21. Chapter 16
It’s like he poisoned my body against me. The way it just reacts to him makes me wonder what the fuck he did to me that night in the club.
Onyx eyes rake up and down me, as invasive as his hands and mouth were last night.
“If you pull that stunt again, I’ll lock you in the basement where there are no windows to break,” Reaper says, pushing off the wall at the back of the room but he stops in the center of the dining room next to the long table. Even several feet away, he feels like he’s invading my space. “Then you’ll just freeze to death and you won’t be a problem anymore.”
“I’m about to freeze to death in my room,” I snark.
“You really think after your attempt to break a window, we’re going to trust you with a fire in your room?” Viper laughs. “You’d try to burn the whole house down to escape.”
He’s not wrong.
“This place has radiators.” My smile is coated with venom. “I’m sure between all of you, there is enough brain power to get them up and running.”
Breaker chuckles.
“Again,” Reaper says, large, stupidly sexy shoulders tensing, “When you decide to stop tearing your room apart looking for weapons and I know you won’t try to somehow use the radiator to murder us, I’ll adjust the boiler so you have heat.”
I narrow my eyes. “You’re an asshole.”
“I’ve been called worse, Kitten.” Reaper points to the table. “Now sit down.”
Next to me, Breaker pulls out a chair and settles down. He pats his lap in invitation.
Yeah. I don’t think so.
Before I can voice the thought, he tugs me onto his lap. I cry out a surprised peep, and land awkwardly, my hands flying out to catch myself with the edge of the table.
“Now it’s time to eat,” Viper says, and that’s when I notice my usual tray laden with food sitting in the center of the table. “Be a good girl and listen to Reaper.”
Breaker’s arm wraps around my middle, and he adjusts me on his lap, pressing my back to his solid, warm chest. I sit upright, my fingers curling into the tabletop, my spine ramrod straight. This is the first I’ve been close to any of them and my heart hammers, feeling his long fingers dig into my hip, squeezing me like he can’t help himself. Like maybe he’s constantly flooded with memories of that night, too.
“Hands on the table,” Reaper says, leaning over to drag the tray of food toward him as he moves closer, stopping so he’s towering over me, his belt level with my eyes.
Shit. He’s big. Everything about him is large. The thought sends heat shivering through my belly, pulling my lip down in annoyance.
My eyes lift from the black metallic buckle up to his black eyes. Something flickers behind them. Anger. Disdain. Something else, some other emotion I can’t place. He shifts, his thumb hooking on the belt. My gaze snag on his long fingers, and the dark ink on the back of his hand. He’s not wearing his gloves again. I focus on his bare hand, and that’s when I notice it.
He’s hard.
They both are.
My entire body goes rigid. I grip the table and try to pull myself up, something fluttering weirdly, low in my belly as Breaker’s thick cock digs into my butt. Reaper’s hand slams down on my shoulder, keeping me in place.
“Stay,” he growls.
I grind my teeth, glaring up at him, knuckles turning white as I try to keep from shoving them both away and refusing to listen. But I’m not sure what they’ll do if I try to move. The angry stare I’m getting from Reaper right now tells me it’s pointless to fight them. There’s four of them and one of me.
They’re going to win.
Behind me, Breaker grunts from the pressure of my ass on his hard dick when I shift again, trying to avoid sitting on his erection, but that’s just impossible. I remember vividly what he looked like as he fucked Cora.
A chair scrapes across the wood floor, breaking the tension as Striker sits to our right. Reaper’s hand drops from my shoulder and he places it flat on the table. He taps on the wood top with one finger, and my eyes track his movements, drawn to the tattoos. I caught a glimpse of his tanned flesh and the ink over the back of his hands last night, but now I see the skull’s below his knuckles on each finger, the one on his index finger slashed over with a red mark, and the intricate details of the flowers and vines snaking up to his wrist and disappearing under the shirtsleeve.
“Hope you’re hungry, Sweetheart,” Viper says, lowering his large frame into a chair across the table from us.
Reaper taps the tabletop again. My eyes snap to his hand. “Hands on the table, palms flat,” he says, and that’s when I notice the wooden ruler, like the old ones used in schools, laying on the table next to his hand.
My brows knit, but I place my hands on the cool surface, palms flat, fingers splayed out.
“Good girl,” Breaker says and I feel his praise rumble through my back.
Reaper picks up a block of cheese and holds it up. “Open.”
“I don’t think so,” I snap when I realize his plan. “I can feed myself.”
Shifting, I lift my hands, but before I can pull them away, Reaper snatches the ruler and slaps it across my fingers.
“What the fuck!” I pull my hands back, pressing my fingers to my mouth, glaring up at him.
“Hands on the table,” Striker says and I turn to look at him. He’s dead serious, not even phased by the fact Reaper just rapped my knuckles with a fucking ruler. Like this is normal. He cocks his head to the side as he taps the tabletop. “Listen.”
“Fucking psychos,” I mumble. Hesitantly, I lay my hands back down, watching the ruler in Reaper’s hand for any signs of movement. Breaker’s hips tilt, and his huge cock digs into my backside, letting me know he very much likes me sitting here. Or maybe he likes the entire situation.
“Good girl,” Viper praises when my hands are flat on the table.
Reaper holds up the cheese again, and I turn my head.
“I can fucking feed myself.”
With a low growl, Reaper lurches forward, his black eyes flashing dangerously, and grips my cheeks, squeezing hard enough to force my lips apart. “When I can trust you with a fork, you’ll get the privilege of feeding yourself. Now open.”
I attempt to jerk away, but his grip just tightens painfully. When I move to lift my hands to fight him off, I remember the sharp smack of the ruler and keep them in place. Before I can protest further, he shoves the bit of cheese in my mouth and covers my lips, releasing his grip on my face just enough for him to snap my jaw shut like I’m a dog getting a pill.
“Chew and swallow,” he orders, a dark edge in his voice.
Shit. I really pissed him off last night.
As I chew, he picks up the ruler again, daring me to lift my hands. I leave them flat on the surface, knowing he’d love the excuse to smack my knuckles again. After I swallow, I open my mouth to show him, making Viper chuckle.
“Such a brat,” Reaper says and picks up another bite. My eyes drop to the bulge in his pants as he taps the food on my bottom lip. This time, though, I open. He shoves it roughly into my mouth, like he can’t stop his hatred of me from spilling out. I smile sweetly as I chew, making his own black glare turn deadly.
I’m not stupid. The sick gleam in his eye tells me he’ll hold me down and force the food in my mouth if I continue to fight, but that doesn’t mean I will sit quietly and let him bully me. He warned me not to push him too far and from the intense gleam in his eye, I believe he’s capable of hurting me, maybe even would love the chance, but last night taught me one thing.
He remembers me just as much as I remember him.
Chewing, I eye him. I know I should be terrified of him, of all of them, but I’m not. I’ve grown up around dangerous men. Men who’ve murdered people. Men like the ones who shot my mother. If Reaper didn’t hurt me after I nearly broke the window in the room, then I know I’m at least physically safe.
Maybe not mentally.
Hell, maybe I’m not entirely physically safe. They may want me alive, but that doesn’t mean they can’t or won’t harm me.
He killed my father’s guards in cold blood, after all.
My heart falls to my stomach. Manuel. He was a good man, a good bodyguard, and a dedicated soldier for my father.
The food sticks in my throat as I swallow. Curling my fingers into the wood table, I ask Reaper, “Do you even feel any remorse?”
“No,” is Reaper’s response.
“About what?” is what Striker asks, and the other two remain quiet.
With a scowl, I lock eyes with Reaper, his skull mask taunting me, just as he did when he punished me with the ruler. “For killing Manuel.”
“I’ve killed many people, Kitten,” Reaper says, shoving another piece of cheese past my lips hard enough that my head hits Breaker’s chin. “I need you to clarify.”
“I’d known him half of my life,” I say. “The man you shot in the head has been my father’s security guard since I was twelve years old.”
“That’s a sad story,” Reaper says. “He did his job well until he didn’t.”
I clench my teeth, fighting the sudden sting of tears, and shove down the memory of his blank eyes as he bled at my feet.
Like he can sense my distress, Breaker’s large hand lands on my thigh and he rubs it up and down over my dress. The move’s weirdly comforting and I settle back into him, watching Reaper pick up more food from the tray.
“Open.” He shoves another bit of food into my mouth. Reaper repeats the movement, feeding me little bites at a time, his movements turning less and less rough, until the tray is almost clear while Viper, sits quietly, his arms on the tabletop across from us, greenish-blue eyes watching my mouth with an almost perverse interest, while Breaker’s hand moves up and down my thigh, or brushes my arm, and Striker sits silently beside us.
Having their focus on me makes my belly flutter, but I recognize the sensation. It’s not just nerves making me squirm. It”s arousal.
God, they fucked me up.
Reaper was right. I’m not sure I actually want their attention now that I have it.
But I don’t think I don’t want it either.
Keeping my hands on the table, I lean back against Breaker and shake my head when Reaper offers a hunk of bread. “I’m full.”
“You eat until the food is gone,” Reaper says, and there’s a warning in his voice. “You’re not eating enough and you’ve lost weight.”
Breaker’s arm tightens around my middle, his hand flexing on my hip. He’s still hard. “Come on, Tiny Thing, you need to eat more.”
“Fattening up your prize pig?” I snarl, too aware of their closeness, their excitement, their everything, yet unable to control my mouth. My father told me it would be my undoing and I think right now he may be right. “Is that what you guys have planned? Sell me off to the highest bidder since my father’s not coming through with the money?”
I bite my lip, regretting the words as soon as they slip past my lips. A tear threatens to break free and I furiously swipe my eye with my shoulder, keeping my palms flat. I focus on the tray of food, anger at myself making my cheeks heat.
Damn them.
I haven’t allowed myself to feel for days and the first time I admit to myself I’m scared my father won’t pay, or can’t come to get me, is in front of all of them, which just infuriates me further. I can not let them see any weakness. It’s obvious they’ll use it against me.
My fingers curl into the wood, nails scraping. “He’s going to kill you all when he comes to get me.”
“Your father doesn’t know where you are, Sweetheart,” Viper offers, leaning forward to scoot the tray closer to me. “He can’t get you if he doesn’t know where to look.”
“It’s hard to find someone when you take them hundreds of miles away,” I snap, faintly aware that I’ve opened my mouth, allowing Reaper to slip more food past my lips.
“How do you know you are hundreds of miles away?” Striker asks.
I swallow and accept another dried piece of fruit from Reaper before looking at Striker. “The landscape. It looks like the land around my father”s lodge. And there are no palm trees and white sand.”
He just nods, glancing at Reaper.
So I was right. I knew I was, but had held on to the silly hope that maybe Florida suddenly had craggy cliffs. If Cora and I were simply being held until my father paid, we’d be close to him. Not sitting in a crumbling mansion hundreds, possibly even as much as a thousand miles away.
No one says anything for a few minutes and I eat until the food is gone and I feel like I’m going to explode. Satisfied, Reaper removes the tray and Viper hands me a bottle of water, leaning against the table, looking down at me in Breaker’s lap. I’m so full I can’t fit any more in my stomach, so I stuff it into the pocket of my sweater for later.
“What now?” I ask. “Are you guys going to strip me and bathe me too? Don’t trust me with a comb or brush? There are razors in my bathroom that I could use to make a shank.”
Viper laughs, brushing a strand of hair off my face. The move is intimate. Familiar. Because we are, I remind myself.
“If that’s a concern, maybe we should bathe you,” Striker says, and I swear he’s smiling under the mask.
“Or with you,” Breaker says, his words soft in my ear, his hips tilting to remind me of his erection.
Not like I need it. If anything, I’m a bit too aware of him.
I jump up, turning to glare at him, as his hands slip away, trying to ignore the heat flaring between my thighs. “You’d have to take your stupid masks off for that. And being you can’t even fuck without them on, I don’t think I need to worry about you joining me.”
“You need to worry about adjusting your tone,” Striker says, voice dropping low. “Be a good little hostage and go back to your room before you piss one if us off and that rude mouth earns you a lesson.”
My lip curls into a wicked grin. “You sure enjoyed my rude mouth before.”
Breaker sighs, stroking my thigh. “Tiny Thing, behave.”
Jerking back, I hit the table, a primal part of my brain lighting up, acutely aware I’m of their proximity, their hands, their large sexy muscles my body sings for like a starved siren.
“Go back upstairs and rest,” Breaker says, standing up. I suck in a breath. How I forgot how intimidatingly sexy he is seems stupid on my part now that he’s right in front of me, touching me with gentle hands.
My gaze falls to his chest, my mind flashing with the memory of his abs and sweat slicked flesh. When he hooks a finger under my chin, lifting my chin, I grip the table behind me, trying to control my breathing.
Pale blue eyes drop to my mouth. Breaker’s thumb swipes at my bottom lip, igniting flames under my flesh. “Run along, sweet girl, before we change our minds and tie you to this table and teach you a lesson.”
Shit. That shouldn’t sound so enticing.
Yeah. I definitely don’t need any more reminders of how large and infuriatingly sexy he is. And I certainly don’t need a lesson from them.
My body remembers just fine on its own.
Breaker steps back, letting me slip past. Their eyes bore into my back as I walk from the room. It feels like they can see under my flesh, to my blood burning in my veins, shining with heat from their words.
With my head high, I keep my eyes on the door and walk out, part of me wondering if I’m going to be fed like that for every meal.