Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 127941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127941 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Carver grins and just as I’m about to yell out to the boys, his hand comes down over my mouth. “Don’t even think about it,” he grins. “I know I promised to share, but that doesn’t mean that I’m ready to share right now.”
And just like that, he lifts us both up off the desk and moves across the room, kicking the gun out of the way and not stopping until my back is pressed hard against the wall of my father’s office, and only then does he fuck me into submission.
CHAPTER 29
King stands between my legs, his face nuzzled into my neck as I sit up on the kitchen counter. His lips tickle, but they’re so damn warm that the thought of pushing him away physically pains me. Besides, what woman in her right mind would ever push such a beautiful specimen away?
His lips move up to that little space below my ear and my whole shoulder and head squish together, trying to control just how sensitive it is as a ridiculous, girly giggle tears out of me. What is it about this spot on my neck? Had he touched me like that while his cock was also buried deep inside of me, I’d welcome it proudly, but right now, it tickles like a goddamn bitch.
My hands slip up the front of King’s shirt, feeling his strong muscles as he grinds between my legs. A soft moan rumbles through my chest and as my legs wrap around his waist to pull him even closer, an irritated sigh sounds across the kitchen.
“Knock it off,” King grumbles, his words muffled by my neck.
“I didn’t do shit,” Carver says from his perch in front of the fridge. He’s been staring at the contents for the last five minutes and I’m starting to wonder if he’s attempting to manifest whatever the fuck he’s looking for because I can guarantee that whatever it is, it’s not there.
“You didn’t need to do shit, ya jealous fuck,” King says, his tone flat, but the hidden smile against my neck evidence enough that he’s amused by the whole situation. “Your thoughts are screaming loud enough, and no, I wouldn’t fancy you ramming that fucking cucumber up my ass, but if you ask nicely, our girl might enjoy it.”
Carver slams the fridge door and the way he groans tells me that he had in fact thought about ramming King with the cucumber, which has a laugh bubbling up my throat. I glance up and meet Carver’s stare and the amusement on my face has the hostility and jealousy quickly fading out of his.
It’s been a week since he railed me in my father’s office, and while it’s been incredible having him on board, there's been a steep learning curve involved. He’s not as open to sharing as the others, but he’s still down to try. We haven’t had a chance to really share together and I don’t doubt that when we do, he’ll see the brighter side of things. He’s definitely getting used to it though, but for now, we just have to put up with these sudden jealous outbursts that always have him begging for forgiveness with his tail tucked between his legs—or at least, his cock buried between mine. Both are a win-win situation for me.
Having Carver on board and watching as he got used to our new little dynamic was the only thing that has kept me sane over the past few days. Grayson and Cruz went out of town a few days ago, chasing a lead on one of the victims from the ledger, and while I love what they’re doing and truly hope that they find what they’re looking for, I miss them, and I can’t wait for them to be home. Not only to screw me until I can’t breathe, but because having Carver and King on guard duty twenty-four seven is putting us all on edge.
Not one of us have said it out loud, but we’re all petrified that we won’t be ready when Paris comes back. We haven’t had any more spontaneous visits from her and we sure as fuck haven’t found out a damn thing about this long-lost child of hers. I feel like we’ve been getting nowhere. She’s like a ghost, just showing up when she’s ready to say boo. This constant state of unknown has made my anxiety skyrocket, and I don’t like it.
It’s like spinning the handle on a Jack In The Box, only my version is creepy as hell and when it pops up, it’s a psychotic, deranged killer, not just a weird little puppet. I don’t know when she’s going to appear next and that scares me, especially now that I know she’s willing to use the boys to get to me. I can handle me getting hurt, but them? No. They’re off limits, and if she ever comes for them again, I’m going to tear her apart with my teeth like a rabid dog. Then she’ll see who the real bitch around here is. Spoiler alert—it’s me.