Saint appeared right on seven thirty with his shirt tucked into the back of his pants. I liked that bit. His body was pure, cut muscle and I had to admit that that hour and a half in the gym twice a day was supremely worth it just for my one minute eye fuck while he headed upstairs. He never looked at me. I wasn’t acknowledged until he decided it.
I headed to the kitchen and started making breakfast. I actually enjoyed this part of my morning the most. Cooking was soothing. And for those sweet thirty minutes it took to prepare everything, my mind sailed away and I kinda got into the dramatic rise and fall of the classical music filling the entire church. If it hadn’t been a reminder of Saint, I might have even found it peaceful. But there was always an undertone to it. And that undertone was him.
It was Saturday and there had been zero sign of Blake or Kyan; I wondered if they were gonna show up for breakfast at all. I imagined Saint’s perfect little routine didn’t extend to them when they didn’t have to go to school, but I hadn’t been given any other instructions. So they would just have to eat it cold or not at all. Or they’ll just make me cook it all over again, dammit.
I opted for muesli with fresh fruit and yoghurt myself. Saint didn’t let me have anything fried, too sugary or too tasty. The muesli was something I’d found that not only helped with my sugar cravings, but actually tasted good. So I guessed that was a win. But if you looked really closely at it, it was definitely a fail. My usual breakfasts consisted of toast with jam and at the weekends I’d always have waffles, ice cream and strawberries with my dad and Jess. It had been our Saturday morning tradition since before I could remember. And that memory stung me now with the keenness of an angry wasp.
Just before eight am Saint’s music cut off and he reappeared in a fitted white T-shirt and dark, designer jeans, a chunky Rolex on his wrist and a pair of AllSaints army boots which looked ripe for kicking heads in. If Saint looked divine in his school uniform, he looked transcendent like this. He wore casual clothes like they were the finest tuxedo in the world. And the way his muscles bulged against them made me one jealous ass bitch of that shirt. Down girl. Sometimes it felt like that wild part of me was growing bigger, taking over. But I had to keep her locked up tight. Because if she ever got free, she was gonna lead me right into one of their beds, naked, panting and aiming to please.
Saint sat in the middle seat as usual, picking up his knife and fork, just as I placed his plate in front of him. Eight am sharp. I was more punctual than a freaking Stepford wife.
Saint took a bite of his meal and I waited. If the toast wasn’t perfect – golden brown but not overdone Barbie doll!– or the eggs weren’t salty enough or the avocado wasn’t the epitome of ripe, then I was gonna have to do it again. So far, I’d only had one day where I’d fucked it up. And that had been the avocado’s fault.
I’d tried to explain to Saint that if he expected to get perfect avocados through the rest of this pandemic, he was going to be seriously disappointed. Even as it was, I was limited to the stash we had. Half of them were on the turn already and the rest weren’t ripe enough. The avocado was a fickle mistress that was going to cause me a lot of unnecessary spanks if Saint didn’t learn that it was out of my control. But then that concept was obviously unknown to him. In the past, I’m sure he would have had people to walk miles and miles barefooted on broken glass just to get him a perfectly ripe avocado for his breakfast. Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to suck up the spanking like a bad girl…
Saint nodded to approve his breakfast. Damn.
I headed to the kitchen to fetch my own, definitely not disappointed and definitely definitely not considering knocking some shit on the floor to earn myself a spanking.
Blake appeared with a broad yawn, shirtless and drawing all of my attention to his huge chest for a long second. I headed to the oven, grabbing out his plate of pancakes and wondering how my life had come to this. I’d never imagined myself as a house wife, not that I had any disrespect for that life path. Each to their own and all. But I’d never even seen myself getting married. My mom had ditched out on my dad when I was so young that I hadn’t even realised most kids had two parents until I’d joined elementary school. And I’d moved around so much that I’d rarely gotten to know any of my friends’ parents.
Between Dad and the nannies, that was what seemed normal to me. And why would I choose to be with someone who could up and walk out the second things got too hard? No, in one sense, me and Saint agreed. I knew the people in this world who were always going to be there for me. And I never intended to add any more people into that small circle. Very small circle.
Blake’s eyes slid down my little white nightdress and he licked his lips, though I wasn’t sure he was aware he was doing it. The action reminded me of his tongue between my thighs and I battled the heat snaking up into my cheeks as he continued to look at me like I was his breakfast instead of the pancakes. I was half tempted to grab a bottle of syrup and squeeze it all over me in case he’d really mistaken me for his food. Except the moment I ever let Blake Bowman get his hands on me again would be the same day the trees grew from the sky and the lake turned pink.
“What’s with the nice clothes, Saint?” Blake growled. “Our Cinderella should be in rags.”
Saint tsked. “I wouldn’t let the rats in the catacombs show up without their best attire, Blake. Do you really think I’d let Plague look anything but perfect?”
“Maybe it shouldn’t be up to you,” I said to Saint, watching from the corner of my eye as Blake’s hands curled into fists.
“Yeah,” Blake growled, fixing Saint in his sights. “Maybe it shouldn’t.”
“If you want to dress her like a gutter whore when I’m not around, be my guest,” Saint said with a shrug. “But whenever she’s within my range of sight, she will look like a fucking queen. Besides, the way you keep looking at her says you appreciate it just fine. So stop with the complaints.”
Blake slammed his hand down on the table with a snarl, making my heart leap in my chest. “I’m looking at her like what she is: the spawn of the devil.”
“Do you always lust over the devil’s spawn?” I asked airily. “Only that means you must get hard for Saint all the time.”
“Shut your smart mouth,” Blake snapped as Saint eyed me like he was about to step in too. But he sat back as Blake closed in on me, letting him deal with me. And from the look in Blake’s dark green eyes, that was the more frightening option right then.
He stepped past me, moving to the refrigerator and ripping open the freezer compartment. I watched him with my heart pounding out of rhythm, the tension in his body sending a flicker of fear through me. He took out a bag of ice, planting it on the counter before beckoning me closer and kicking the freezer door shut.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as I approached and he ripped the bag open, tipping the whole lot into the sink so it was half full of ice. Blake caught my arm, yanking me close and placing me in front of it. He stood behind me, gripping my wrists and walking me forward with his crotch pressing to my ass. I clenched my jaw as he shoved my hands deep into the ice and I flinched at the bite of cold. He released his grip on me, resting his hands either side of the sink as his body crushed me in place.
The ice burned against my skin and I shut my eyes, falling into that deep space of calm inside me. I’d faced a thousand hardships in my training. Dad had made me dive into a freezing lake every time we took a trip to Alaska. This was nothing compared to that. I could still feel the kiss of pain that licked over my skin and the rush of goosebumps fleeing up my arms and making my nipples harden. But this torture wasn’t the worst I’d faced.
“How does it feel, Cinders?” Blake purred in my ear.
“It feels…long and hard and throbbing,” I said, fighting a smirk.
“What?” he snapped.
“Oh sorry, I thought you meant your cock,” I said innocently.
Blake yanked my hands out of the ice and I gasped as he grabbed a handful of it from th
e sink, yanked up my nightdress and shoved it into my panties. I yelped in alarm, slamming my shoulders back against him as I tried to escape the cage of his body. Saint was laughing and the sound made my skin prickle all over. I reached frantically between my legs to get rid of it, but Blake caught my wrists to stop me and I groaned in discomfort as the ice pressed against my sensitive flesh.
“You’re the one who needs to cool down, Cinders,” he growled in my ear. “And if you lie about me again, I’ll put you in an entire bath tub of ice. Naked.”
I bit my tongue on a comeback, the swell of his dick against my ass so obvious it was a joke. But I did not wanna be stripped down and forced into a freezing bath.
“Are we clear?” Blake snarled and I nodded in agreement.
The ice started to melt, dripping down the insides of my legs and I panted as it started to feel weirdly good.
No, god no, this is not okay.
With Blake’s hard on pressed to my ass and my skin beginning to tingle with heat, I couldn’t help involuntarily grinding back against him. It was totally shameless, but I simply couldn’t help it.
Blake growled low in my ear then released me suddenly, marching away. I turned, flustered as I watched him snatch up his plate of food, taking it to the couch and eating it in front of the television without a word of thanks. Not that I expected any.
“If you have to eat like a savage then at least use a fucking napkin,” Saint snarled at him.
“Yeah yeah,” Blake answered vaguely and Saint’s posture stiffened.
I stood in the kitchenette with a puddle growing around my feet and flames searing my cheeks, my appetite for breakfast entirely gone.
Blake glanced over his shoulder at me from the couch, eyeing the puddle with a smirk. “Better get a mop, Cinderella. You’re so wet for me it’s ridiculous.”
Saint eyed me with delight, my shame making him blaze with satisfaction.
I headed over to the closet to snatch out a mop and soon had the kitchen floor clean, though my dignity was never going to be intact again.
By the time I was done, it was time for my least favourite part of my morning. My shower. It wasn’t like I was body conscious, but knowing the doors to the Jack and Jill bathroom could open at any second put me on edge. I didn’t want Blake or Kyan walking in on me ‘accidentally’. So far, they hadn’t invaded my privacy, but I never felt any less on edge. Especially considering Kyan hadn’t woken up yet.
I cleared Saint’s plate before heading away and using Blake’s door to get through to the bathroom. I frowned at Kyan’s door and turned the shower on to give him a warning before stripping out of my clothes and tying my hair in a knot. I stepped under the heated flow and sighed as it warmed all of the places the ice had frozen. Then I used my honey blossom and vanilla shower gel to scrub at my skin in record time.
Before I could get out, Kyan’s door flew open and I shrieked in anger.
“Get out of here you asshole!” I shouted, covering my breasts and turning my front to the wall as I glared over my shoulder at him.
He was butt ass fucking naked as he strode to the toilet and took a piss. From the angle we were at I couldn’t see his dick thank God, but I could see his muscular ass alright. And the tattoos that curled up his thighs, joining the artwork on his back. In the centre of his back, a fallen angel knelt with black wings extending over his shoulder blades and the face of a demon which spoke of its sins. He hadn’t tied his hair into its top knot yet but I could see his Night Keeper tattoo peeking between the long strands on the back of his neck too, the tip of the arrow looking viciously sharp.
He started laughing and I scowled as he walked to the sink and washed his hands. At least he’s not a total animal.
Except that thought died in a wave as he strode straight toward me, ripped the door open and stepped inside the shower. Holy fucking shit!
“Kyan!” I screamed in alarm as his naked body butted up against mine and he hummed to himself, grabbing his shampoo and rubbing it into his hair like I wasn’t even there.
I couldn’t even get past him to get out because he was so damn huge. I had both hands wrapped around my chest as he caged me in against the wall and I looked over my shoulder to glare at him in horror.
“Get the fuck out,” I demanded and his eyes dragged down to my ass, making my breathing quicken like mad. One glance down and I could have seen his dick. I refused to give him what he wanted though, despite the fact that I wanted to look so fucking bad that it was almost impossible to stop myself. But I damn well did. I had no dignity left, but I still had my pride.
“This is my shower,” he said with a smirk. “You get out.”
“You’re in my way, you dipshit,” I hissed.
“Oh, am I?” he mused, lifting a hand to wash the suds from his hair. I was practically drooling as I took in all of those muscles and the way he kept brushing against me was sending raging electricity darting everywhere under my skin. I was already turned on from Blake and now this Night Keeper was making things worse. Why couldn’t they be as ugly as their personalities? “I think a little thing like you can squeeze by.”
I swallowed the lump of fury in my throat, narrowing my gaze on him as I saw the dare in his eyes. And dammit if it didn’t spark a wildness in me.
I wasn’t going to back down. And if he wanted a fucking show then he was going to get one.
I mentally amped myself up for what I was about to do, turning to the wall as I took in a slow breath.
Do it.
I dropped my hands, turned around and moved right into his personal space. His eyes widened in surprise as I laid my palms flat on his hot, naked chest and pushed him back a step. He didn’t give in, growling with desire as his eyes dipped down to stare at my breasts.
I pressed myself against him, having to rub my way past him to the door and feeling the hard length of him brushing my skin as I went. Heat burst between my thighs and I stamped my teeth to my lip to fight a moan of desire.
I stepped out onto the bath mat, snatching up a towel and Saint’s robe before hurrying into Kyan’s room to dry myself off. That big-balled piece of shit had gotten me all kinds of hot. Angry hot. Physically hot. Gonna-be-turned-on-for-a-week hot. And I was so pissed at him for it.
When I was dry, I dropped the towel on the floor for him to clean up then pulled on Saint’s robe. It was still hanging open when Kyan walked in, holding a towel to his junk as he rubbed it dry and brushed his teeth with his other hand.
I quickly did up my robe, my throat overly tight as he continued walking toward me, smirking around his toothbrush.
“Get out of my room,” he demanded and I turned my back on him, heading to the door.
“Gladly, asshole,” I called back and his laughter followed me.
I was flustered as hell by the time I reached the stairs leading up to Saint’s room. And it took me way too long to realise Saint wasn’t sitting at the breakfast table on his phone like he had been the past few days at this time.
My pulse elevated as I rounded onto the top of the stairs and found him sitting on the end of his bed with his elbows resting on his knees like he’d been waiting for me. All week he’d left my clothes up here to get changed alone. So why was he here right now? Was everyone in this house determined to see me freaking naked today?!
“Your hair’s wet,” Saint said sternly, rising to his feet. I was only supposed to wash it on Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. And I was fairly sure the reason for that was because Saint was batshit.
“Yeah, well tell Kyan not to fucking walk into the shower while I’m in it already and maybe I’ll be able to keep it out of the flow next time,” I snarled and Saint’s eyes widened.
“That asshole,” he muttered, but not like he was pissed at him, like he was freaking jealous.
I pursed my lips, folding my arms around myself and straightening my spine. “I go along with your bullshit, Saint. But we had a deal. Nothing sexual.”
“You being naked doesn’t coun
t as sexual unless one of us is inside you, Barbie,” Saint said coldly and my lips parted in refusal before he barrelled on. “It’s Kyan’s shower, so if you don’t wanna share then get the fuck out of it before he gets in. You gave up your privacy when you became ours. So we’re gonna see you naked and you’re gonna see us naked too. That’s the way it is.”
The injustice of it made me pout like a child and I was half a second from stamping my foot before he turned and stalked away from me into his closet.
I closed my eyes, counting to ten, trying to retreat into that calm place inside of me, but I just couldn’t manage it this morning. I was so pissed off and turned on and gah.
Saint appeared a moment later with a black maxi skirt and a lacy pink top in one hand and a delicate, dark blue lingerie combo in the other.
“Put these on,” he demanded, placing them on the bed and folding his arms as he waited.
I could tell this was a test. He wanted me to blink, to beg for him to turn around. But I was not in the mood to be fucked with anymore. So I was going to front it out just like I had with Kyan.
I walked over to the clothes then turned to face Saint and undid my robe. I stared him right in the eye and let it fall from my shoulders to pool at my feet. I knew I was flushed and my nipples were hardened from my encounters with Blake and Kyan. Saint could probably tell how turned on I was and suddenly I found a power in that.
The vicious mask he wore dropped for the first time since I’d met him. He swallowed hard and his eyes softened to something dark and hungry that almost drew me in. I grabbed the panties, pulling them on before putting on the bra. Neither did much to cover my nudity and if anything they just enhanced my body even more. Next, I pulled on the skirt which fit snugly over my ass before falling down to my feet and splitting up both sides to the knee. I tugged the pink lacy top on over it and it gently caressed the skin above my navel, leaving my stomach on show.
Saint moved toward me, taking my hand and guiding me to a large mirror on the wall. He placed me in front of him and my heart juddered as he reached up to pull my hair out of its knot. A waterfall of gold tumbled around me and Saint combed his fingers through the damp strands, arranging it over my shoulders. Every touch was firm and controlling, but then he stroked his finger down my side and over the curve of my hip with the most gentle of touches and a breath snagged in my throat.
Kings of Quarantine: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Brutal Boys of Everlake Prep Book 1) Page 38