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Survival tip #20 You have to be the worst version of yourself to survive. Kill the weak. Strike from the shadows. Run from a fight. Leave your friends behind.
“You should have shot her,” Jaykob mutters to Eden. My lips quirk at that. “You tried to shoot her?” Jaykob exchanges a rare look with me. “Safety was on.” “Ah. Shame.” Eden sighs. “I probably shouldn’t have.” “I wouldn’t fret.”
“Besides, he’s said before I could borrow his clothes.” “To wear!” I shake my head, lips twitching. “You know you’re messed up, right?” “And now you’re kink shaming me. Very uncool, Beau.” I roll my eyes. “Well, if you’re done making Jesus cry, I have a present for you. Two, actually.”
“No! This perverted klepto needs to take a massive, toilet-cracking shi—” “Gross. Gross, Lucky. How you convinced two people to want to sleep with you, I don’t have the slightest clue.”
Survival tip #135 Appreciate the little things. Company. Safety. Beautiful, panty-soaking men.
The large man stops beside us and sighs. “The pretty ones are always taken.” Jasper gives him a reproving frown. “They’re Sinners, Bentley.” “That is on the con list, for sure.” He looks down at Jasper and winks. “Is that you making me a better offer?”
Jaykob slings an arm over my shoulder with a smirk. “Now, that ain’t exactly—” “Be quiet, Jaykob,” Jasper hisses, pressing one finger to his temple. Then he removes it, and gives my face a tense, searching look. He’s . . . not interested in men, though. Is he? Lucky said he wasn’t.
Bentley whistles low. “And that’s another one for the pro list.” He looks away from the lantern he was examining and grins at Mateo. “If you ever get out of this mess, you look me up, dollface.” Jesus. Time and place. Mateo doesn’t even look in Bentley’s direction.
“Hmm? I seem to remember your hands all over my cock. Beau showed you just how I liked it.” The corner of his mouth lifts humorlessly. “He’s a good friend like that.”
With a frustrated screech, she squirms in my grip, and it rubs her body all over mine. It’s soft and giving everywhere. She’s the softest thing I ever felt. Maybe the softest thing I ever want to feel.
“You want to hide away from every piece of shit out there instead of fighting, then I’ll build you a damn fortress.” I grab her thigh and hitch it over my hip so I can line myself up with her pretty cunt properly. I fuck her against the tree through our clothes, and she gasps. “You need a monster to protect you from the monsters, then I’ll do the dirty work. My hands are already filthy with it.”
“But if you want to learn how to rip out their throats yourself, sugar, then I’ll show you how to fucking bite.”
I’m dining on princess tonight.
Then she wrenches hard out of my grip and pushes forward, sucking my fingers even deeper down her throat, until her saliva coats my palm and drips down my wrist and my dick is demanding to replace them. Her eyes water as she takes me, but as I curse, they fill with satisfaction. Then she fucking bites me. With a growl, I yank my throbbing fingers out of her mouth, and she gasps for air, then slaps me across the cheek. My head whips to the side, and I laugh.
“You want to inspect the merchandise before you claim it?” Eden steps into me, then scratches me viciously down my chest until I hiss. “Don’t be an ass, Jayk. You’re already mine.”
She’s not a princess right now, or a librarian. She’s letting her monster out. Mine
And it’s too close, like this, with her eyes all soft and serious. But I can’t look away. “Mine,” she whispers fiercely.
Her hand trails to my cheek, where she slapped me. “Did I hurt you?” “One of these days, I’m going to show you how to hit me properly.”
I’m still blinking, dazed, when he gets to his feet, and his arousal is thick and insistent against his zipper beside my head. Proud—and blatantly obvious. Jayk doesn’t seem to care, though Dom’s and Jasper’s eyes follow him as he very slowly pulls on his shirt, then his kit. Then their gazes switch back to me.
Jayk checks his pistol at his hip, then shrugs. “I need to piss a storm. Watch her for me.” Jasper pauses his cup before it reaches his lips, then throws an arch look my way as Jayk strolls off. “He has a . . . surprising charm,” I say awkwardly. Jasper takes a sip from his tea. “His appeal is boundless, I’m sure.”
“I like him,” Ava says, laughing. “He’s a terrible fucking sport about everything.” My lips twitch reluctantly. After he saved Kasey, it’s clear the women have taken to him. It’s equally clear that he has no clue what to do with that. They tease the poor man incessantly. “Hey, Jayk, did you see that bird earlier?” “Jayk, my man, you need to borrow some sugar?” “Jayky, up for cribbage later?” Watching him scowl suspiciously at every gently teasing wave and wink has become the new highlight of my day.
“He’s in love with you.” The words feel true as soon as I say them. “And you’re in love with him.” Jasper’s mouth is still open, and his chest falls fast. His dark eyes glitter. “It doesn’t matter.” Lucky. Sweet, funny, gorgeous Lucky . . . is in love with someone else. Tears burn the back of my eyes. “Of course it matters.” Jasper is perfect for Lucky. He needs Lucky’s joy and light, and Lucky craves his darkness. Jasper’s need to fulfill his sadism with someone who matched him was exactly why things failed with his wife, and here in front of him, always in front of him, is his perfect fit.
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Slowly, he says, “You could join us. If you wanted.” I almost skip another step. “Join your marathon?” Dom lifts one shoulder, and that droll smile begins to curl his lips again. “I’ll remove the ‘No girls allowed’ sign just for you.”
Why is Lucky being adorable now? He’s in love with Jasper. I don’t want my heart to fill like this. Not when it’s only going to burst as soon as Jasper finally admits to his feelings.
“No!” Lucky coughs, then glares indignantly as he points at Beau. “You are not playing that card. Injured beats Southern.” Injured. I scan Lucky again, worry nipping at me. He shouldn’t have run over here if he’s hurt. He sags against Beau, pressing a hand to his chest. “Can you check my stitches, doc?” He groans pitifully. “I think you tore them open.” Beau shoves Lucky off him. “You don’t have any stitches, you filthy liar; don’t you even try it. Don’t listen to him, Eden.” Lucky flips him off, a grin breaking through his pouty expression, and relief crowds me again.
“Hey there, Doctor Delicious, trying to kick me out already?” “Don’t call him that,” I mutter at the same time Beau snaps, “Don’t call me that.”
“Hey!” Lucky pipes up indignantly. “You can’t just take her! You know I’m just going to break in, right? Get ready to snuggle.” I close my eyes briefly at his words, my amusement fading. Jasper. He’s in love with Jasper. And as soon as he has him, there’ll be no need for snuggles with me.
The sneer drops, and he looks away. Something soft and raw touches his features, and when he speaks again, it’s full of quiet hurt. “Just leave me alone, Eden. I don’t want to see you anymore.”
In that moment, I love him. I love him for his first instinct not being relief, or to take the opportunity to push Jayk away. He’s going to help me bring him back in. To us.
I can’t help the images, the guilty fantasies that keep creeping up on me. Him laying her low, making her crawl across his library floor in nothing but her glasses. Her rubbing her cheek against his thigh as he necklaces her throat with his hand. Her cheeks stained red and her eyes sparkling with tears as he ties her legs apart and paddles her pussy. Him making me lick that paddle clean. Him dragging me by the hair until I’m tonguing her ass, her pussy, everywhere she’s wet and soaking for us.
“He loves you, Lucky,” she says, so quietly even I can hardly hear it. “He loves you so much. I think he’s finally ready to admit it. You don’t have to be lonely for him anymore. You can be happy together—and I really . . .” Her voice catches. “I really want you to be happy, Lucky.”
“I think I loved you the moment you first walked into my office and gave me the most thorough eye fuck of my life. I’ve loved you during every session, for every smile, and with every tear you spilled at my feet. I’m done hurting you, dear boy, in every way bar the ones that bring you joy.”
“You love me?” I whisper. Love. He can’t mean this. He’ll take it away again. He’s tired, he’ll rethink it, like he rethinks our scenes every time they end. “Obsessively.” He tilts my chin up further, and his grip tightens as if he can press the words into my skin. “Incomprehensibly.”
“I love you,” I tell him between kisses. “I love you so much. I always have.” He sighs on a groan and takes my mouth deeply again.
“Not today.” “Why not?” That sounds pouty. It should probably embarrass me, but it doesn’t. I feel pouty.
“Because I’m not here for a quick fuck, Lucien. I have seven years of courting to make up for.” He kisses my cheek. “Seven years of romance.” He nips my earlobe. “Seven years of apologies.”
Jasper grips my wrist. Hard. “Your cock belongs only to me, brat. You touch yourself without permission again and there will be consequences.”
I ache for him—I always ache for him. But I ache for her now too, and I can’t separate them.
“I can’t do it, Jasper. I love her,” I say. “I know you’re fond of her, but—” I turn, my hand in my hair. “No, I’m not fond of her. I love her. It might have taken you seven years to work that out, but I got there faster.”
“Please.” Jasper rubs his temple with one long finger. “Do not compare my methods to Jaykob’s. You might as well compare a butcher’s yard to an operating table.”
lol what an arrogant prick 🤣
“I want to hurt her, Lucien. I want to hurt her so badly I can taste it.” I shiver, intrigued and frightened by that look. “She’s a sweet thing. Still so innocent.” His tongue slides over his lower lip, like he is tasting it. Like his want for her is on his mouth. In his skin. He’s turned on, I realize. Painfully so. He usually takes care to make sure I don’t see it, but he’s not even trying now. He’s making a point. Those dark eyes envelop me again. “If you put her in my hands, dear boy, I will break her . . . and I will enjoy every moment of it.” I believe him.
“Fine. Fine. But I have to try for myself. I’ll romance her or talk to her. I’ll do whatever I need to, but I’m going to get through to her.” Jasper walks over to me, then adjusts the flower in my hair. “Then, my love, it seems we have similar quests.” And then he kisses me.
“I can’t get this”—sniff, sob—“under control”—sob, wail, cry—“while you’re being nice.” His pretty eyes roll up in exasperation. “You want me to be mean to you?” I wipe uselessly at my traitorous eyes again. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.” Beau scrubs a long-suffering hand over his too-tempting face, then he scowls. “Your hair is a mess and your breath smells like something died in your throat. Happy now?” I stare at him. “Why would you say that?” I keen, as a raw, hacking sob shakes my whole body. Beau straightens off the door, looking nothing short of panicked. “No—no, no, no. I was
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“Interesting. I wouldn’t expect a patient who was so recently active to be such a desperate, squirming, needy little slut.” Oh, my . . . God. My whole body shudders. I feel a coil of bright burning tension take up deep and low in my abdomen, and I pant out another whimper. That word on that kindly, patient face is wrong. I want him to say it again.
“I’ve been waiting my whole life to fall in love with you.” My eyes sting again, and I blink hard. “Ohhh,” I growl in frustration. “Don’t. I—” “Don’t be nice to you?” He rolls his eyes, though he’s still smiling. “You need to stop fretting, darlin’. I’m not afraid of your tears.”
Funny, how similar his words are to Jayk’s—I’m not scared of your fight
“Woman’s power lies in man’s passion, and she knows how to use it, if man doesn’t understand himself. He has only one choice: to be the tyrant over or the slave of woman—to which you write, ‘Let me be both. Your tyrant and your slave. In allowing me to own you, you own me.’” Heather whistles low. “Spicy. Pretty scandalous stuff.”
“A slap in the face is more effective than ten lectures. It makes you understand very quickly—and you say, ‘You must tell me if Jaykob agrees.’ Huh. She slapped the caveman. Nice.”
“I want to go on whipping without pity until you beg for mercy, until you lose your senses. You just say, ‘Beg me.’ Honestly? A little threatening.”
