14. Atticus
Chapter 14
Atticus
E zra's eyes widen as he unfolds the note. His face contorts into a mask of shock, lips curling in disbelief.
"What in the fuck? Oh, well, isn’t this bold?"
"What is it?" I demand instantly, my body already taut with suspicion. I reach out, but Ezra clutches the note tighter, almost reluctant to share whatever bombshell he's holding.
"Let me see it," I insist, my tone leaving no room for playful disobedience. With a sigh, he hands it over. The note slips from his fingers into mine, crinkling slightly under my grip. The moment I read the scrawled words, something stirs inside me. It’s as though someone has yanked a leash tight around my neck, snapping my control.
My fists clench involuntarily, crumpling the offending sheet into a tight ball. Every muscle in my body is coiled, ready to strike. The faint emblem in the background of the paper is staring at me, mocking me, and my jaw tightens so much I almost feel like I’ll pass out.
"Atticus, breathe," Ezra says, trying to keep his tone light but failing miserably.
"Who the hell thinks they can get away with this?" My voice is low, dangerous. I can feel the rage simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to erupt.
"M’kay, you need to calm down. I can see the vein in your neck pulsating and it's not because of me, so I don’t like it. We'll handle it," Ezra tries, but his words do little to soothe the anger raging inside me.
"Handle it? Oh, we'll handle it alright." I can barely contain the venom in my voice. "No one threatens something that belongs to me and walks away unscathed."
"Atticus, seriously. You’re acting so unlike yourself right now. Where is your control?” Ezra places a hand on my arm, but it takes all my self-control not to shove him off.
"Control? You know better than most about how in control I am." I snap, my eyes boring into his.
"You're acting like a goddamn caveman," he retorts, but there's a flicker of worry in his eyes.
"Maybe I am," I growl, "but if someone thinks they can threaten her, they've got another thing coming. No one causes my pets harm but me."
"Alright, alright. Just…let's eat and enjoy ourselves right now. You can rage about the note afterwards. Maybe it’s just a prank." Ezra's voice softens, and for a moment, the anger ebbs. He leans into me, whispering into my ear, “She’s already got one person in her life spiraling. Let’s not add to it, hmm?”
"Fine," I say, though my fists are still clenched, my body still rigid with fury. "But whoever did this, they will regret it."
"Yes, they will," Ezra agrees, and there's a hint of darkness in his usually playful eyes.
"Good," I say, releasing the crumpled note and letting it fall to the floor. "Because I'm not letting this go."
Lemon sits quietly, her lip caught between her teeth as she chews on it nervously. Her fingers fidget with the edge of her napkin, twisting and untwisting it into tight knots. She looks up at me, eyes wide with worry, and my heart clenches at the sight.
"Uncle Atti, what's going on?" she asks softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
"The note was about you," I say, my tone clipped.
"Wha—what does it say?" Her voice wavers, and she bites down harder on her lip.
"It was inquiring about purchasing you," I finally say through gritted teeth. "Asking how much it would cost to 'buy' you from me."
Lemon gasps, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. Her eyes glisten with tears as she looks between Ezra and me.
"But…why?" she chokes out. "Why would someone say something so demeaning?"
"To put it mildly because they fucking can," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "But don't worry, lemon drop. No one will be ‘buying’ you from me."
"I don't want any trouble because of me," she says, her fingers twisting the napkin tighter.
"That’s not how it works. You signed, you’re mine. If I want to snap playboy over there in half because of you, I will." I snap, my anger flaring again.
"He's right, bellezza," Ezra chimes in, his hand drawing circles on her shoulder. "But it’s cute how sweet you are."
"Now, eat," I say, my voice firm. "You’ll need your damn strength for what I plan to do with you, and skipping meals isn’t allowed anymore."
"He’s right, no more skipping meals," Ezra's voice cuts through my anger, his tone soothing yet firm and backing up my command with her. My fists are clenched so tight, I can feel my nails digging into my palms.
"Ezra, you also need to ea—" I start, but he interrupts me by grabbing my hand with force. He guides it, slowly and deliberately, up Lemon's leg.
"Feel that?" Ezra whispers, his breath hot against my ear. "That's for us, together. Focus on her, not the fucking note."
The touch grounds me, even as it sends a jolt of desire through my body. Lemon's eyes widen, her breath hitching slightly. She looks at me, then at Ezra, her anxiety mingling with desire, overwhelming her senses. My anger begins to ebb, replaced by a possessive urge that's more primal, more immediate.
"See? Better already," Ezra says, his voice playful but still with a tinge of authority. The absolute gall of him to inject that tone toward me. He shifts his attention to Lemon, his hand now gently caressing her arm. "Sweet girl, don't worry about the note. Grumpy Daddy over there wouldn’t sell you even for top dollar. Eat something, okay?"
His fingers trace delicate patterns on her skin, and I watch as her tense shoulders begin to relax. His charisma is undeniable, a force that draws you in and makes everything seem less dire, less immediate.
"Ezra..." she starts, her voice shaky, but he silences her with a gentle press of his lips to her temple.
"Shh, just trust us," he murmurs. "We’ve got this. We’ve got you."
She nods slowly, picking up her fork with trembling hands. The scent of the food fills the air, a rich blend of spices and herbs that should be comforting but feels heavy under the weight of the tension. Her movements are hesitant, each bite a clear effort to push past her fear .
"Good girl," Ezra praises, his hand never leaving her arm. He turns his gaze back to me, his eyes serious now. Trying to tell me I’m not going to get what I want using vinegar instead of honey, but sweetness is his style. He excels in it. I much prefer commands.
I watch her closely as she eats, her movements still cautious but less frantic. She nibbles on her food, eyes darting between us, trying to mask the discomfort that's as clear as day. Her fingers fidget with the edge of her shirt, twisting the fabric like it's her lifeline. Looking at us, you’d think we were all enjoying the food passing our lips instead of the feeling of her trembling beneath our fingertips.
Ezra nods to himself, satisfied for now. His hand slides higher up Lemon's leg, drawing a soft gasp from her. The sound momentarily distracts me from my anger.
I feel my possessiveness take hold at the proximity of his skin to the warm, wet nirvana hiding beneath the delicate cotton. She squirms in her seat, cheeks flushing pink as she fights to stay composed. I lean in close, my voice a low rumble meant only for her.
"Be a good girl and spread those legs for me. Don't make a sound."
Her breath hitches, but she obeys, parting her thighs just enough for my hand to join Ezra's beneath the table. Together, our fingers dance along her thighs, inching closer and closer to the heat between her legs. I feel her tremble, hear the way she struggles to keep her breaths even and quiet. My stomach tightens with arousal.
"That's it, just like that," I murmur. "Such an obedient little pet."
Both of our hands glide up and slip beneath the band of her leggings. I don’t know who the fuck invented these, but they provide easy access and easy coverage, so thank you to whoever it was.
Ezra smirks, his fingers dipping beneath the lace of her panties. She lets out a muffled whimper and I chuckle darkly.
My fingers trail over the soft lace hem of her underwear. Lemon whimpers, her thighs clenching together in a futile attempt at resistance. I tsk in disapproval.
"None of that now." My hand firmly parts her legs once more. "These belong to me now, isn’t that right?"
Lemon nods shakily, eyes wide. Ezra chuckles, giving her thigh a squeeze.
My fingers slip beneath her panties, seeking out her slick heat. Lemon's breath hitches, back arching off the chair. I capture her chin in my free hand, forcing her to meet my intense gaze.
"You only get to come if you let those pretty little mewls out, Lemon. Understood? Let’s see how long you can hold out."
I gently graze her sensitive bud with the pad of my thumb as Ezra's fingers slip inside, curling against her walls. Lemon gasps, eyelids fluttering as she struggles to control herself. The manager approaches to check on us, and I feel Lemon tense, her inner muscles clenching around Ezra's fingers as she fights to remain composed.
"Everything to your liking, Mr. Stratton?" the woman asks with a polite smile.
"Oh yes, fabulous as I expect," Ezra grins, his fingers pumping languidly inside Lemon as she suppresses a throaty moan.
The redhead nods and turns away. I increase the pressure on Lemon's clit just as Ezra crooks his fingers, stroking her sweet spot. Her mouth falls open in a silent 'O' and I revel in the arousal and anguish etched across her beautiful features.
I glance over at Ezra, his eyes dark with lust as his fingers pull out and tease along her slit. I nod and we both slide two fingers inside her, eliciting a sharp gasp as we stretch her pussy to accommodate both of us. Her eyes flutter closed and her teeth sink into her lower lip, desperately trying to hold back her moans.
I curl my fingers upward, finding that sweet spot within her as my thumb circles her clit. Ezra matches my rhythm, his fingers pumping steadily while his other hand caresses her thigh.
I lean in close, my beard brushing her ear. "I want to hear every sound you make," I growl. "Don't you dare bite that lip anymore. I hear your pussy talking to me. Now I want to hear it from your mouth."
She squirms in her seat, chest rising and falling rapidly, her breath coming in short pants. Her hips rock ever so slightly, seeking more friction.
I increase my pace, fingers thrusting faster, palm grinding against her clit. Ezra does the same, our hands working in sync to drive Lemon closer and closer to release. A strangled whine escapes her throat and her eyes fly open, pupils blown wide with arousal.
"Shhh, not yet," Ezra croons. "You don't get to come until you let it out, remember? You can definitely do better than that."
Her breath comes in short, frantic gasps, eyes pleading even as her hips rock needily against our hands.
"Please, I can't..." she whispers. I smirk, withdrawing my hand to leave her empty and aching.
"You'll come when I allow it, not before." My authoritative tone brokers no argument. Lemon nods, eyes glazed with frustrated need. This is only the beginning of her lesson in obedience.
Her legs spread wider, an unspoken invitation. I seize it eagerly, slipping back into her tight heat, stretching her open.
"Fuck, you're dripping," I growl. "I bet everyone in this restaurant can smell how wet you are. You like being fingered in public, don't you? Show us how much you like it."
She nods jerkily, eyes squeezed shut. I capture her gasp with my mouth as Ezra's fingers circle her clit.
My hand tightens on Ezra's, increasing the pressure. She shudders against me, wetness coating our fingers as the slick sounds of her cunt can be heard over the clink of silverware.
Lemon's hips buck, inner walls clenching around us as she chases her climax.
"Please, I…I need..." she pants, eyes screwed shut in ecstasy.
"What do you need, bellezza?" Ezra asks gently. "Use your words."
We bring her right to the edge, keeping her there until she's writhing and pleading.
"Please, need to come, want to come for you, please let me..." she begs.
I increase my pace, pistoning into her dripping center as Ezra continues strumming her clit.
"Come for us and make sure we can hear it, pet," I command.
Lemon shudders violently, mouth open, loud whimpers escaping her as her orgasm crashes over her. Her pussy spasms around our pumping fingers, coating our hands in slick arousal.
I keep thrusting through her climax, drawing out every ounce of pleasure until she collapses back against the seat, spent and flushed.
Ezra grins, pulling out and licking his fingers clean while I wipe mine against her inner thighs.
I pat her pussy once before locking eyes with her, watching as shock overcomes her at what we just did. At what she just did.
"I do believe it’s time we go back home, hm?" I say as I rearrange my cock in my pants before standing up. I let Ezra handle himself before helping Lemon up and we walk out and toward the car awaiting us.
While that was a lovely distraction, my mind can’t help but focus on the note. Not so much what it said, but the faint watermark on the stationary that was used.
Someone very bold and very stupid is using the BCS insignia and it will be the last thing they ever do once Bastian hears about it.