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My name’s Beau, sweetheart. I’m a doctor. You don’t need to be afraid of me.”
Survival tip #12 Laugh lines can be deceptive. Sure, maybe this person is good humored and trustworthy. But maybe they laugh while they dismember corpses. Exercise caution.
How can it be over so quickly? I’ve been running for days. At least days. A sob escapes, quickly followed by more I can’t hold in. Strong arms lift me, and I wrap myself around Beau again without thinking.
“Come with us, sweetheart. We’ll keep you safe,” he says, so softly. “You won’t have to worry about this sort of thing”—his head tilts to indicate the corpses decorating the area—“ever again.”
“In exchange for . . . ?” Lucky awards me a cheeky, dimpled grin. “The best orgasms of your life?”
The tip of Lucky’s tongue wets his bottom lip. He bites down and lets out a pained groan. “A librarian? You’re joking, right?” Something hotter, more intent, joins the twinkle in his eye. “That’s . . . Damn it, Dom. I want her. Gimme.”
“There are five of us at Bristlebrook, darlin’. We’ve had women there before and it . . . Well, it don’t work too well. Not when there’s the chance she’s the last woman we’ll ever see, you understand? Too much jealousy. Whole heap of drama.
“We decided after the last time that if we had a woman under our roof again, she’d belong to all of us. Equally. Or she couldn’t stay.”
“Is the thought of it really so awful for you?” he asks, voice low and demanding. His eyes flick up and there’s a fire lit behind them, the gentleness gone. “Would it be so hard for you to give yourself to me?”
“You won’t regret it, darlin’.” Pulling us both up, he calls to the other two, “She’s coming.” “I knew it!” Lucky grins, a godless glint in his eyes. “Eden could never resist temptation.” Beau snorts at Lucky. “That’s Eve, idiot. Didn’t your mama ever send you to Sunday school?”
“Unlike Doctor Desirable over there, I’ll have you know that I have a little class. Only pure, Catholic, functional piggybacks for me, no matter what salacious siren spell you try to cast.” He looks over his shoulder, and my hanging mouth clicks shut. “I’m a respectable gentleman, you know. I need to be wined and dined.”
You can never experience as much in your lifetime, or see through so many eyes, as you will by reading what others have to say. Books will glue our world back together, if anything can.”
The initial strikes came out of nowhere. Intercontinental ballistic missiles obliterated a dozen key strategic locations across the US, from major cities to military bases to the Pentagon.
International tensions had been growing worse each year, relationships between the major nations disintegrating into masses of sanctions and warnings and weapons manufacturing . . . but no one truly thought anyone would take it this far.
And I was secreted away when, just days after the first attack, the second wave hit. Devastating drones prowled our country—as best as I could tell, they were programmed to target masses of heat signatures. Our remaining major cities and military bases were eviscerated. Telecommunications infrastructure went down. The power went out. Smaller cities began falling like dominos.
I survived, and my daily challenge, insidious in its own way, became boredom. Boredom and loneliness. Books were my one true pleasure. The one thing that kept me sane.
Survival tip #230 Beautiful men make your brain fuzzy. Thinking is important. Abort!
As there has been no land invasion here that we know of, nor any aid delivered from our allies, we can only speculate regarding the state of other nations. Mass devastation, surely. Whether they were entrenched in the Final War, or wiped out as surely as we were, the silence speaks for itself. I don’t expect they’re any better off than we are.”
It’s as though Beau sparked something by the river, then Jasper fanned the flames, and now Jaykob and Lucky and Dom are just sitting around like sexy man kindling.
“Whatever I agreed, you do not have the right to manhandle me like that unless I give you permission!”
“Got a type, don’t you? Just so it’s on the record, hypocritical bitch ain’t mine.”
“If she’s staying, she’ll do her part for all of us. Or she’s out.”
The light catches on Jasper as he looks down on us from the raised bar, making a halo of his dark hair and turning the angles of his elegant face wicked. To my surprise, Lucky stills entirely under the stare—it’s the first time he’s stopped moving since I met him,
There is something so forbidding, so rough with power about him, that I feel the urge to kneel and ask for mercy whenever he directs the full weight of his attention to me.
“My husband is the only man I ever slept with. We met when we were teenagers.” When I was so desperate for a friend. When he was so desperate to be someone’s hero. Back before he lost everything and realized I wasn’t worth the cost.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” The dirty words make my breath catch in shock, but my eyes drop to his lips. “I want . . . ” The words stall in my throat. I’m breathing embarrassingly hard. “Say yes, pet.”
“Yes.”
“I told you I love it when you say my name, darlin’. Such a good girl.”
“Do you have any idea how good your pussy feels, darlin’?” he whispers roughly. “So tight. You’re dripping over my fingers, dirty girl. You’re going to come all over my lap, aren’t you? Jasper and I will take care of you.”
“You’re behaving like a slut,” I admonish myself. Yeah, well, apparently being slutty is really fun, my heavy-lidded reflection purrs. Let’s be slutty again. Right now.
“Oh. Jasper didn’t give you the full tour, huh? He’s usually perfect.” His cheeks color, and he clears his throat, avoiding my eyes. “I mean, perfect at that kind of . . . You know what, never mind. Follow me.”
“Heather?” Finally, a smile touches Lucky’s mouth again. “Nah-uh. That’s a whole other story. And not mine to tell. You’ll need to earn that one.” I pout, humor lightening my mood again, and he chuckles. “Whose story is it then?” I venture. “Dom’s, mostly. Kind of Beau’s.”
“Heavens to Betsy, I have never been so riled up in all my born days.” I stop and gape. “I don’t sound like that. I’ve never sounded like that.”
“Well, howdy, Miss Eden. Ain’t you just plump as a peach. Let’s get you back to the farm now, and I’ll have you barefoot and pregnant before this here night is out.” At the mention of Eden, my teeth grit again. “It’s ‘plump as a dumplin’’ and you’re not even a bit funny.”
“You had no right to drag me out here on some useless exercise because you can’t bear that she makes you tingle in your happy places.”
Dom was my brother. In greens and out. We met in military school and got tight fast. We fumbled through learning how to top with some seriously patient subs together. We got our first girlfriend together. Got dumped by that same girlfriend, also together. We graduated together, did our Ranger training together. Even when I did my surgical training and he started working his way up the ranks, we stayed partners. And as soon as I graduated, we pulled every string we had to make sure we were in the same squad. I always thought it’d be him and me, preferably with some pretty subbie between us,
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Dom was telling me good and clear that I didn’t feature in his new idea of Happy Ever After. That it wasn’t going to be me and him and our girl—it was just him and his girl, and maybe Beau as a little side piece whenever Heather was feeling adventurous. Like I was an extra man-shaped dildo they could pull out when I served a purpose. He loved her more than me, and so fifteen years of friendship and The Plan got nuked with one brutal conversation.
It’s not just because she’s here. She’s more than just convenient; I want to know her better. And you don’t get to make the decision that I don’t, just because you’re scared I’ll choose her over you, the way you chose Heather over me.”
Even if he’s using it to manipulate me, he’s still thinking about her. He pretends to be the aloof, in-control CO, but he’s more considerate than he gives himself credit for. He’s still thinking about what she needs. He’s acting like her dominant.
I miss my friend. I don’t want to abandon The Plan.
Whatever he thinks, we need a third. Someone smart, someone kind—someone who can soothe over the scar tissue that’s forming between us. We need Eden.
every other day, I receive a new book with neat, handwritten annotations in the margin.
Lucky and Jasper are working over the dishes on the countertop. Lucky’s wearing a Kiss the Cock apron that makes my cheeks color primly.
“Grab the plates, Lucky.” As he turns and pushes into the dining room, Lucky rolls his eyes at me. He picks up two plates, muttering, “Yes, oh lord and master. Shall I shine your shoes too, your highness? Perhaps you’d like a neck rub?”
“You look very nice tonight, Lucky. Thank you for cooking.” He blinks at me, seeming taken aback by the compliment. Then a smile blooms across his face. “I didn’t want to show you up, but my natural beauty is hard to hide. Should have known you’d outdo me again. We’ll have to swap grooming rituals later.”
I am not one of them, and they have no intention of letting me try to be. Jasper misled me, and Beau did too. I’m not their equal . . . I’m just their pet. And a silly, stupid girl.
The smirk on Jaykob’s face tells me all I need to know. He flicks the card on the table, and the ace of spades winks at me. “Looks like we’ve got a date, sugar. Time to strip down.”
“Or, if you’re as soaking wet as I reckon you are, you shut up with your good-girl protests and let me fuck you. Not with the lights off, not with a please and thank you and seven hours of foreplay. My way.” His lips brush mine as his fingers catch on the edge of my panties. “Fast, rough, and messy.” Oh, God. Time to turn your eyes away, Jesus.
Survival tip #150 When men start swinging their dicks around—duck!
