by Tate James
Was I okay? After having just attended Cass's funeral, then been paid a visit from my dead ex-fiancé who was determined to break me in every possible way? No. Not even close to okay.
"She's fine," Zed answered for me, giving me a quick glance from the side of his eye as he drove. As mad as he still was, he cared. He understood. I was far from fine. Lucas knew it too. But it was sweet of him to ask, anyway, just in case I felt like talking about it all.
"I'm fine," I agreed with a heavy sigh. I shook my head, trying to clear the gut-wrenching images of shooting Cass that had just resurfaced, and scrubbed a hand through my hair. Fucking hell, I was one step away from a mental breakdown.
Lucas was silent a moment, then undid his seat belt and leaned over to pop open the glove box in front of me. "Here," he said, grabbing out Zed's flask of whiskey and handing it to me.
"Hey," Zed protested, shooting Lucas a scowl as the grinning stripper sat back into his seat. "How the fuck did you know that was there?"
I turned my face slightly, so I could see Lucas roll his eyes.
"You guys seriously underestimate how observant I am, huh?" He gave me a soft smile, showing he wasn't actually offended.
I unscrewed the cap of the flask and took a long drink of the liquor. It barely even burned as it joined the whiskey already in my stomach and did nothing to shake my melancholy mood. Not that I was surprised. There really was only one thing—one person—who had any hope of improving my mood, and we'd just left his funeral.
"I'm just tired," I admitted in a whisper. "I need a vacation."
Zed snorted a bitter laugh. "You can say that again."
I took another gulp of the whiskey, then passed it back to Lucas. It wasn't a long drive back to Zed's house, but the relief I felt on passing through his heavily secured main gates was palpable. It was weird how rapidly I'd adjusted to thinking of Zed's house as my home, but it was. More, even, than my apartment had ever been.
"Have you spoken to Seph?" Zed asked as he waited for the garage door to open.
I gave a small nod. "Briefly. She sent me a message yesterday to let me know she was still safe at Demi's and to tell me I was dead to her."
Zed grimaced. "She needs a solid dose of truth to pull her head out of her ass." It was an old argument where Zed felt like Seph needed to be told the whole sordid story of the real Timberwolves and why I'd eventually murdered our father and his whole loyal inner circle.
I snapped a sharp glare at him. "She needs nothing of the sort," I growled. "Leave her be. Ignorance is bliss; leave her that much."
Zed just grunted, and I knew he was far from in agreement with me. But he wouldn't directly disobey. Not over this.
Irritated, I climbed out of the car without waiting for him to turn it off and started into the house without another word, but Zed called out after me, nonetheless.
"Dinner will be ready at seven, Dare."
I just flipped him off over my shoulder and continued inside ahead of him and Lucas both. My shoulders ached, my head was throbbing, and my heart hurt. I wanted nothing more than to get back to my room, so I increased my pace until I was just a step off running and all but crashed through my door.
Only after I closed it and turned the lock did I feel like I could really breathe again. Like the tense, depressing day was all worth it.
4
A strong arm banded around my waist, lifting me slightly off the ground and making me gasp.
"You couldn't have cried even a little bit?"
I melted into the broad, hard frame at my back and gave a soft laugh. "Hell no. I've given you enough of my tears to last a lifetime."
His teeth scraped my neck in a teasing bite. "Damn, Angel. Not even crying at my funeral. Tough crowd."
I twisted in his one-armed grip and smiled up at his ruggedly handsome face. "Because you're not really dead, you asshole. You can only get me to cry when I think maybe you are, and I'd really, really prefer we didn't play that game again. Okay?"
Cass's lips pulled up in a lopsided grin. "I think we can agree on that one."
I blew out my breath in a sigh as I smoothed my fingers over the dressing that covered the side of his head and part of his ear. Then I stroked my palm ever so gently over his shoulder where his left arm was held suspended in a sling.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered for the thousandth time since shooting him.
He gripped my chin with his free hand, bringing my mouth to his for a long, lingering kiss. "Stop apologizing, Red," he murmured against my lips. "You did what you had to."
It still didn't make me feel like any less of an asshole. Our plan had been to shoot him in the chest where he wore a slim Kevlar vest. But when I'd seen where Chase had been positioned and the way the shadows were falling across the room, I'd known he wouldn't have been fooled. Not unless I made it as real as possible. So I'd done exactly what Chase had expected. Two bullets to the chest—one on the vest as planned and one through his shoulder to cause a believable bleeder. Then the headshot. That was the one that still made me feel sick when I thought about it. My hand had already been shaking from shooting Cass twice, and my bullet that was intended for the wine behind him had actually connected.
"I can't believe you watched your own funeral," I told him with a short laugh, changing the subject as I pulled away from his embrace and headed over to the huge flat-screen that now showed an empty chapel.
Cass followed me and picked up the remote to turn the screen off. "Why not? It's half the fun of being dead."
I bit my lip and shook my head. "The Reapers are going to be beyond pissed if they find out you're still alive."
Cass shrugged and threaded his fingers into my hair, twisting the strands and tugging my face back to meet my eyes. "Fuck them," he growled. "You're the only person on this whole damn planet I care about, Red. If that means playing dead for the rest of my damn life, then I'll do it."
My heart thumped against my ribs, and warmth rushed through my veins. "You're crazy, Saint," I whispered.
He gave me a faint smirk. "Crazy in love with you, Angel," he replied, then kissed me until I forgot how cheesy that line had been. Hell, he kissed me until I barely even remembered my name. But the point remained the same. He might be crazy in love with me, but the feeling was mutual. There wasn't anything I wouldn't do for him, including help fake his death.
My only regret was hiding our plan from Zed and Lucas. That was an oversight I was still trying to mend, but I simply had no good excuse. There was no plausible reason why Cass and I would keep that plan between the two of us... except that we hadn't known we were going through with it until it happened. It'd been a back-up plan at best.
"Is Roach doing what he needs to do?" Cass asked, pulling away to meet my eyes with a concerned frown. This was the part he hated, where he had to lie low at Zed's house and let everyone else continue like he truly was dead.
I nodded. "He is. The small amount of PCP you let through has all been recovered, and the Reapers who'd flipped to Chase's side are already dissolving in a vat of acid up in Canada. He'll do well, I think."
Cass gave a small nod. "And if he doesn't"—he shrugged—"I'll take care of it."
He tugged lightly on my hair, tilting my head back up again. "You look exhausted."
My answering smile was weak. "No shit. You have no idea how hard that was to sit there at your funeral and remember how close I’d come to losing you. Fuck, Saint, if my bullet had landed an inch to the left—"
"It didn't, though." He was firm in cutting me off. "So what do I have to do to make you forget about it?"
Warmth blossomed in my belly, and a sly grin curved my lips. "You're injured and supposed to be on bed rest."
"Fuck that," he grunted. "I don't need bed rest for a shoulder injury." His fingers released my hair and tugged the zipper of my dress down. The fabric slipped easily down my body, pooled at my feet, and left me in a strapless bra and thong set.
"Cass..." I started to say, but he cut off my flimsy
protest with a searing hot kiss, stealing the breath from my lungs and filling me with burning desire.
I moaned against his mouth, curving my body against him as he deftly flicked open my bra clasp one handed, then tugged at the side of my thong. The message was clear as day, but after the day I'd had, I'd earned a bit of fun. So I slapped his hand away and danced out of his reach.
"Cassiel Saint, you're recovering from two bullet wounds and a hell of a bruise from the one that hit your vest. You're in no shape to be—" My teasing was cut short with a small shriek as he damn near tackled me onto the bed and flipped me over onto my stomach, and I dissolved into laughter.
"What was that, Angel?" he retorted, slipping his fingers under my thong and straight into my cunt. My laugh quickly shifted to a moan as I arched my back and pushed against his hand. Fucking hell, for only having one hand, he was far from awkward.
When I didn't reply, he stroked a finger over my clit, making me shiver. "That's what I thought. Now take this off before I tear it off with my teeth." He flicked the elastic of my thong, and I gave a small growl of protest. But I was also intuitive enough to recognize the shift in his tone, so I quickly scrambled to do as instructed.
"Cass," I warned, looking at him over my shoulder as he coaxed me onto my knees in the middle of the bed. "If you—"
"I'm fine," he growled back at me, undoing his belt and jeans with deft movements. "Trust me, Red; I'm a big boy."
The timing of that statement as he released his cock from his pants couldn't have been more perfect, and I licked my lips. "Hell yeah, you are."
He chuckled at my lame joke, his fingers wrapped around his inked dick as he met my eyes. "Face against the mattress, Angel. Don't move unless you're told."
Hot arousal filled my veins, and I did as he said, leaving my ass up in the air and on full display for his hungry gaze. "Happy?" I asked, an edge of teasing sass in my voice.
His gaze darkened, and his palm cracked against my ass cheek. "Not yet," he muttered, smoothing his hand over the sting in my flesh as I groaned and tried really hard not to move, per his direction. "But I can't think of a better way to celebrate my own death than this."
He thrust into me, his thick cock filling me up and making me gasp. He gripped one of my hips, pulling me back onto him as he pushed deeper. Then he smacked my ass again, and I yelped.
"Holy shit, Red," he hissed, his fingers kneading the hot skin of my cheek. "Fuck you're tight."
I almost laughed at that comment. He'd literally just smacked my ass so hard I yelped; of fucking course my pussy had reacted like a vice. But he started moving in me before I could get my sassy comment out, and within moments I'd totally forgotten what I was going to say.
Cass's one-armed grip on me was possessive and desperate, but I was finding it hard not to writhe. I wanted his other hand in play so damn badly. I wanted him to play with my clit or finger my ass or pull my fucking hair. Shit. I wanted all of that... all at once.
"Saint," I moaned, "let me ride you."
His rhythm faltered, and his breathing spiked. I thought for a second he would refuse, but then he pulled out and moved to sit on the edge of the mattress.
Grinning my victory, I scrambled into his lap and sank down onto his slick shaft. My knees met the bed on either side of his hips, his jeans were barely even pulled down to mid-thigh, and my arms looped around his neck.
"Say it," he demanded, his fingers tangling in the back of my hair. I loved how he did that. It was one of his favorite things to do when we kissed, and it never failed to soak my panties, no matter what situation we were in.
I grinned, running my tongue over my lower lip as I clenched my pelvic floor and rocked my hips. "You first," I replied.
His dark eyes glittered at my defiance, but I knew I was getting my way. This time. His teeth scraped over my jaw, then nipped at my earlobe before he uttered some of the sweetest words on earth.
"I fucking love you, Red."
A deep shiver ran through me at the deep rumble of his confession in my ear, and I damn near came right then and there. He wasn't letting me off the hook so easily, though. Apparently, him trusting me to kill him without actually killing him meant that I wasn't allowed to gatekeep my own feelings anymore.
"Red..." he growled, his fingers releasing my hair and wrapping around my throat instead. "Anything you want to say?"
I tilted my head back, meeting his eyes as I rocked against him, feeling the sweet ache of his thickness buried deep within me. "I love you too, Saint," I whispered, then crashed my lips into his for one of those soul-deep kisses he was so damn good at giving.
It was only a couple of moments before I got restless and started fucking him properly, rising and falling with my fingers gripping his shoulders and his teeth nipping the flesh of my throat. His hand gripped my bare breast, his fingers playing rough with my aching nipple until I thought I was about to explode.
The bedroom door crashed open, and I flinched slightly in shock.
"Are you fucking serious, Dare?" Zed roared, meeting my eyes with blazing fury.
I couldn't help myself. I smirked back at him. "I'm seriously fucking, yeah."
Cass kissed the side of my neck, his choppy breath the only hint that he was all kinds of amused. "Tease," he whispered against my damp skin.
"Dare—" Zed exclaimed, but his anger was drastically undermined by the heated way his eyes ran down my naked body and the way his breath hitched.
"Zed," I replied, sarcastic as hell. "Can this conversation wait until after I come? I was right there when you interrupted."
His jaw dropped. I could only assume it was at my audacity, but what the fuck did he expect? No way in hell was I letting him bust in here and ruin my orgasm. I'd had a rough day, and I deserved to get my rocks off, dammit.
With a shrug, I dismissed him from my mind and sealed my lips back against Cass's as I started riding him once more. I wasn't joking either, I’d been within sight of my climax when Zed had busted in, and now I needed to chase it down all over again.
Surprisingly, it hadn't gone far. Zed's presence wasn't even slightly cooling the bonfire of arousal inside me. Hell, if anything, he was just stoking the flames hotter.
"Fuck this," my friend muttered, and I assumed he was leaving. So imagine my shock when he grabbed a handful of my hair and wrenched my lips away from Cass. I barely had enough time to gasp before Zed crashed his mouth against mine, his tongue sweeping into my mouth and stealing the kiss.
A small squeak of shock and protest escaped when he released my lips a moment. But then he was kissing me again, and this time I was helpless to do anything but kiss him back.
Cass gripped my hip, shifting his position and taking over the work, thrusting up into my soaking pussy as Zed kissed me dizzy with one hand in my hair and the other cupping my face.
But then Zed released my face and put that hand to much, much better use.
"Oh fuck," I gasped against his mouth when his fingers found my throbbing clit. My whole body was coiled so fucking tight I was positive I was going to snap any second. Zed was playing with me, though, circling around my clit, teasing me, and driving me wild. It wasn't until I was trembling and my breath coming in short, sharp gasps that he finally gave me what I so desperately craved.
His index and middle fingers pinched my clit, and I shattered. Zed continued kissing me, swallowing my screams, and Cass fucked me even harder as my cunt tightened and spasmed around his cock. A second later, Cass joined me in climax, his hot seed pumping into me with a few hard strokes as I shuddered and moaned, my lips still against Zed's.
He kissed me once more, then straightened up and held my gaze unblinking as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them.
"Dinner's ready," he announced in a rough voice, his cheeks flushed and his pants tight. "I think we're all overdue for an honest conversation, don't you?"
I swallowed hard, words failing me. But he didn't need my response. He just gave me a knowing look and e
xited the room.
What the fuck just happened?
"That..." Cass murmured, kissing my throat. "Was hotter than I’d anticipated. Looks like Zed is done with sitting on the sidelines."
I gave him a startled look, then quickly realized he was dead right. Zed was done waiting for me to come to him, and that could only spell disaster for our friendship. Groaning in frustration, I rested my forehead on Cass's shoulder. He still wore his T-shirt, it being too difficult to undress with a sling on, but I was stark naked.
"Fucking hell," I cursed, then raised my head to meet his eyes. "It was hot, though. Jesus, I'm screwed."
Cass huffed a short laugh. "Literally. I reckon Zed could wait a couple of minutes if you want help in the shower." The tiny curve to his lips was pure mischief, and I could practically see his intention painted across his ruggedly handsome face.
Rolling my eyes, I climbed off his lap and snatched my robe from the back of the door. "And I thought Lucas had stamina," I muttered, then threw him a look over my shoulder. "Coming?"
He couldn't fuck me in the shower, not with his arm incapacitated. But we were nothing if not imaginative, and Cass did love to show off his tongue skills.
5
Zed and Lucas were both waiting for us at the dining table when we eventually came downstairs, and the look Zed gave me almost made me trip. It was pure, unfiltered desire, and I needed to swallow hard to shake away the so-recent sensations of his lips against mine and his fingers between my legs.
"Shit, you look rough, grandpa," Lucas told Cass with a grin. "Aren't you supposed to be resting or some shit?"
Cass scowled over at Lucas. "You're one to fucking talk, Gumdrop. I took a bullet to the shoulder; you got stabbed in the chest, beaten, and branded. I don't recall you resting for long either."
Lucas smirked. "Touché."