Chapter 7 #4
“I’ve got insomnia anyway,” Ash admits with a sigh, a white towel slung around his neck as he pauses beside us.
There’s plenty of him to feast on, too. His K-pop haircut ended up being perfect for his face.
I wish it weren’t wet, so I could admire his new ‘do the way I’m admiring Widow’s.
Ash stares at me with huge, dark eyes, those two galaxies on his face that tell all his secrets if you know how to look deep enough into them.
Doki-doki goes my heart. “It’s nice of Adrian to offer to stay up with—”
“You’re not staying up alone.” I fold my arms, staring Ash down as his inked left hand lifts nervously to the side of his wet neck, like he can sense I don’t fully trust him not to sacrifice himself.
“Adrian is super excited to stay up and hang out with you. Talk books and shit. Be bros together.” I lean in toward them both, my dark hair damp and braided and hanging over my left shoulder.
“If you want to talk sex, do that, too. Tell each other how good I feel. How tight I am. How hard these pussy walls clamp down when I’m coming. Compare notes. Be as lewd as you want.”
Bohnes appears in the bathroom doorway.
“They can discuss your pussy however they want.” His smile is what nightmares are made of, something unholy that lurks in the dark.
Something that you can’t guarantee exists at all.
Something you try to fall back asleep for, just so you can see it again.
He’s all that and more. Without him, tonight would’ve been messy and unpredictable.
We’d have managed, but not so easily. Bohnes is more than just my wet dream: the other three boys should worship him, too.
“I, personally, am going to fuck that pussy and forget all about the favor I wasted on a bunch of meth heads. Come, my little crow.”
He holds out his inked hand as I grin and refuse to take it.
“But didn’t you just jizz on the floor?” I tap a thoughtful finger against my chin. “You sure you can go again so soon?”
“Are you insulting me?” Bohnes drags me off the counter, yanking my body up against his. “If so, I’ll go all night and you can waddle your way into P-Trip.”
I punch Bohnes in the nipple and he hisses in pleasure.
Ash is flushed, which is crazy considering some of the things we’ve done together, and Widow is heated, his amber eyes on fire. Probably regretting volunteering his time to babysit Ash. He was enthusiastic about it, too, when he offered. I never asked.
Bohnes escorts me to the bed as the other two take up the comfortable armchairs that sit on either side of the coffee table.
Yep. All of that just inside the bedroom.
This house is enormous, and we’ve been so busy that I haven’t had a proper chance to tour it.
That annoys me. My honeymoon, my housewarming, and my wedding have all been interrupted by bullshit.
Alexei is waiting for me when I climb into bed, lying on his back with an ebony hand resting against his ivory forehead. He’s staring up through the dark in the direction of the ceiling, turning his head when I slide under the covers next to him.
His expression is pained, almost tortured. Wasn’t he fine just a few minutes ago? Playful, really.
Something is bothering Alexei, and it’s not the blow job, the massacre, or the mob’s conditions.
It’s this house, and all the memories of his father. Has to be.
He’s never been able to grieve. I understand him completely. I also understand how good it feels to let go with some sort of ritual. Changing the way he feels about his dad’s office would be a good start.
Bohnes crawls over me, pinning me underneath his comforting weight.
My arms go around his neck, and that’s it. I’m completely and utterly lost in him.
Although…it still feels weird to have sex with him in a bed.
The dark, cold woods, with the smell of mud and gasoline and cigarettes, that suits us better. But it’s not those good memories or the track or even my gram’s place that are home to me. Not anymore. He is. They are. We are.
We are home.
If I had one message for our enemies, it’d be this: enter at your own risk.
We fight as hard as we fuck in this house.
Once Bohnes and I are finished, I’m the one to crawl over Alexei. He takes my face in his gloved hands and pulls me down for passionate kisses while I ride him.
Afterwards, I curl up against Alexei’s chest and fall asleep with a man on either side of me. If I didn’t already feel safe with them, I would now. Four dudes. Ten dead goons. And it was easy for these boys.
“It’s cute, how emotional Scar gets when we’re making love,” Widow whispers to Ash. He thinks he’s being facetious, teasing me even though we’re nowhere near one another. Really, it’s precious how vulnerable he’s being with the fuckboy he hated and wanted dead.
“Did she cry when you held her?” Ash wonders, his voice soft, the exact opposite of Widow’s. He’s trying to keep this between the pair of them, so I can’t hear.
“Nope.”
“If I’d died, do you think she’d have cried then?”
“Ash, I don’t think she’d survive your death. None of us would.”