Page 35

“I need to be inside her,” Vero groans out. “I have used all my patience and my cock hurts.”

“You have never had patience,” I grit out. Fuck, she feels so good.

“Exactly, so you understand this is now life or death.”

Kayla laughs and shifts forward in my lap. As Vero positions himself behind her, she exhales and leans into my body.

“Oh, fuck,” Vero moans, and Kayla goes completely still. Her hands come up to my collarbones, and her nails dig into my shoulders.

“Are you okay?” Vero asks, forehead pressed against the back of her neck, his hands trembling slightly.

“Give me a second,” she breathes.

We do as she asks, then Vero presses his lips to her shoulder. When she rolls her hips forward, we know she’s ready.

Vero sets a rough pace, and I meet his every movement with my own. She takes it with her face buried in my neck and her nails dragging lines down my shoulders. I tighten my grip on her hips until she is making that sound again, and Vero groans behind her.

Kayla is getting close; I can tell by the way she tightens around me and the way her breathing changes. She lifts her head from my neck and opens her eyes, and that’s when she goes completely still.

She is looking over my shoulder at the window, where she holds eye contact with whatever she sees. But Kayla doesn’t stop moving, continuing until she comes apart completely, her body shuddering between us.

Vero follows right behind her, his forehead dropping to her shoulder, and I’m right behind him.

The three of us remain tangled together, breathing hard, until finally Vero lifts his head to look at me and mouth: “I told you so.”

The first paintball hits the side of the tank, echoing like a gunshot.

Kayla jolts upright. “What the fuck?!” she yells.

The second one comes through the open hatch above us, exploding red across the wall six inches from my head.

“CLAY!” Kayla screams, detaching herself from us as quickly as possible given our compromising position, then scrambles sideways.

More shots are fired, hitting all three of us. Vero loses his mind laughing, already pulling his clothes toward him across the floor. “I told you he was a sore loser.”

Another shot hits Vero’s thigh, and his laughter gets louder and more unhinged. He looks genuinely delighted.

“GET. DRESSED.” Clay’s voice comes from above us, flat and unamused. “We have a problem.”

Vero’s laughter cuts off, and we look at each other. Kayla is already pulling her shirt over her head when she hisses through her teeth, then her hand drops to her ribs on her left side. She pulls her shirt back up, and we see a small spot of red that’s not paint.

“It’s fine,” she says.

Vero crouches in front of her. “Let me see.”

She lets him examine her, and he prods around it gently, but she hisses again. The paintball split the skin, not deeply, but enough to bleed. Vero glares up at me, and I scowl toward the hatch where Ares has appeared, right as he drops inside.

He crosses to Kayla and crouches in front of her, moving Vero’s hand aside. He looks at it himself, his jaw tight.

“It needs to be cleaned,” he says.

“I said it’s fine.”

“I said it needs to be cleaned.” He doesn’t raise his voice, simply stands up and patiently holds his hand out to her.

Kayla looks at his hand, then up at his face, and I see something pass between them. She takes his hand, and he pulls her up, steering her toward the hatch without looking back.

Vero appears at my shoulder, still pulling his shirt on. “What?”