Page 33 of Drowning

We have been at the beach house for about two weeks now, and every day the confusion increases.

It's not easy.

Fucking confusing.

I was completely wrong to think Damon could not find me where I was. He attempted to run me off the road and pursue me through the woods on a few occasions when I was riding, shooting at me with his 22.

There's been love notes and blue flowers left on my pillow every night, and he's not even ashamed to sign his fucking name.

Every day he spirals further out of control and gets more and more deranged.

Despite their repeated searches, Eli and Stone were unable to locate him. Our entire house is feeling a little tense as a result of it.

But I can, and I will find him.

"What are you doing out here all alone?" Stone startles me, coming up behind me on the porch as I lounge on the chair and watch the wild waves.

"Reflecting."

"Get Damon out of your head; we have it covered." He settles in and starts to laugh, albeit an irate one.

"If y'all fucking had him, he wouldn't be doing this fucked-up shit, Stone." I roll my eyes, knowing that if I want something done, I'll have to do it myself.

"Don't even think about doing something, Blue Eyes. He is fucking crazy."

I sigh and gaze out at the ocean, where waves crash against the shore. Stone is right; Damon is incredibly unpredictable and dangerous. But I can't just sit back and let him continue to terrorize us.

"I can't just do nothing, Stone. I need to find a way to stop him," I say, determination in my voice.

Stone looks at me with concern, but he knows I won't be swayed. "Your fucking brother would kill us if anything happened to you."

I shake my head, tired of always having to be the one everyone protects—the one who is portrayed as extremely vulnerable. We sit in silence, mulling over our conversation and making silent plans for what to do next. Stone approaches and sits in my chair behind me, pulling me between his parted legs and pressing his groin against my lower back, his arms draping comfortably around me.

Sitting here with him, like this, is soothing in ways that no one else can make me feel. Each guy has something about them thatdraws me in, making it extremely difficult to choose just one of them.

Stone is protective and more likely to be the one being told what to do in bed.

Ace is a sweetheart, too shy for his own good, but he can perform magic tricks with his fucking tongue.

Kane is dominant, always in control, and he teaches me new things that push me outside of my comfort zone.

Seven is possessive and obsessed with everything about me, and he is not afraid to express it.

Despite the fact that the four of them are so fucking different, they all have one thing in common: they want me and want me to be theirs in every way.

As I sit there, wrapped in Stone's arms, I can feel his steady heartbeat on my back. It's a comforting rhythm, but it can't drown out the fear and determination that are warring inside me.

But at the same time, I'm torn. Torn between four men who have each managed to steal a piece of my heart. They all bring something different to the table, something that I can't ignore. And even in the midst of the chaos and danger, I can't help but feel drawn to each of them in their own way.

"Stop overthinking shit, Blue Eyes," Stone says into my ear in a low, deep growl, licking the shell with his tongue.

He slips his hand down the front of my pants and beneath the band of my thong. "Relax. Let me feel how soaked you are just thinking about the four of us."

I lean back, my eyes closed, as his fingers roll up and down my clit, causing my legs to twitch. I dig my fingers into his thighs, my clit pulsing against the pad of his finger. I bite my lip to avoid moaning and drawing attention to ourselves, and spread my legs to give him more room.

"Mmm," he moans. "This pussy is drowning for me, isn't it?" He runs two fingers down my slit, parting my pussy.

"Yes, don't stop," I plead, curling my toes as he thrusts his fingers inside me, hooking them against the curve of my walls.