Page 60 of The Final Cut

Ever’s eyes stay bland. “You asked.”

“I asked for none of that.” I don’t even know what that is, exactly. This is the weirdest conversation I think I’ve ever had.

And then Nash says, “You should make her warm your cock.”

Silence. The refrigerator hums again.

I look at Nash Blackwood, lord of control, king of grim decisions, man who once made a union negotiator cry without raising his voice.

“I should do what now?”

Ever appears to consider it. The bastard even tilts his head. “That’s a strong idea. When she comes in, say, Yank, come sit on my⁠—”

“What the hell has gotten into the two of you?”

Nash does not blink. “Or give her a spanking. Or maybe do both. Yes, now that I think of it, give her a spanking and then have her warm your cock.”

I point at him. “I know for a fact you are jealous I’m the pretty one.”

“That has never been a fact.”

“You cannot just tell me to win a fight with a cockwarming, Nash.”

“I didn’t tell you to do it. I suggested.”

“That’s worse.”

Ever says, “I think you’re afraid she’ll call your bluff.”

“One, I would not be bluffing, and two, she would not.”

“She would.”

I straighten. “Reva Hart cannot out-bluff me.”

Nash’s eyes sharpen, which should have warned me.

Just then the back door opens.

Rain air rolls into the room, damp and cool. Reva steps inside first, soaked from the knees down, hair wet along the ends, cheeks flushed with something I would love to blame on the weather. Deacon follows behind her, shirt plastered to his chest, expression carved from stone except for the corner of his mouth, which looks dangerously close to amusement.

I don’t have the time or the bandwidth to process that. My head is still spinning over cockwarming, of all things.

Reva stops in the kitchen, looking from Nash to Ever to me.

“Hey, guys.”

The silence is round and suspect.

Her eyes narrow. “What’s going on?”

I clear my throat. “Nothing.”

Nash says, “Shiloh thought you might like to try warming his cock since you were such a brat this morning.”

I close my eyes. “I did not⁠—”

“Oh, he did, did he?”