Make Me Yours (Top Shelf Romance Book 4)

by Devney Perry

  My head tilts over my shoulder. “Didn’t realize I had to ask?” I don’t have to, but they are The Four Fathers, and we are The Four Brothers. Our time will come when we take their place, and the next will take ours, but he knows damn well that if I wanted someone to be here, they would be here.

  “You don’t.” He brings his cigar to his mouth, biting down on the edge. “But are you doing as you’re to do, son, or are you getting distracted from the task at hand?” His words evaporate into the air, my shoulders straightening.

  “I know who comes first, old man. I learned from the best.”

  “Son.” My father leaned down to face me, flicking his cigar between his fingers. “There’s going to come a time where I will need you to do things that you won’t want to do.”

  I sucked down on my ice cream, tilting my head. My eyes squinted against the harsh afternoon sun. “Like what?” I’d always known how my family operated. When you were born, raised, and bred into a community that ran by their own laws and had their own punishments, you learned that way before the way of the world. I always preferred our way, but then again, I was only ten years old and Mum and Dad had always made it clear that I was trained like a machine. To know the loyalty of the brotherhood before anything and anyone else.

  Dad’s eyes narrowed into slits as he brought the cigar to his mouth. “Like live and fight with the same monsters that haunt you in your nightmares.”

  I stopped my licking, my fingers flexing around the cone. “I don’t have nightmares.”

  He stood tall, his shoulders squaring. “You’re about to.”

  His eyes pierce through mine, pulling me out of my memory. “Good. You have one place for love, and that place is not for little Dove Noctem Hendry.”

  “No one said shit about love,” I quip, one eyebrow cocked. I pat his shoulder in assurance. “We’re still playing the game, only we’ve changed a few of our moves.” My eyes fall around the three of them. Lie.

  Dove

  King is still talking with the three men when Killian finally returns, with his mother behind him.

  “Hello,” she answers, placing her hand out to me. It’s the first time I notice her bright eyes. Blue teal, rimmed by black rings. “I’m Drayar. Killian’s mom.” Her eyes slowly drift to him before coming back to me. Her smile is in half, not authentic. I already know she hates me; I just don’t know why. It’s not like I’m dating her son.

  My hand finds hers, and she squeezes stiffly. “Dove.” Suddenly, my words are tangled in a jumble word scrabble in my head, and I’m back on the yacht, unable to form the right letters to construct a single word. I don’t want to speak, because my mouth is closed shut.

  “Hmm,” Drayar murmurs. “Stick around if you want, child. Though I wouldn’t advise it.” She starts walking away, her back turned to me, when I follow the trim line of her spine and land on her tailbone. I notice the same star tattoo that the boys have is over her lower back. I stand in silence, wanting to ask the question I’ve had at the edge of my brain since meeting them. The night moves along, and Killian takes me under his arm, walking me near the fire. He takes a seat on the ground and looks up at me. “Are you going to sit or stand? Because it might be a long night.”

  My eyes find King who is watching me from the other side. They’re actually all watching me. I instantly sit beside Killian, wanting to hide from the attention I’ve so effortlessly attracted.

  “Why am I here?” I lean into Killian, searching his features for any telltale lies. It’s no use, though. These men are armed with the talent to lie. Being illusionists, telekinetic, and whatever else it is that they do—Killian, I’m almost certain, has some sort of hypnotic powers—but I try to find the lie between his truths.

  “Would you believe me if I said we had been planning to have you here for years?” His voice is dipped low, and I’m drawn to the way his bottom lip’s dimple sinks in.

  “No,” I answer through a whisper. “Because that would mean you all knew me before I was picked up and put in that cell, which goes against everything I know, which in essence, makes me uncomfortable.”

  “We don’t care about your comfort, Little Bird.” Kyrin takes a seat on the other side of me. I instantly shuffle closer to Killian. Kyrin makes me uncomfortable. His eyes are untrustworthy. I can almost judge all four of them by their eyes.

  Kingston: Strong, assertive, broody, intense. Liar.

  Killian: Playful, devious, trickster. Liar.

  Keaton: Confident, skeptical, careful. Liar.

  Kyrin: Manic, Rage, anger, resentment. Liar.

  See, I may not know these boys as well as I want to, but I’m beginning to think that they may know me. And maybe I’m wrong and I’m seeing what they choose for me to see, but I look between the truths and lies, and I’ve noticed that even through all of their faces, the one thing that does not change outfits is their eyes.

  Kyrin stirs something inside of me that shouldn’t be tampered with, which is why I trust him the least out of all of The Brothers, which is also why I find myself moving away from him just as fast as he sat down.

  “I’ve figured as much,” I answer as music starts playing. The rest of the night goes uneventful. People stare, and I watch them back. I notice the atmosphere shift the later it gets. The more the fire burns, the more people drink, the more people start to open up.

  Music is playing like a trance when Drayer begins to dance in front of the fire. I’m in awe, trapped in her performance, as her body moves like fluid waves against angry flames, licking through the dark night. I’m unable to move away from her as her back arches backward, and her hands flail out beside her. King must have sat down at some point because his voice is behind me in an instant.

  “Want to talk?” he whispers, his lips softly touching the nape of my neck. Yes, I want to say, but the stubborn part of me—the bigger part of all my five-foot-four—wants to fight him. My attitude is as hot as my hair. I never got picked on as a child for having red hair. I remember my dad always saying, “The world can’t handle redheads. That’s why God only created a small amount.” I understood. Sometimes, but otherwise, I was a fairly chilled out child.

  Until I wasn’t.

  Right now, I want to be the child who isn’t.

  “Sure,” I answer, standing. I follow him as he leads me away from the crowds of people and up the porch steps of the house. I turn around to have one more look at Killian’s mom when I notice everyone watching me—sans Kill’s mom. Chills break over my spine from the uncertainty of the atmosphere, but I follow Kingston anyway. I always go back to the fact that if he wanted me dead, I would be.

  We continue inside and then out the front door again. Aside from the valet driver, who is standing far away from us, it’s just King and I.

  He drops down onto the step and looks up at me. I try to ignore the way his muscles flex when he leans on one arm, or the way his eyes speak to my soul without any words being spoken. Or the fact he’s scary as shit, but I can’t help but be drawn to the beast.

  Slowly, I take a seat on the same step, folding my arms over my stomach and pulling my knees up. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

  “What happened the other night.” He kicks out his leg. Military boots. Why them? I wonder to myself.

  “You already made it clear where that all stands.” I don’t waver, semi-proud of myself for keeping my composure.

  “And if I told you that I changed my mind?” This time I turn to face him. He truly is magnificent to look at, but just as frightening. There’s an emptiness behind his eyes that I haven’t been able to see into.

  “I would say why?”

  He keeps his eyes on me, pinning me with the same stare he gave me this morning when he said he didn’t sleep with Val.

  His tongue sneaks out and slips over his bottom lip. “Is it not obvious?” The corner of his mouth slants up slightly, before his eyes drag up and down my body.

  “Right, and what are your terms?” I’m not dumb. I k
now that someone like King doesn’t do exclusive. “And what if I’ve changed my mind?”

  He chuckles, shifting and leaning up onto his elbows. He searches my eyes, only closer this time. He’s every bit intimidating, and even more so up close. Now he’s close enough to bite. “I’d say you’re a fucking liar.”

  “Maybe,” I whisper, my eyes on his bottom lip. “But I’m also stubborn.”

  He smirks this time, and on all things holy, it almost knocks the wind right out of me. Someone so sinfully beautiful should never wear the devil’s smile.

  The door slams from behind us, and Killian walks out. “We’re fucking leaving. I’m not watching my mom fuck any of them.”

  King rolls his eyes and stands. “Where are Keaton and Kyrin?”

  Killian glares at King. “Where do you think?”

  “Fucking your mom.” King shakes his head. “Meet you in the car.”

  Killian storms off, and I watch as the valet driver quickly grabs the keys from beneath the stand and scurries off.

  “Killian!” I yell out, jogging to catch up to him. “What do you mean your mom is getting fucked?”

  Killian doesn’t stop. He continues walking until the valet parks the SUV up against the curb. I thank him because Killian clearly isn’t going to, and I jump into the passenger seat, turning to face him. His head is turned out the window, his features marred with anger.

  “Kill?” I question.

  “What, Dove?” he snaps, glaring right at me. “Why do you fucking care so much?”

  “Because I just do. It’s what the fuck I do!” I snap back.

  “Well, you shouldn’t.” His eyes glass over, and suddenly, I don’t feel as though I’m having a conversation with Killian. I’m having a conversation with the shell of him.

  “Why?” I ask, reaching for his leg. “You’ve always been the nicest one to me.”

  He scoffs, and then leans forward, until his lips are brushing against mine. “If you knew half of the shit that we have done, not just to others, but to you, you wouldn’t be so nice. Nor would you be bouncing on King’s dick either.” He sits back, as though he didn’t just raze me with his words.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, tapping his leg. “Killian!”

  He ignores me now, keeping his eyes outside. “Nothing, Little Bird. I’m just playing.”

  I twist back in my seat and sigh, leaning my head against the headrest. The car fills with the scent of marijuana, and I turn slightly to see Killian smoking a joint. I smile weakly at him, before the front door slamming cuts me off.

  Keaton and Kyrin are laughing, throwing their shirts over their head as King is scolding them from behind. I never did find out what Killian meant about them fucking his mom. He can’t be serious.

  They all climb back into the car, Kyrin sliding in next to Killian. “Oh, come on. You know she can’t have King, so she goes for us. You could have mine, but she’s, ya know, old and shit.”

  Killian flips Kyrin off. “Why can’t you keep your dick out of her for three seconds?”

  Keaton slams the door closed. “In my defense, I think she used her juju on me.”

  Kyrin laughs again, and my eyes catch King, who shakes his head and pulls out of the driveway as he drives us back to the tent.

  I almost forgot all about Midnight Mayhem because tonight was so bizarre.

  Dove

  The Texas show goes smoothly, and I dance my set perfectly. I did more ballet movements with my solo acts, but when I finally recruit my new members, I will have that scene be fresh and raunchy—purely for entertainment. Delila agreed to fly me out to the boat next week, which works perfectly because, right now, we’ve just got into New Orleans for our month break. I didn’t ask why here, but I have a feeling that maybe New Orleans is where one of The Brother’s family is. Or maybe they just prefer it here.

  King has been cryptic since that night, and aside from always having a hand or something on me when we’re in public, he’s not been around me much, which has been ideal, because I wanted to be able to think about what he was offering. Which is something I still don’t know.

  “Dove!” King swipes open the curtain of my room, just as I’m reaching for my clothes. I’m standing in my bra and panties and nothing else.

  “Wow, couldn’t you knock?”

  He cuts his glare to me, running his eyes up and down my body. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

  My chest rises and falls. The more time I spend with King, the more I see him open. He has a hard shell, one that, as far as I’m concerned, no one has been able to so much as scratch the surface of, but there are times, small times, where I see him struggle with something internally.

  “Thanks,” I mumble, rolling my eyes. “Why is it that when you’re not yelling at me, you’re scolding me.”

  His hands come to the back of my thighs, and I squeal out in shock as he picks me up from the ground. “I yell a lot,” he grunts out, biting my lip. “But you scream a lot more.” His smirk presses against my mouth.

  “What are we doing, King?” I ask, searching his eyes.

  He groans, rolling his head back, before coming back to me. “Why does there have to be a thing? Why can’t we just go with it?” Maybe because when people ‘just go with it’ that’s how they get hurt…

  I shrug. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t know where we draw the line between yelling at each other and sleeping together.”

  He seems to ponder my words, his fingers flexing around my thighs. The edges of his sharp jaw tense. “Alright,” he answers, hiking me up higher. I squeeze my legs around his waist. “How about this. No strings and no label.”

  I groan, my head tilting back. Gripping onto his hair, my eyes narrow. “So, this thing. You can sleep with other people?”

  He pauses, his eyes slanting. “I don’t fuck girls easily.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I release his hair, and then I wish I didn’t, because now it’s standing messily over his head like a “just fucked” monster. My just fucked monster. Why am I considering this? I need my head checked. This man is dangerous. But he’s also very good in bed. And he hasn’t hurt me. Yet. I sound dumb.

  He throws me onto my bed. “It means that I don’t fuck just anyone. I’m in control of myself. Are you?” he asks, his head tilting to the side.

  “What? Of course I am. And what about Val?” I couldn’t stop the words from spewing out of my mouth.

  He chuckles, his hands coming to my ankles to drag me down the bed until I’m half hanging off. Both his fists sink into either side of my head. He presses himself against me. “Why do you care about Val and me?”

  “There’s a you and Val?” I tilt my head.

  “Fuck no,” he answers. “She’s the least of your worries.”

  “Oh, that’s reassuring, King. Please do go on.”

  His eyes narrow, his head shaking. “You’re insane.”

  I shrug, coming up to my elbows. “Maybe.” I wrap my legs around his waist and push him down on top of me. “But you’re the exact same.”

  His lips crash onto mine, and he’s tearing my clothes off again.

  “Wait!” I push on his chest.

  He growls. Straight up growls like I’ve interrupted his feast. “What?”

  “You came in here for something. What was it?”

  “To tell you that we’re here.” He shrugs, before he’s biting down on my skin again, and I’m moaning his name.

  He stands from the bed, removing his shirt and his jeans, pushing them down to his feet. His cock is heavy in his hand as he pumps it softly. “I need those lips around my cock, Little Bird, and I need them on there now.”

  I shuffle to the edge of the bed and wrap my fingers around his thickness. Peering up at him from beneath my lashes, I roll my tongue over his tip, flicking his piercing softly.

  He groans, his head tipping back as he buries his fingers in my thick mane. I can feel him down my throat as I struggle for air,
desperate intakes after time. I pump him hard as he slams into my mouth. The salt from his pre-cum clings to my taste buds as I lick around him, sucking up every bit that he gives me. His pace picks up, the grip on my hair tightening. My fingers flex around his heavy thighs as he tenses, right before hot cum shoots down the back of my throat and I swallow each load like a thirsty hooker who needs to make rent.

  “I’m obsessed with you,” I whisper up at him, still licking his cock.

  He chuckles, gripping onto my waist and picking me up from the ground. My legs wrap around his hard waist as he slams me against the wall, his mouth sucking on my nipples. One of his arms is wrapped around my waist while his other is holding me by my thigh. His hand reaches behind as his thumb slips inside my pussy, circling it.

  “Always so fucking wet for me, Little Bird. So fucking wet.” I groan as he grinds into me with his thumb, his mouth on my neck, licking me and biting me everywhere. Suddenly, his thumb is gone, and that hand is on the front of my throat. “Ever been fucked in the ass?” His grip tightens around my throat, and I know this is a warning.

  I freeze. “No.”

  He releases. “Good.” Shoving his thumb into my mouth, he growls, “Suck.” I do as I’m told, my tongue curling around his finger, licking off the sweetness from my body. His hand disappears again, and I feel it back between my legs as he hikes me up the wall.

  His eyes search mine, a devious smirk plastered on his mouth. “Gonna have to kiss me, Little Bird, might make this easier.” His thumb dips inside me again, swirling against my walls, before he pulls it out and slips it into my ass. I tense, not sold on the foreign feeling.

  “King,” I warn.

  “Relax, or it’ll hurt.”

  “It’s going to hurt anyway,” I muse, frantically looking around my room. I gesture for my makeup bag that’s beside my bed. “Grab the little red tube that’s in my bag.”

  He glares at me.

  “I’m serious, King. You are very large, and,” my eyes drop down between us. “Very pierced. You will do some serious damage. Get the tube.”