Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
T he fire crackles softly in front of us, the warmth radiating through the room, but all my attention is on Grace. She’s curled up against me on the couch, her body snug against mine like it was made to fit. She smells like sugar and cinnamon, all sweetness with just enough heat to keep me on edge. Her head rests on my shoulder, and her fingers absently trace patterns over my chest, like she’s trying to distract herself.
But it’s not working. I can feel the restlessness in her, the way her body shifts ever so slightly next to mine, like she’s thinking about something.
I smirk to myself. I know Grace. She’s not nearly as sweet as she appears to be. I mean, she is sweet, but that’s not all that she is. She’s always got something going on behind those silvery blue eyes. And if I’m right, which I usually am, I’m going to have a hell of a time teasing it out of her.
She stretches her legs across my lap, her little Christmas socks sliding over my jeans. The soft, lazy grin she gives me is all innocence, but I know better. I’ve seen what this girl is capable of when she lets go.
“What are you thinking about, Little One?” I murmur, letting my hand casually slide down to her thigh. Just a light touch, enough to make her notice, but not enough to give her what she wants.
Her eyes flick up to meet mine, and that smile widens. “What do you mean?” She’s playing coy, like she doesn’t know what I’m talking about, but the blush creeping up her neck gives her away. I chuckle softly.
I’m not usually one to play games, not like this. Usually, I’m the guy keeping everything under control, keeping the edge razor-sharp, making sure no one gets too comfortable. It’s what I’m good at–staying two steps ahead. Reading the room. Calculating.
But today? Today, I feel like being...different. Something about Grace has me in a mood, and I can’t resist pushing her, teasing her. Maybe it’s the way her body melts into mine, all soft curves and warm skin, or maybe it’s the way her fingers keep brushing my chest, like she’s barely holding back from taking what she wants.
She’s horny. I can tell. The way she keeps shifting her legs, the way she’s pretending to focus on the movie playing in the background, but really, her attention is on me. I can feel it. But I’m not about to give her what she wants. Not just yet.
“Grace,” I murmur, just loud enough for her to hear over the crackle of the fire. My voice is casual, but there’s an edge to it. “What’s on your mind, Little One?”
She looks up at me, those wide, silvery blue eyes blinking innocently, like she’s got no idea what I’m talking about. But I know better. She’s trying to play it cool, trying to act like her mind isn’t racing with all the things she wants me to do to her.
“Nothing,” she says, her voice light and sweet, but I hear the tension under it. “Just...relaxing.”
I hum softly, dragging my hand lazily along her thigh. “You sure about that?”
Her eyes flick down to my hand, watching it move. She’s starts to unravel, just a little. I can tell by the way her body tenses. How her breath catches. She’s always so easy to read. I love that about her.
“ Mmhmm ,” she manages, her voice a little less steady now.
I let my fingers drift higher, brushing the soft skin just under the hem of her sweater. The fabric is thin, festive, and ridiculous–something with a winking reindeer on it–but it clings to her curves in all the right ways. Her skin is warm and I can feel the way her body reacts to my touch. I watch in pride at the subtle shiver that runs through her.
“Really?” I press, lowering my voice, making it rougher. “You’re not thinking about anything at all?”
She shifts, a small, frustrated sound escaping her lips. “Teddy…”
“What?” I chuckle, leaning in so my lips are right by her ear. “You seem tense, Grace. Like you’re waiting for something.”
She lets out a soft laugh, trying to play it off, but I can hear the breathlessness in it. “Maybe I am.”
I grin against her skin, my lips barely grazing her ear, and I know I’ve got her. She wants this. She wants me to push her, but she’s too stubborn to admit it.
“Why don’t you tell me what you want, then?” I murmur, my hand creeping higher up her thigh, but still not giving her what she’s craving. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
She huffs, frustrated, her fingers curling into my shirt. “You know what I want.”
I laugh softly, pulling back just enough to look at her. She’s biting her lip, her cheeks flushed, and there’s that telltale spark in her eyes–impatience, desire, frustration. She’s worked up, and I’m enjoying every second of it.
“Oh, I know what you want, Little One,” I say, my voice low, teasing. “But I want to hear you say it.”
Her eyes narrow slightly, and I can tell she’s fighting the urge to just grab me and take what she wants, but that’s not how this works. I’m in control tonight, and I want her to beg for it. To open up to me and tell me things she wouldn’t normally say.
“I’m not playing this game with you,” she mutters, but there’s no conviction in her voice. She’s already playing it, whether she likes it or not.
I laugh again, a deep, rumbling sound that I know gets under her skin. “Come on, Grace. What’s the harm in telling me? You never know…it might come true.”
Her eyes flick up to meet mine, and I can see the wheels turning in her head. She’s considering it, weighing her options, but I’m not going to make this easy for her.
I shift slightly, pulling her closer to me, and she gasps as I drag my hand slowly over her inner thigh. “Come on, Little One,” I whisper, my breath hot against her skin. “Tell me. What’s the wildest thing you’ve ever thought about?”
She squirms, her fingers tightening their grip on my shirt. I can feel her resistance, but I know I’m breaking it down, bit by bit.
“Teddy…” she breathes, her voice shaky. “Just-”
“Just what?” I cut her off, smirking. “You’re the one holding out on me. I’m just trying to figure out what’s got you all worked up. I just want to help.”
She groans softly, frustrated, and I know she’s close to giving in. “Why are you like this?”
“Because,” I murmur, brushing my lips over the soft skin of her neck. “I like watching you squirm.”
She shivers under my touch. All I need to do is push her a little more.
“You don’t want to tell me?” I ask, my voice dark and teasing. “You don’t want to tell me what dirty little fantasy has been bouncing around in your head?”
She exhales sharply, her body tense against mine. “I don’t-”
“Liar,” I interrupt, sliding my hand just under her sweater to feel the heat radiating off her skin. “Come on, Grace. I know there’s something. You’re practically dripping with it.”
Her breath catches, and I can see the way her mind is racing. She’s torn between giving in and keeping whatever control she has left. I give her a few seconds, just enough to let the tension build, before I nudge her again.
“Tell me,” I growl softly, my lips brushing the shell of her ear.
She takes a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve...I’ve been thinking about something.”
I grin, satisfied. “Yeah? What’s that?”
She hesitates, biting her lip, and I can see the blush creeping up her neck, coloring her cheeks. It’s a good look on her–innocence mixed with something darker. Something that’s about to spill out.
“It’s...it’s kind of crazy,” she finally admits, her voice soft, but I can hear the anticipation in it.
“Good,” I say, leaning back just enough to meet her eyes. “Tell me.”
She bites her lip again, her eyes darting away for a second, and then she looks back at me, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I’ve been thinking about...being taken.”
I blink, a slow grin spreading across my face. “Taken, huh?”
She nods, her breath shaky. “Yeah...like, kidnapped.”
My pulse kicks up a notch. I wasn’t expecting that, but now that she’s said it, my mind’s already racing with possibilities.
“And who’s doing the kidnapping?” I ask, my voice rougher now, the teasing fading into something darker, something hungrier.
She meets my gaze, her eyes shining with a mix of desire and nerves. “Three very dangerous hitmen.”
Jesus Christ. The thought of it sends a jolt of heat through me, and I have to take a breath to steady myself.
“And what do we do once we’ve got you?” I murmur, my voice low and dangerous now.
Her lips part, her breath coming in shallow gasps. “You don’t ask for permission,” she whispers, her eyes locked on mine. “You just…take.”
Fuck. This woman.
I stand up abruptly, leaving her sprawled out on the couch, her eyes wide and confused. “Where are you going?” She asks, her voice laced with frustration.
I glance back at her, a slow grin spreading across my face. “Be right back.”
She groans, dropping her head back against the couch, her lips forming the cutest little pout. “Seriously? Now?”
“Yep,” I say, already leaving the room. “Sorry. I forgot I have to do…something.”
I grin as I hear her grumbling under her breath about blue ovaries and silly, frustrating hitmen, among other things. She has no fucking idea.
T he night air is cold, biting at the exposed skin around my eyes and lips as we crouch outside the cabin. The snowstorm didn’t want to stay away for long, giving us only a short bit of time to enjoy a peaceful, snowy landscape, and now the snow is back to coming down in droves.
And it only seems to be gaining steam. But luckily, it doesn’t seem dangerous yet.
I’ve done my fair share of covert ops in the worst conditions, but tonight? Tonight’s different. We’re not on some mission halfway across the world; we’re right outside the damn cabin, stalking the one woman I’d never hurt for real.
But this? This is for fun.
“She’s really in there just...cooking dinner,” Key whispers, shaking his head with a grin, his balaclava folded on his forehead. “Completely unaware three of the most dangerous men she knows are about to storm in and kidnap her.”
“That’s the point,” I say, my voice low but firm, keeping my eyes trained on Grace through the window. I can’t take them off her, not when she looks like that–so soft, so completely unprepared for what’s about to happen. “She wanted this.”
“She really asked for this?” Atlas’s voice rumbles low, quiet enough not to carry but full of disbelief. His breath fogs the air, and I can see his narrowed eyes glinting in the dark through the slits in his balaclava.
He’s still processing. I can’t blame him. None of us expected her to have a fantasy this wild, but then again, that’s part of what makes her Grace. She’s always surprising us. Always keeping us on our toes.
“Yup,” I say, adjusting my mask.
Through the frosted glass, Grace is at the counter, busying herself with dinner preparations. I can see the soft curve of her body, the way she moves with ease, completely unaware of the danger lurking just outside, about to make her wildest fantasy come true.
“Didn’t know she had it in her,” Key says, his voice tinged with amusement. He’s crouched next to me, fiddling with the knives strapped to his belt, ever the perfectionist when it comes to his tools. His eyes dart to the window again, watching her. I can tell he’s itching to make his move. “So that’s the plan? We bust in and...what? Grab her, tie her up, and give her the night of her life?”
I grin behind my mask. “Pretty much.”
Key snickers. “Think she’ll scream?”
“Probably,” I admit, unable to hide the grin tugging at my lips beneath the mask. “But that’s part of the fun, right?”
Grace moves to the stove, her back to us, the soft glow of the kitchen light casting her in a golden hue. She’s humming to herself, completely at ease.
Atlas stands, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for battle. His bulk is impossible to ignore, and in the black tactical gear, he looks like a force of nature. The mask doesn’t hide the intensity in his eyes, the predatory gleam that always shows up when he’s on the hunt.
“You really think she’ll like this?” He asks, his voice a little softer now, the concern that only Grace could pull from him making its way to the surface.
“She asked for it,” I remind him, adjusting the gloves on my hands as I prepare myself for what’s about to go down. “Trust me, she’ll love it.”
“Of course she will,” Key cuts in, excitement clear in his voice. He bounces on his toes, full of energy, like a kid about to pull off the greatest prank of his life. “I mean, come on, Atlas. When’s the last time you saw Grace not loving something we did? She’s gonna eat this up.”
Atlas grunts but nods, resigned. He can’t argue with the truth. Grace has a way of surprising us all, and tonight is no different. The thought of her wanting us–really wanting us to take control in this way–it’s driving me crazy, even if I’m not showing it on the surface.
It’s a far cry from my usual cold, calculating self, but for once? I want to indulge in this. Push her limits. Push my own. I greatly enjoy this newfound addiction.
“Alright,” I say, my voice dropping into a command tone. “We go in, we keep it rough, but we don’t go too far. She wants it intense, but we don’t hurt her. Got it?”
Atlas nods, already pulling his balaclava down tighter over his face. His eyes are hard now, focused. Key, on the other hand, flashes me a quick grin and pulls his own mask down, the playful glint in his amber eyes never fading. He’s already in character.
“We go in on my signal,” I continue, checking the gear on my belt one last time. I don’t actually need half of this stuff, but the feel of it, the weight of the weapons, adds to the authenticity. And I know it’s going to get Grace’s heart pounding when she sees us, decked out like this, ready to take her. “We grab her, rough her up just enough to make it real. We’ll tie her down if we have to, keep her guessing, keep her on edge.”
Atlas’s gaze flicks back to the window, watching her move about, still oblivious. “And then?”
“And then,” I say with a smirk. “We give her exactly what she asked for.”
Key lets out a soft chuckle. “Damn, I can’t believe we’re actually doing this.”
I give him a sidelong glance. “Any objections?”
“Hell no,” he says almost on a girlish squeal. “I’m just wondering how long she’s gonna last before she begs.”
That gets a chuckle out of Atlas, and I shake my head, knowing Grace is in for one hell of a night. The thrill of this–of making her fantasy come alive–it’s got my blood pumping in a way I haven’t felt in years.
“Alright, on my mark,” I say, keeping my voice low. “Three...two...one…”
I slam the door open with a thunderous bang, the sound reverberating through the cabin as we rush towards her. The kitchen light flickers for a moment from the force of the impact, and Grace spins around, her eyes wide, her hand instinctively clutching the spoon she’s been stirring with.
She freezes.
For a second, it’s like time stops. Grace stands there, staring at us, her mouth slightly open, her brain clearly struggling to catch up to what’s happening. The three of us are standing in the doorway like something out of a horror movie–black-clad, masked and towering over her–and for the first few heartbeats, all I see is raw shock on her face.
Exactly what I wanted.
I feel a surge of satisfaction as her wide eyes take us in, her breath catching in her throat. I take a step forward, but that’s as far as I get.
Before I can even reach for her, or even say a word, her instincts kick in. Her whole body reacts faster than I can register. Dropping the spoon, her face twists into a mask of sheer panic, and her knee comes up.
Hard.
Right between my legs.
The moment her knee connects, everything goes white-hot.
There’s no sound. No thought. Just blinding, searing pain that explodes through my body like a bomb detonating in slow motion. It’s not just in my groin–it’s everywhere, spreading like wildfire from the epicenter. Radiating outward and stealing my breath, it locks every muscle in place.
I’ve been shot before. I’ve taken hits that should have knocked me flat, but nothing– nothing –compares to the agony that comes from a perfectly placed knee straight to the balls.
Time slows. The world tilts. I don’t even realize I’m falling until I’m on my knees, clutching myself with both hands, my vision narrowing to a tunnel of pure pain.
I hear someone gasp. Grace, maybe? Doesn’t matter. All that matters is the fire burning between my legs, and the fact that I might never walk again.
Everything’s silent. The room is frozen, like someone hit pause on reality. Even Key, who’s always the first to crack a joke, is stunned into stillness, his eyes wide behind his mask. Atlas looks like a damn statue, looming over us, not moving an inch.
For a second, there’s nothing but the ringing in my ears and the cold, hard floor beneath me.
Then, finally, with every ounce of strength I can muster, I force one word out of my mouth, low and broken: “Nutcracker.”
The word echoes in the silence, hanging there for just a heartbeat before all hell breaks loose.
Key is the first to crack. He’s doubled over in an instant, his body shaking with laughter, the sound spilling out of him in loud, uncontrollable waves.
“Oh my God–holy shit–Nutcracker!” He howls, barely able to get the words out between gasps of laughter. “Teddy, you just–she just–right in the nuts!”
Atlas tries to hold it together– tries –but he’s no match for the absurdity of the situation. A low rumble escapes him, the sound deep and vibrating from his chest, his massive shoulders heaving. “Nutcracker,” he repeats, his voice half-choked with amusement, unable to hold back anymore.
Meanwhile, Grace is still frozen, her eyes wide with shock. It takes a few more seconds and then she suddenly snaps out of it. “Oh my God,” she breathes, horror flooding her face as the realization dawns. “Oh my God, Teddy–I didn’t mean to! I thought-”
She rushes forward, hands flapping uselessly as if she can somehow undo what she’s done. “I’m so sorry! I thought you were–I mean, I didn’t know it was you!”
I can’t answer her. I’m still crumpled on the floor, curled into myself, every muscle locked in a defensive knot, trying–and failing–to breathe through the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life. All I can do is squeeze my eyes shut and hope that I survive this long enough to retaliate later.
“I didn’t-” Grace’s voice breaks, panicked and frantic as she hovers over me. “I didn’t mean to, I swear! I thought it was–oh God, Teddy, are you okay?!”
Key is no help at all. He’s practically rolling on the floor at this point, tears streaming down his face as he gasps for air, barely able to breathe through his laughter. “Oh man– You should’ve seen– When she-” He breaks off into another fit of hysterical cackling, holding his sides as if they might split from the force of it.
Atlas, ever the strong, silent type, isn’t much better. He’s still shaking with laughter, his hands resting on his knees as he bends over, his massive frame quaking with each silent chuckle. He tries to stand up straight, to get a grip, but every time he looks at me–still on the floor, writhing in agony–he loses it all over again.
Grace, meanwhile, looks like she’s about to cry. Her face is flushed red, her hands flitting nervously as she tries to figure out what to do. “Teddy, I’m so sorry, I thought you were– I don’t know, someone breaking in, I didn’t know-”
I manage to lift my head just enough to glare at her in betrayal. “You kneed me,” I groan, my voice barely a whisper. “In the balls.”
With that, something changes.
Her face, flushed with panic just moments ago, suddenly softens. Her lips quiver, not with fear, but with the unmistakable beginnings of amusement. Her eyes, wide and guilty, sparkle with a kind of realization that’s about to undo me completely.
And then she breaks.
Grace, the sweet, innocent Grace who just nearly destroyed my ability to ever have children, bursts out laughing.
It’s not a small chuckle or a nervous giggle. No, it’s full-on, belly-deep laughter that erupts from her like she’s just heard the funniest joke of her life.
“Oh my God,” she gasps between laughs, clutching her stomach as her whole body shakes with it. “I kneed you...right in the nuts!”
I’m still on the floor, clutching myself, the pain not as sharp but still throbbing, a dull reminder of the catastrophe that just occurred. I glance up, seeing all of them–the three people who mean the most to me in the world–laughing their asses off at my expense.
Grace can’t stop. She’s laughing so hard now that she’s doubled over, tears streaming down her face, her hand slapping her knee. “I didn’t mean to!” She manages to gasp out between laughs.
I groan, rolling onto my side as I try to get some semblance of breath back into my lungs. “Yeah, well,” I mutter, my voice strained with both pain and humiliation. “Glad I could entertain you.”
She gasps, trying to get a grip on herself, but every time she looks at me, curled up on the floor, it just sets her off again. “It’s just…the way you dropped– It was just– Oh my God-”
Key slams his hand on the counter, practically crying with laughter now. “Teddy, man, I’ve never seen anything like it. You went down like a tree. Timber!”
Atlas finally gives me a sympathetic look, removing his mask as he extends a hand to pull me up. “Come on, man,” he says, his voice deep and rumbling. “You’ll live.”
I take his hand, grimacing as I try to get to my feet before removing my own balaclava and tossing it on the floor. The pain is still there, but more manageable. I sigh, shaking my head as I look at her, my hands hovering protectively over my groin. “You owe me for this one, Little One.”
She grins up at me, her eyes shining with mirth. “I know. And I’ll make it up to you.”
Key, who’s finally started to calm down, wipes his eyes and looks between us, shaking his head in disbelief. “Teddy, man, you gotta admit–that was a hell of a good shot.”
Atlas chuckles, clapping me on the back. “I’ve seen you take hits that would knock most men flat, but I guess Grace here found your one weak spot.”
“Literally,” I mutter, wincing as I shift my weight, trying to shake off the lingering agony.
I think she broke my dick.
“I’m really sorry,” she says, though there’s still a playful glint in her eye. “But you should’ve warned me! You can’t just barge in here like that and expect me not to defend myself.”
“We were supposed to be surprising you,” I say, the words coming out almost petulantly. I’ve definitely been knocked down a peg.
“Well, you succeeded!” She shoots back, laughing again. “Just...maybe not in the way you planned.”
Key snickers, pulling off his balaclava and ruffling his hair. “I don’t know, Teddy. I think this was better than any plan we had.”
I groan again, but this time it’s more out of resignation than pain. “Of course you do.”
Grace steps closer, reaching out to rest a hand on my arm, her expression softening slightly. “Hey,” she says, her voice quieter now, though I can still hear the laughter bubbling beneath the surface. “I really am sorry.”
I meet her gaze, and despite everything–the pain, the humiliation–I can’t stay mad at her. Not when she’s looking at me like that, her eyes full of warmth, of love, of that mischievous spark that’s always glowing in her.
“I know,” I sigh, giving her a small, begrudging smile. “I swear to God, this better not become a thing.”
Before any of us can get another word out, there’s a loud creak from the doorway behind us.
The laughter in the room dies down instantly.
We all turn to see Jason standing there, frozen mid-step. He’s half-dressed, his shirt untucked, eyes wide, one hand limply gripping a giant candy-cane as if he’s not sure what he’s walked into, but he came armed.
For a second, none of us move.
He just stands there, staring at us, his mouth slightly open as he takes in the scene: me, still wincing in pain; Grace, flushed and still recovering from her fit of laughter; Key and Atlas both clearly enjoying the aftermath of the chaos.
“What the hell is going on in here?” Jason finally sputters, his voice a mix of confusion and...is that concern?
I blink, genuinely surprised. I’d almost forgotten he was even here. We’d left him to stew in his own mess while we lived our lives. But here he is–looking like he was about to storm in and defend Grace.
“Well,” Key starts, grinning like a maniac. “Looks like someone decided to play hero.”
Jason’s eyes flick to Grace, and there’s something there, something unexpected. Worry? Did he think...he thought she was in danger. He actually thought he was going to help her.
I’m too stunned to process it. Jason? Defending Grace? After everything?
Grace seems to catch on at the same time, her grin faltering as she stares at him, brow furrowing. “Jason? What are you doing?”
He blinks, looking from her to me, then to the others, clearly piecing together the fact that we’re not strangers here to hurt her. “I heard the door bang open and...I thought…” His voice trails off, unsure of where to go with this now that we’re all staring at him.
For a beat, no one says anything.
Atlas shifts his weight, casting a bored glance in Jason’s direction, but says nothing. Key just rolls his eyes, leaning against the counter like this entire situation is beneath him. Grace blinks once, twice, her expression hovering somewhere between disbelief and irritation.
Then, without a word, she turns back to me.
“So,” Grace says brightly, ignoring Jason’s very existence, her eyes narrowing suspiciously as she crosses her arms, “Was all this supposed to be that thing we talked about earlier?”
I blink, still recovering from the pain, but her question hangs in the air, and I can see the mischief brewing behind her eyes.
Atlas raises an eyebrow at her, and Key barely stifles a laugh.
I manage a smirk, though I’m still feeling the effects of her defense mechanism. “Maybe.”
Grace’s lips part in surprise, and then she lets out a sharp laugh. Atlas chuckles, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “That was the idea.”
Key bursts out laughing, unable to hold it in any longer. “Yup! We were going for the whole kidnap you, make you feel like you’re in danger bit.”
Grace giggles. “And then I accidentally lived up to my nickname once again.”
Key is practically bent over, clutching his stomach. “Oh, you definitely did! Right in the middle of our big, dramatic entrance!”
I groan, trying to stand up straighter despite the lingering ache. “Yeah, well, we weren’t expecting that part.”
Grace doubles over, laughing so hard her shoulders shake. “You mean...you guys were all geared up, trying to be all dangerous and intense, and I just ruined the whole thing by taking you down with one knee?”
“That’s pretty much it,” I mutter, rubbing my manhood. The pain has dulled, but my pride is still smarting.
Atlas snorts, shaking his head as he leans back against the wall, arms crossed. “Let’s just say, it didn’t exactly go as planned.”
“Well,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “If you’re done trying to incapacitate me, maybe we can get back to what we were actually doing.”
Grace tilts her head, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Hm, and what’s that, exactly?”
I smirk, leaning in just enough so only she can hear. “Giving you exactly what you asked for.”
Her breath catches, and for a second, the teasing falls away, replaced by something heavier, something that hums between us, electric and undeniable.
“Is that right?” She murmurs, her voice low.
“Damn right it is,” I say, my voice rougher now, more serious. “And trust me, Little One. It’s going to be a lot more fun when you’re not trying to take me out in the process.”
She laughs softly, her eyes sparkling as she leans into me, her hand resting on my chest. “I’ll be gentle,” she whispers, her voice teasing.
I grin, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close, ignoring the pain still lingering between my legs. “I won’t.”
And with that, Jason becomes a distant memory–nothing more than a forgotten figure as we return to the moment, to each other, like he never existed in the first place.