed the latest hockey scores, I felt the sadness creep back in.

The guilt that weighed me down every damn day and so rarely eased. The darkness invited it in, and by the time we pulled up in the nearest parking spot, a few yards away from the entrance of the restaurant Violet had booked, the weight of not having my baby in my arms was back to crushing me. Violet and her men stood outside the door, waiting for us, each of them smiling and happy, probably so thrilled to be having a night off with no kids.

I didn’t blame them. Not one bit. I knew none of them had gone on a date since the baby was born. None of them had slept properly or had any time to themselves. Their whole lives revolved around those three kids.

I wanted mine to revolve around James, and yet it didn’t because he wasn’t here.

I walked toward the woman who had so quickly become my best friend, with a fake smile plastered on my face.

She took one look at me, and she knew without me saying a word. She’d been in the middle of a sentence when the words died on her lips, and she practically ran from her men, beelining for me.

We crashed into each other like we hadn’t seen each other in years, both of us holding each other tight, neither of us saying a word because what was there to say? I’m so sorry I have my baby but you don’t have yours?

Violet’s hug was exactly what I needed.

My guys joined Violet’s, and the six of them stood there watching us silently, letting us have the moment we needed.

I eventually pulled back, swiping my fingers quickly beneath my eyes while Violet fanned her face with her fingers.

A flash of light went off to our left, and then another and another, each one blinding me so I couldn’t work out what was going on. It took the paparazzi yelling my name for me to realize we were being photographed.

The guys rushed in, forming a circle around me and Violet, protecting us from the descending mob and their cameras.

The restaurant, to their credit, was amazing. Dax signaled to them as we were ushered in, and their maître d’ closed the door firmly behind us, with a glare at the photographers that clearly said, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

It didn’t stop them from standing right outside the restaurant with their noses pressed to the glass though.

The maître d’ shook his head in disgust, grabbed some menus, and herded us to a back room, out of sight from the front windows.

I sank down into a seat gratefully. “Thank you. And sorry. Hopefully they go away so the rest of your diners can enjoy their meal in peace.”