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“Snow.”
I smirk and move on. “And yours, Daddy?”
He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t react in any way.
“That’s Hatchet, and I’m Honey,” the one in leather says, his voice as smooth as…well,honey. There’s something about him – so effortlessly laid back andfriendly– that gives me clit palpitations. You know the sort – when the pounding pulse in your clit is going ninety to the dozen like you just ran after the ice cream vanandgot a bonus screwball.
“Honey? Sweet.” I wink, licking my lips thinking about that ice cream van.
“Honeymonster,” he clarifies with a returning smirk of his own.
“Are you gonna sugar my puffs for me?” I tease, and the grungy blond grins back at me and chuffs a laugh. I like him. He could be fun to play with.
“Who’s everyone else then?”
Honey points around the circle.
“Bones.”
Bonesis apparently Scowly McScowl Face, and is too fucking beautiful for his own good, even with furrowed brows and a snarling expression aimed at me.
Brown locks the colour of chestnuts, shaved at the side to show scalp tattoos like Snow, and all black ink snaking out from under his t-shirt in every direction. He’s covered in tattoos and it’s a breathtakingly beautiful sight to behold. But those lips.Oh sweet baby Jesus, those lips would make a nun sin for just one taste. He has cold, snake-like green eyes and adon’t fuck with meexpression that immediately makes me want to fuck with him and press all his buttons.
“Ghost.”
There’s somethinghauntedabout the boy Honey points to – no pun intended. He’s so pretty, with his delicate features and anime vibe. White-blond hair, pale, almost translucent skin, and the lightest blue-grey eyes I’ve ever seen. Honestly, they’re almost colourless, but full of pain and suffering. He’s an enigma. A closed, tightly-locked up book that I want to crack open and read. I wonder what his skin would look like, when his head is thrown back in the throes of passion. Will he be flushed a rosy pink virginal hue, or will his flesh redden like a delectably spanked arse?
I can’t wait to find out.
“Nightshade.”
Coal coloured hair, eyes so dark they almost look ebon, monochrome face tattoos, a deliciously dark expression and no doubt a soul just as pitch black as his three piece suit.
Fuck. My. Actual. Life.
He’s a walking hazard to my poor vajayjay. He’s danger and disorder and alarm bells wrapped up in a life-sized red flag that’s made of the most seductive silk.
I want him.
He’s mine, I just mentally licked him from head to toe and I will cut a bitch, or a bastard, if they try to take him from me.
“And our lovely counsellor’s name is Jen.”
My nose curls. Jen? How ordinary. I never killed a Jen before. It’s so…mundane. And now that her boring suburban name has cost me one of my precious orgasms today, she’ll have to die.
“Guys, you know we don’t use those names here! I’ll have to introduce you properly,” Jen says with a beaming smile. Honestly, she’s making my teeth hurt. Or maybe that’s from how hard I’m gritting them. I have to suppress a growl..
“That is Callum Frost.” She points to Snow, and it suddenly dawns on me that he’s the guy the media dubbed the Snowclone killer. Took them ages to catch him because he didn’t have asignature.
I wonder how he fucked up in the end?
She points to Daddy Hatchet. “That’s Forrest King, Kayla. Emmerson Mead and Beckett Graves.” She points to Honey and Bones before moving on. “And Silas Donnelly and Damien Night.” Ghost and Nightshade. “Everyone, this is Kayla Kingfisher, our newest resident.”
“What about that guy?” I ask, tipping my chin at the rodent-like guy everyone conveniently missed out. CounsellorJenblanches.
“That’s Rat,” Honeymonster answers flatly. There’s something else in his tone, something I can’t place, but if I had to, I’d say it was something akin tofear. “But we don’t talk about him.”
“Like Bruno,” I quip. It falls on blank faces.
