42
SCOTTY
“HAVOC, COME OUT! I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE! I CAN’T STAY AWAY! I CAN’T FUCKING DO IT! I COULDN’T SLEEP, COULD HARDLY brEATHE! I SWEAR I TRIED! BUT I NEED YOU! I’M NOT SOMEONE WHO CAN GIVE YOU SPACE! JUST GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING HEART! I’LL TAKE SUCH GOOD FUCKING CARE OF IT, I PROMISE!”
“What is he doing?” Tiger stage-whispers from beside me as we both observe Tate, looking at him like he’s insane.
Well, he might be, but that’s not the point.
“I don’t know,” I say warily, arms crossed over my chest. “Could he be having a . . . psychotic break? I don’t . . .” In all seriousness, I am concerned. Tate’s never appeared the most stable, and I worry he very well could be having hallucinations.
Alby’s door slides open with a gentle woosh, and the quiet boy himself comes out, still in his black pyjama top and shorts and rubbing at groggy eyes.
At the same time, Cooper storms out of his own bedroom much more aggressively.
“Bloody hell, what the fuck are you doing?” he grouches.
“There’s still an hour before we’re meant to be up to get ready for training. ”
Tate doesn’t seem to hear him. “I HAVE TO KISS YOU AGAIN, BABY! PLEASE! I’LL DO ANYTHING!”
My brows furrow. Hells, this is bad if he really thinks he kissed her.
“She’s not fucking here, man. Are you having an episode?”
“Cooper,” I snap, glaring at him for his insensitivity.
Tate finally whips himself around, only in his boxer briefs because he clearly couldn’t be bothered to put some shorts on.
“I’m not insane. I—” His voice breaks, and everyone straightens, snapping to attention.
“I swear I’m not fucking insane. Havoc is in there .
. . I—I was with her last night. She came in the middle of the night, and I .
. .” His entire face softens, and he almost has that dreamy look my brother always does around our Bonded that makes him appear as if he’s about to start picking flowers and skipping about in the grass they came from.
“It was the best moment of my life. So precious. And she smelled like hot cinnamon again.”
“She what?” Cooper appears floored, and my brows dip even lower, the look now aimed his way rather than Tate’s. Then he chuckles to himself. “Holy shit,” he mutters under his breath. “HC.”
“HC?” Tiger asks, confused, his expressive face displaying his curiosity for the world to see. “What does that mean?”
Cooper’s head snaps up like he’d forgotten we were here, and Tate’s eyes narrow on him, all the focus now drawn to Cooper as his face turns red like I’ve never seen before. “Ah . . . uh . . .”
“Spit it out, dickface,” Tate mutters.
A scowl is thrown his way. “HC . . .” He scratches at his dark head of hair and looks away, not meeting anyone’s eyes as he mumbles, “It stands for ‘Hot Cinnamon’.”
It’s only a moment before the light bulb pings on in my mind. “Ah.” I smirk, rubbing a hand over my mouth to try and hide it.
Tate’s face is like thunder, eyes drilling into Cooper as though he could strike him down with the rampaging lightning bolts in them. “You knew? How the fuck did you know? You tasted my girl?”
Cooper’s brown eyes slit.
Here we fucking go.
“No, I haven’t tasted our girl. I guess I just thought .
. .” His flush expands to his hairline and paints his ears.
I really didn’t know he could get flustered like this.
“I thought that’s what she might taste like?
Or just . . . is like in general? You know, like .
. . spicy and fiery, but also sweet-tasting .
. . ?” By the end of his explanation, his voice has completely lost momentum, almost a whisper, and he glowers at the floor like it’s the taalk’s fault he was put in this position.
“You’ve been fantasising about my girl?”
“Uh, nope! Nope, nope, nope. Nopedidy nope! Fuck no! We’re not going back to this!
” Tate stops in his tracks where he’d been about to beat Cooper to death, head whipping my brother’s way as he continues vehemently, “She’s ours, remember?
And that doesn’t make her any less yours.
You can still have your special moments with her, and by the sounds of it, you did!
Please share more on that! I’m very interested! ”
It works like a charm, and I want to pat Tiger on the back for such an excellent job well done: Tate’s expression immediately smooths back out into that dreamy, longing expression as he sighs, “She’s everything.
She’s so fucking gorgeous, and I just want to unpick her pretty little mind and discover everything, make a home in there, too.
” He places a hand on his chest. “Fuck, my heart was pounding even more aggressively than my cock.” I knew that appendage would be mentioned somewhere.
“Like proper ba-boom, ya know?” We all nod sagely.
“And I was so close to her, and she was so close to me, and her skin was on mine, and my skin was on hers . . .” His grey eyes darken to black pools in an instant.
“And then I was fucking her dry against the wall. Right into that swollen little pussy of hers.”
Alby squeaks, face the colour of a skilled Exot’s Avri.
My cock has risen to full attention as I imagine the scene and how Ezla would’ve looked so stunning receiving that pleasure, and I subtly shift to try to hide the greedy thing.
“And . . . you’re sure this wasn’t a dream or . . . anything?” To his credit, Cooper tries to be more tactful with his words this time. But Tate’s face hardens, and he glances around at all of us, almost . . . hurt.
“I know you guys might not believe this, but I’m really not insane.
At least, not like that. I don’t have hallucinations or shit like that.
I might be a little fucked in the head, but I don’t .
. . I know what’s real . . . I know what’s right in front of me and what’s not. She’s . . . Havoc was here.”
My features soften, and guilt at my earlier thoughts twinges inside of me.
Heading over, I pull him into a short hug and give him an apologetic slap on the back, and he stiffens in surprise.
“Sorry, man. That was shitty of us. We know—she was here. We believe you.” Glancing over at Cooper, he nods resolutely, and I sigh in relief.
When I move back to give him room, Tate’s gaze roams over us all with something raw in it, and he clears his throat, voice coming out even deeper than normal as he says, “That . . . Thank you.” And although I honestly do believe he doesn’t care about his briefly mentioned parents, I think something might have just healed marginally in him that he himself may not have known was fractured because of them.
***
Training went by as usual that day, with us back in the Ground Training room working on landing on Ezla’s Avri jet to prepare for Game 4. I’m pretty happy with the progress we’re making.
However, I am not happy that my Bonded fired a goddamn missile at me to “make me feel how I would in the actual Game and act without letting the panic take over”.
Luckily, I jumped in time to remain in one piece and my Avri sucked back into the pads on my boots before it could be blown to smithereens and take forever to reload.
But still, that was just fucking obscene, and it’s extremely concerning to wonder why on earth her training methods are so dangerous.
Who taught her? It’s never been disclosed which school she came from, and not even the other Exots seem to know, so I’ve considered it likely she might’ve been homeschooled with a private instructor.
It’s early morning now as I walk into the dining room— And still immediately at the sight of an unmasked Ezla sat in one of the chairs at the table.
My throat works. “Love.”
“Love?! Ezzy’s here, everyone!” Tiger bellows from across our Bonded chambers.
What the fuck? Has my brother now got supersonic hearing?
The pounding of feet has me moving to the side to give the other Evots space before I get trampled on, and then Tiger’s there, the rest of my new brothers behind him, his Avri suit only half on so his bare chest is on full display.
I’m sure Ezla is thrilled.
Except when I look back at our Bonded, I find my sarcasm may be unfounded as her eyes trail over his naked skin, even if her face is as unfeeling as always.
I scrutinise her, but I can’t be overly sure what she’s thinking, and it irritates me when I can normally read everyone so easily, and yet the one person I want to uncover the most doesn’t give me anything to work with.
Tiger clearly interprets her look very positively as his entire being lights up with the force of the Sun, and he lifts an arm and flexes his bicep, then kisses it. “Yeah, Ezzy, look at me. You can have all this, Nightshade—just say the word.”
Her expression remains blank.
My brother doesn’t care. “Would you like to see more?” He spins around before she can answer, Alby inching past him discreetly, drawing more attention than he bargained for when Ezla’s mismatched stare shifts from my brother to track his hunched form across the room.
Tiger flexes his back muscles, oblivious to her wandering attention.
“See, look at that slab of meat.” Slab of meat?
Does he want her to objectify him or what?
Is that the goal here? “Want you to use me.” That answers that.
“But at the end of the day, I’ll know you really love me when I wear your nail marks on my back to show everyone who I belong to. ”
Ezla’s eyes have found him again, and when he turns back around, she says evenly, though I could swear there’s a hint of something sharp there, “If you were mine, I would not want you flaunting your naked top half to other women.”
My brother blinks. Then a slow grin curves his lips. “Oooooh . . . Wifey, that was so sexy and possessive.”
“Agreed,” Tate grunts, striding over to our Bonded before dumping his large body in the seat beside hers. His eyelids fall closed as he leans closer to her neck to get a whiff of her scent. “Fucking delicious.”