by J. Kearston
He tries to give her a face full of understanding and pity that makes me gag. “Who else would love you like I do? I’ve been here through all of your mistakes. I can forgive you for letting them get in your head and manipulate you, but you’ve got to work with me here so I can help you.” At her scoff, his face hardens. “When you come to your senses, I’ll be here.”
Her voice is robotic as she keeps a tight rein on her emotions. “Then you’ll be waiting a long damn time. Move on, before you die alone.”
With that, she turns, storming out of the apartment. Slipping my phone out of my pocket, I hit end, memorizing Blake’s blanched face as he realizes how epically he fucked up. Before there’s a risk of it getting deleted, I send the message to both officers and my email as an extra backup copy.
“Listen closely, because I’m only going to say this once, Blake Thompson.” Crossing the room, I let my pupils contract to slits and fangs peek out, knowing that not a single soul will ever believe him. “I’m going to kill you. It might be tomorrow, it might not be for a decade, but the one thing I can promise you?” I lean in closer to whisper, “It’s going to be a slow, agonizing death that will have you begging for mercy that will never come.”
Smacking a hand to his chest in parting, I head for the hallway, my eyes returning to normal. “See you around, Blake. Don’t forget to lock your bathroom window; you have a terrible habit of forgetting to close it.”
Grabbing the door handle, I smirk, the scent of fear clouding through the room despite his attempt at an impassive face. “It’d be a real tragedy if anything happened to you, especially right after getting dumped. Sleep tight; don’t forget to check under the bed for monsters.”
The smirk I give him as I close the door has his mask cracking into splinters. “You never know what sort of things roam around right beneath your nose.”
Chapter 19
Risa
“That godsdamned, motherfucking, cocksucker!” Stryker shouts, slapping a palm against the wall, returning to his pacing. “No, cocks are fantastic, he doesn’t deserve those. That, that-”
“Sound it out,” Mason drawls while picking at his nails, stretched out on the floor of our empty living room.
“Okra sucker!” Stryker finally settles on, and a surprised laugh slips out of my mouth that turns semi-hysterical.
I don’t fault him for a minute; it’s the snottiest vegetable and absolutely vile. Still, it makes him sound like he’s spouting playground insults, and after as emotionally exhausting as today’s already been, it’s the final straw that pushes me over the edge.
“I think you broke her,” Bane comments with a small smile, walking into the room and sliding down the wall to sit beside me. Plucking me off of the ground, he pulls me onto his lap while I try to catch my breath, abs hurting from laughing so hard.
“So what next?”
There’s no point rehashing everything and getting upset all over again. Best choice is to keep moving forward, and eventually, we’ll be able to look back on this time of our lives as an inconvenient blip. I’ll at least admit to myself though, that it went far better than I expected. I thought Blake would make me look crazy. Instead, not only did all of them see what an absolute douchebag he is, they got recorded evidence of it.
Bane nuzzles the side of my throat. “Thatcher says we can expect the restraining order within the next few days.”
“And if he breaks it?” Craning my head to the side, I give him better access and an open invitation. “Can’t murder him if he’s in jail.”
A pained groan vibrates against my flesh as he kisses my neck that has me grinding my ass against him. “I knew the moment we found you that you’d be trouble, but I didn’t think you’d try to kill me.” His tongue flicks across my heated skin and my eyes flutter shut, holding my breath as I wait for the brief pinch of pain to come.
“How so?” I breathlessly chuckle.
His teeth gently rake over the side of my neck, working a path down to the junction of my shoulder. “I’ve got a theory that you’ve found a new way to slay a shifter beyond taking our hearts and heads.” At my hum, he continues, “I think you’ve unlocked a level of pleasure so intense that we’ll simply drop dead. We reach the highest point of our lives and there’s nowhere else to go but down from there.”
I snort, opening my eyes and turning to face him. “That was next level corny. It actually put Stryker’s flattery to shame.”
“Hey,” the man in question protests, coming to stretch out on his stomach and rest his chin on his folded arms next to my thigh, blinking up at me. “I thought you liked effusive praise and flattery?”
My broad grin hurts my cheeks. “Not saying I don’t, but I never know how to react to it. ‘Thanks’ or ‘you too,’ seems woefully lame.”
Nipping at my thigh, he waggles his eyebrows at me. “All you need to do is take it. Besides, your reactions are cute. Did you know that we’re drawn to body heat? So every time you blush, you’re practically jerking us off.”
My laugh turns into a moan as Bane strikes in my distraction, his mouth working against my flesh to get my blood flowing. One of his hands tightens on my stomach, holding me against him, and the other cradles the side of my head, threading his fingers through my hair. Breath turning ragged as heat floods my system, only his grip on my hair keeps my squirming in check, shifting my thighs together as need slams into me hard.
“Fuck, I’m pretty sure if you suck hard enough, you could get me off like this,” I pant, clutching his thigh.
Resting his forehead against mine while he asks Bane, “Am I crazy, or does her blood smell different to you guys, too?” He strokes a thumb over my cheek. “You feeling alright, love?”
I manage a needy whimper before closing the distance between us, kissing him. He meets every swipe of my tongue with a roll of his own, but ultimately pulls back. Gently tapping my cheek, Stryker tries to get my attention back on him and not the outline of Bane’s rigid cock pressing against my ass.
When I don’t respond, lost in the moment, he turns his focus onto Bane, forcing him to come up for air. “Hey.” Snapping his fingers in front of his face, it takes a second for Bane to shake it off.
“Shit.” Carefully, Bane passes me over to Stryker. “I don’t know what’s changed in the last week, but her blood’s definitely more potent. I feel like I could sprint a mile and then some; she’s like liquid cocaine.”
Straddling Stryker’s lap, I rock against him, arms looped behind his neck. “Maybe you guys have just conditioned me to know biting leads to orgasms.”
Dipping his head, he swipes his tongue over the puncture marks. When he meets my gaze, his pupils contract to mere slits, the emerald brightening until it’s nearly yellow. “Or maybe someone slipped you something.”
Frowning, Mason comes over, crouching beside us. Looking at Stryker, he furrows his brow before gently tilting my head to the unbitten side. He runs his nose along my skin, ensuring that he doesn’t touch my blood so at least one of us keeps their wits about them.
“I don’t think so. Only place we’ve gone today was the ex-hole’s apartment, and she didn’t drink anything; wasn’t ever alone either. We didn’t even eat out today, so I can’t imagine she was exposed to anything unless it was airborne,” he rationalizes, licking his lips and clearing his throat. “But while it seems more potent, it also smells like-“ he takes a second to mull over the right way to phrase it “-us?” Turning to the others in confusion, he adds, “Am I crazy, or if you drop your guard, does she register more like a shifter than before?”
Bane strokes a hand over my spine soothingly. “You’re right. There’s still something off, but she’s less notably other. Back when we were shopping, she was clearly not human, but not like us either.”
Stryker grips my hips, pulling me closer. “It took her seven times longer than most people to wake up, and she’s got accelerated healing instead of shifter level healing. So it makes sense that it would take longer for her to cat
ch up on this front as well. Give it another week and she’ll likely appear as a full-blown shifter.” He grins, kissing me. “Which makes it ten times easier when we’re finished here. We can hide you in plain sight.”
Toying with the ends of his hair, I point out, “Not to burst your bubble, but if my blood is already growing more potent, then wouldn’t that mean it’ll keep increasing? So while I may come off as one of you, it might get to the point that it doesn’t take cutting myself for someone to be drawn to me, like a super pheromone perfume, sort of thing.”
Stryker’s eyes close as I continue to run my fingers through his hair and stroke my fingers over the back of his neck. “Mmm, then I guess we’re just going to have to keep you our little secret, aren’t we?”
Bane rises up, bouncing on the balls of his feet like he slammed back a pot of coffee. “Or it’s as simple as the more regularly we feed from her, the more her body adapts to the routine. The same way people plateau with weight loss when they’re used to a certain routine and they’re forced to shake it up, or you build up a higher alcohol tolerance when you’re a daily drinker.”
Mason gets to his feet, stretching. “Makes sense to me. Like her body is producing not only enough blood to replenish what we’re taking from her, but catching on it needs to make more for the three of us so it’s intensifying the potency to meet our needs so we don’t need to take as much from her.”
Stryker hums in pleasure from the featherlight touches, looking like he might fall asleep sitting up. “Bond feels stronger too. Or I’m getting better at sensing her moods, which is entirely possible. It’s hard to tell the difference between sire bond, and being madly in love and obsessed with her every waking moment.”
Smiling, I bend down to kiss him. “Maybe that’s an incorruptible perk; get you addicted to my blood and make you stronger, while at the same time inspiring the need to protect me since I’m weaker. A symbiotic relationship where I sit back and act as your battery pack while you do all of the heavy lifting to keep me alive.”
What I originally meant as a joke has his eyes flying open, the others pausing. “That honestly makes a hell of a lot of sense, if you think about it. I’d bet hundreds of years ago shifters were drawn to incorruptibles’ blood and it started all of the vampire legends, so it isn’t much of a stretch to assume that over the years, the addiction and protective instincts developed as an evolutionary survival trait. Hell, look at how often that sort of thing happens in nature.”
Bane helps me up like he knew my leg was starting to fall asleep, grinning. “You’re a bona fide snake charmer.”
Laughing, I wiggle my toes, fighting the painful tingling sensation in my foot. “I wonder if there’s a limit to the amount of people before it’s not effective anymore.”
Three sets of eyes narrow on me, my stomach somersaulting in the face of their instant jealousy. I stow that fun tidbit away for later to see how much I can rile them up before they snap.
Bane’s voice is low, promising murder as he says, “Good thing it doesn’t matter, so no need to waste time worrying about it.”
Snickering, I walk past him, trailing a hand over his chest and shoulder as I go. “I’m going to get started on dinner. Want to browse some more listings so afterward we can start whittling down the list of possibilities of where we’re going to move?”
“Absolutely.” Pulling out his phone, he heads down the hall to lounge on one of the beds where it’s more comfortable.
Mason declares he’s going to take a bath since there isn’t much else to do, which leaves Stryker following me into the kitchen to keep me company. After a few minutes where he realizes he’s more in the way than actually helping, he takes up a seat at the card table in a folding chair we have for our temporary set up so we’re not stuck on the floor all day.
Resting his chin on his folded arms, he watches me grab the cutting board as the oven preheats. We stay there in amicable silence for a few minutes before he quietly asks, “You know everything he was saying today was utter bullshit, right?”
My hand stills for only a moment before I go back to slicing the carrots, swiping them into the roasting pan. “I know.”
“And you know as much as we say that you’re ours,” he carefully words, sounding incredibly nervous all of a sudden, “that we don’t mean it in the same way that he did?”
Looking over my shoulder, I give him a sad, understanding smile. “Absolutely. And I can promise you, when you say it? It makes me feel wanted; safe. I know you’d burn the world to the ground trying to protect me, because I’m yours as much as you three are mine. Family, not a possession. Very different concepts.”
The look of relief that crosses his face hurts my heart, but in a good way. He genuinely cares about making sure that I’m happy, always trying so hard to hype me up, the epitome of support.
I turn back to cut up the potatoes next. “When you stumbled across the accident,” I hesitantly bring up, “I was trapped in the trunk, right?” At his acknowledgment, I carefully riddle it out, the three of them never delving into the details. “But you turned me; not Bane or Mason. Which means you were the first to get to me before they could find a way to get me out of the trunk.”
His voice is cautiously confused as he answers, “Yeah?”
Focusing on chopping, I rush out, “Why? Why after what you went though would you climb in there instead of letting one of them do it? You didn’t even know me, and it’s not like my blood set you off back then.”
He doesn’t even hesitate, like the answer is so obvious there’s no need for him to analyze it deeper than surface level. “Because you needed me. I might not have been able to save myself, but I could still save you. And even if I couldn’t, I didn’t want you to die alone in the dark, thinking that nobody ever came for you.”
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
Taking slow breaths until the burning in my eyes subsides, I slide the potatoes into the pan and move on to trimming the roast to add on top. “You know, it’s really not fair that you’re so goddamn dreamy and amazing. How am I supposed to compete with that?” Finishing up, I wash my hands and add seasonings before tossing the whole thing in the oven, setting a timer. “With a silver tongue like yours, Mason and Bane are going to end up leaving me for you.”
He simply rests his cheek on his folded arms, looking at me with a tender smile. “Not a chance. If only you could see the way they look at you when you’re lost in the moment; dancing, busy around the house. Hell, when you’re sleeping and your guard is completely down, knowing you trust us enough to be that vulnerable around us?” He sits up, shaking his head with a sigh. “Bane was right; you’re the real snake charmer. We’re fucking addicted to you Risa, and not just your blood. You are intoxicating to be around.”
Washing my hands, I move on to the couple of dishes sitting in the sink. “See? How am I supposed to compete with that? All that pops into my head is ‘that’s so sweet, want to bone?’ Not nearly as romantic.”
Laughing, he joins me, grabbing a rag to dry. “The hell it’s not. Please, feel free to stop keeping that stuff to yourself, I love it.”
“Son of a bitch,” I hiss, dropping the knife in the sink and popping my finger in my mouth that I sliced open.
Frowning, Stryker grabs my wrist to inspect how bad it is, only for his nostrils to flare. Holding my gaze, he brings my hand to his face, flicking his tongue over the wound before sliding it into his mouth. Gently sucking on the digit, the pupils that had only just started returning to normal become slits once more, his other half rising to the surface and wrestling for control.
Each tug on my finger sends a pulse of need straight to my clit, and when he stops, I nearly beg him not to. I don’t know if it’s the bond, constantly surrounded by three sweet men that I adore, or the act of feeding itself, but I’m almost always one stroke away from jumping their bones.
Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he withdraws a band aid, and I give him a strange look. “You just so
happened to have one handy?”
Unwrapping it, he carefully bands it around my finger, concentrating like he’s never done it before, and it dawns on me that he likely never has, never had the need before me. “Since you don’t heal as quickly as us, I’ve been trying to stay better prepared since the incident in the woods.”
Rising on my toes, I kiss him, because there simply aren’t words that convey how much I fucking love this man. Rather than make a bumbling idiot of myself attempting it, I try to pour everything into the kiss. He claimed that the bond was strengthening to the point that he could get a read on my emotions, so I pray that he’s right and he can feel how much I appreciate him without having to utter a single word.
One hand on the back of my neck, the other settles on my hip as he backs me up against the counter. Stroking him once over his jeans, I flick open the button, his muscles jumping as my knuckles bush against bare skin. With a low growl, he releases my hip to grip the hem of my shirt, but I cover his hand with mine, stopping him. Confused, he backs up to look at my face, eyes darkening as I switch positions with him and drop to my knees.
With a smirk, I lift my bandaged finger. “Don’t mind me, just returning the favor.”
“You don’t have t-“ He sucks in a sharp breath as I wrap my hand around the base of his now freed cock. Without another word of protest, he shoves his jeans down his hips, carefully stepping out of them as I start pumping his length. He whips off his shirt a moment later, fisting it in his hand as he braces himself against the counter behind him.
Slowly, I flick my tongue over the tip, rolling it over the head and enjoying how stock still Stryker becomes. Licking my palm, I grip just past my lips as I start taking him into my mouth, stroking him while swallowing him down. When I take him as far as I’m able, I retreat only to do it again and again, faster each time.