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His cheeky smile returns. “Thought we’d have a little going away party.”
I quickly rip off the bow and open the box, gawking at the contents. Nestled in black tissue are black panties and a bra. But this isn’t just any lingerie. “The 9 Alarm Defender Briefs and sports bra?”
Cyrus exhales the smoke. “I like what I like, but I like your lady parts a little more, and I want to make sure they’re protected.”
I belt out a laugh before placing the box beside me.
“Whoa, are you turning your nose up at my thoughtful gift?” Cyrus demands, his bottom lip jutting with a pout. He yanks up the hem of his shirt, exposing his muscular chest, peppered with massive scarification and blackout tattoos like those covering his face. On the other side, my name is carved into the smooth, sun-kissed skin in jarring, jagged letters. “I think it’s pretty shitty of you to allow me to partake in your crazy kink when you keep denying mine!”
I’m not sure when my fascination with knives started, but somewhere along the way, it consumed me. So much so that I began training with anything made of steel with a sharp pointed tip: swords, carving knives, boning knives, boot knives, skinning knives, universal knives, and gutting knives. My love for them also bled into a kind of depravity, increasing my appetite for sexual activities that included risk play. I became consumed with marking my lovers and tethering them to me in blood.
I glance at Zeke for backup, but he simply smiles, pulling up his shirt to display my name on his chest. “The only one who can’t demand anything of you is Lev.”
I huff. “It’s not fair when it’s two against one.”
Zeke nuzzles his nose against my pulse point before growling in my ear, “Don’t pretend you don’t like it when we tag team you.”
I’m suddenly hot, my skin burning. I have no idea why that happens. I wish I had a smart answer for lewd comments or flirting, but I’ve never been that girl. Which, in all honesty, makes no sense since I’m never at a loss for words. Yet every time my best friend takes our friendship to a sexual level, I stammer and fall apart.
“What’s the matter, Princess? Cat got your tongue?” Zeke teases, nipping my ear and grazing his teeth along my delicate lobe. “I think you’d prefer it if I had your tongue instead.”
I jump off the back steps, needing to put some distance between me and the heady scent of Ezekiel's cologne.
“Ah, come on, Hellcat.” Cyrus smirks. “We’ve got all this space. I’d think you’d want to make use of it.”
I frown at him, irritated by his mocking laughter.
Zeke gets up from the steps and stalks toward me. His body is lean and hard in all the right places. He brings the smoke to his lips, taking another drag, and I think about all the dirty things he’s done to me with many cigarettes over the years.
I step backward. “What are you doing, Zeke?”
A twisted smile forms on Zeke’s lips as he prowls toward me. “I was thinking about how hungry I am.”
I point toward the back door. “The kitchen is that way.”
Zeke laughs. “Come on now, Princess. You and I both know that’s not the type of snack I’m craving.”
I’m about to reply with a smart comment when Cyrus jumps off the porch and jogs over to Zeke. They both glare at me with predatory eyes as clouds of smoke shroud their faces. Zeke and I have played this game many times. One of us runs, and the other chases—our adult version of a child’s game. But for the first time, Cyrus seems to want to play.
I arch my eyebrow and tilt my head at them, standing there in all their masculine glory. “I’m not sure I like my odds. Two against one isn’t very sporting.”
“Don’t worry, Az. We both know Cyrus can’t keep up. Think of him as a pity fuck.”
Cyrus growls as he grabs Zeke’s hips and tugs him until his back is flush with his chest. “That’s not what you were saying when my cock was deep in your tight little ass. If I remember correctly, you were crying about how it was so fucking big. My favorite was when you screamed, ‘Keep giving it to me, Daddy.’” Cyrus gyrates his hips, mimicking Zeke. “‘Pound my little fuck hole. Make me feel so good, Daddy. Oh, Cyrus, that’s it, I’m gonna come. Just like that.’”
Zeke wraps his arm around Cyrus’s neck and flips him over, dropping him on the ground and holding him down with a booted foot. “Listen up, Cyrus. I’ve never called your punk ass Daddy, and I never will.”
Cyrus laughs as his hand glides provocatively along Zeke’s black army boot. “These are kind of hot. Maybe the next time I fuck your ass, I’ll tie you up spread eagle, completely naked except for these. Legs in the air as you get fucked like the little bitch you are.”
“When I shove my cock up your ass dry, you’ll know who’s the little bitch,” Zeke spits.
I laugh at their insane banter. It’s their foreplay. My guys love each other furiously, but they also fuck each other like mortal enemies. “Well, looks like you boys are busy, so I’ll be going.”
Both men turn their gazes on me as Zeke offers a hand to Cyrus and helps him up.
Cyrus lunges for me but misses as I sidestep. “You better run, Hellcat, because I’m hard as fuck and itching to punish your holes.”
I smirk at my boys and dash into the forest. This isn’t the first time I’ve run and been fucked in the forest. These games have always helped release the tension coiling in my veins. Running for pleasure and fun, not out of fear or vengeance. A welcome change of pace.
