Chapter 6
SIX
CARTER
Son of a fucking bitch.
As soon as I left this morning, Jasper broke into my apartment, and while Dumb and Dumber had eyes, I told them to stand down.
He probably sniffed all my fucking panties and rifled through my clothes, but other than that, it’s a dead end.
However, I’m done playing passive, taking the game directly to him.
After some serious convincing, Ellie distracted Jasper while I snuck out of his sight, waiting for him at his house and giving the stalker a taste of his own medicine.
My plan is going perfectly, all the way down to getting into his house, and I play along like I’m afraid, but admittedly, there’s nothing but pure adrenaline rushing through my veins.
I’m finally getting closer, and the thrill of the mission is enough to have my heart thudding so loudly against my chest, I wonder if Jasper can hear it.
He leads me up two sets of stairs, his grip on my arm likely leaving finger-shaped bruises, and dragging me around just like he did the last time I was in his house.
Except this time, he thinks he’s got me in a weak spot, but that’s the furthest thing from the truth.
“Now, you’re going to tell me who the fuck you are, Carter. The truth. Not that bullshit cover story you’ve been playing since you got to Emory,” he says sternly, pushing me into his bedroom and slamming the door shut behind us.
Ignoring his tough guy act, I take a look around the room, noting how dark everything is, and the various array of weapons he keeps an arms length away.
My eyes land on his blade, it strikingly similar to mine, and rather than answer him, I cock my head to the side with a smile.
“May I?” I ask, gesturing toward the knife, and his eyebrows knit together, almost as if he’s contemplating allowing me access to a weapon.
Finally he nods, watching me intently as I slip the cover off, spinning the metal in my hands as I inspect it from tip to handle.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, covering the blade back up, returning it to the pile on the table. “So, Jasper, what do you want to know?”
“Everything, Principessina,” he says, and I roll my eyes at the horrible nickname, even though every time he says it, my entire body breaks out in goosebumps.
“Fine, but Tyson needs to know, too. Is he here?” I counter, and a strange look forms on his face, something I decipher as: he had no clue that his friend and I are on a first name basis.
“You’ll tell me first, and I’ll determine what happens next.” He folds his arms across his chest, his tattooed muscles bulging out of the t-shirt he’s wearing, both of us taking a stand and refusing to break.
Shrugging my shoulders, I hop onto his desk and plant my ass right next to his computer, not interested in negotiating.
Of course, I’m not telling him anything worth a damn, but I need to gain his trust, so I’ll throw him a few bones, only to satisfy the hungry dog that lies within him.
Our staredown continues until he finally breaks eye contact, stepping closer to me with one finger in the air.
“Don’t fucking move, Carter. I’m not afraid to use those knives on your pretty little body,” he accentuates his words slowly, meant to be threatening, but I just bat my eyelashes and smile in his face.
“I’m not scared of a little blood, Jasper. But I’ll wait right here for you, like the good little princess you think I am,” I whisper, trailing my fingers down his arm, biting my lip seductively as he watches my every move.
That devilish grin is back, and he steps away from me slowly, his eyes never leaving mine until he disappears behind the door.
A few minutes later he returns, with Tyson in tow, and I have to remind myself to breathe as I’m finally seeing them together for the first time.
They’re both giants in every sense of the word, but side by side, they’re rock solid walls of muscle, and exude pure sex appeal.
Jasper’s clearly the bad boy, his arms covered in tattoos that start from his neck, all the way down to his hands, and the wild death-stare in his icy-silver eyes.
His dark hair is messy, like he’s been tearing at the roots since my little ruse, whereas every strand is normally tamed perfectly in place.
Tyson, on the other hand, is decked out in jewelry – silver rings, necklaces, and bracelets shining against his tanned skin. His hair is longer, but equally as well-kept on an average day, and his dark brown eyes are softer, less murderous than Jasper’s.
“What’s this all about?” Tyson asks, his eyes shifting between the two of us, and suddenly an idea forms.
“The three of us are going on a little drive. I’ll tell you what you want to know, but not here,” I say, watching as they exchange a look, and finally, Jasper speaks up.
“I swear to god, Carter, if you’re playing fucking games,” he starts, but I cut him off, my skirt flowing through the air as I jump off the desk.
“No games. Pinky promise.” I offer my little finger, waiting to see if either one of them takes me up on it.
Tyson steps forward, attaching his pinky to mine and snaking his arm around my waist.
“Come on, I’ll drive,” he says softly, a small smile cascading across his lips, the same calm, sensual demeanor I’ve come to know from him.
Flanking me on either side, the boys escort me out of the house, down to the street where Tyson unlocks his truck, the monstrous vehicle standing out amongst the sports cars and motorcycles.
Being sandwiched between these muscular, criminally insane men has my body on fire, flaming all the way down to every last nerve ending, and I let my mind wander, wondering what it’d be like to have both of them at the same time.
Their massive hands could cover every inch of my skin, and just the thought has me clenching my thighs together, the friskiness of my inner monologue turning me on way beyond what I’ve ever felt before.
Still, I’m here for business, not pleasure, and I need to earn their trust if I intend to get anywhere in the vicinity of the brewing war.
The mission is everything.