“Oh, fuck no,” Felix snapped. “Do you really think you’re going in there without me? Without us?”
Avi gave Felix a look that was somehow both suggestive and belittling as he leaned in close. “Don’t worry, kitten. We’ve got this. I wouldn’t want you to mess up your makeup.”
Felix looked like he was going to literally burst into flames. “I could surgically remove your testicles without so much as smudging my eyeliner, you cretin.”
If he was looking to make Avi mad, he clearly didn’t know him. “God, that’s hot. Just remember, kitten, in the office you have to call me Mr. Cretin. I wouldn’t want anybody to think I’m playing favorites.”
Felix’s face screwed up into a mutinous look. “How about I call you—”
“Hi. Hello. It’s me again,” Noah interrupted. “Once again bringing everybody back to the task at hand.” When he had everybody’s attention, he continued. “We will all meet at Mulvaney headquarters at nine a.m. Jericho can decide who should be on his team for this mission. I think six on each side should be sufficient. Okay?”
There was some grumbling but, mostly, they nodded.
“Great,” Noah said. “Atticus, send all pertinent details to Calliope. We need to see if we can find any available blueprints so we know what we’re walking into. I’ll send her the pictures so she can create the high resolution images. Any more questions? Concerns? Apologies? No? Then we should get out of here so we can drop off the corpse and get the van back where it belongs before morning.”
Just like that, the small crowd dispersed. Nico and Levi went back to playing video games, and Felix shot one more glare in Avi’s direction before heading up the stairs to check on Arsen.
“Do you want to sleep here or head to my place?” Atticus asked when it was just the two of them.
Jericho glanced at him, eyes dull, expression distracted. “Whatever you want to do, Freckles.”
Atticus guided him towards the back where both their cars were parked, handing Jericho the keys to the Bronco. Once they were inside and had the ignition turned over, Atticus slid across the bench seat, one hand sliding up Jericho’s thigh as his mouth found his jaw.
Jericho let his head fall, granting Atticus unfettered access. He took it but that wasn’t the only access he was looking for. He fumbled as he attempted to open Jericho’s jeans one-handed. He quickly got the message, batting Atticus’s hands out of the way to shove his jeans and underwear down his thighs. “Fuck, Freckles. You always know just what to do.”
Atticus licked his palm, closing his hand around Jericho’s cock, feeling it harden in his hand with each firm stroke. Jericho turned his head to capture his mouth in a kiss that didn’t end. Atticus swallowed every groan, every breathy exhalation as he worked Jericho with increasing speed until he was just fucking into Atticus’s fist, hand knotted in his hair to make sure Atticus couldn’t pull away. As if he would.
When Jericho finally ripped his mouth away, it was only to say, “I’m gonna come.”
Atticus made an approving sound against his throat as Jericho came, his hot seed coating his fingers.
After a minute, Jericho reached for Atticus’s zipper. He was much smoother with the process than Atticus had been, but as soon as his cock was freed, Atticus smeared his fingers through the mess on Jericho’s belly, using it to ease the slide of skin on skin as he stroked himself.
Jericho literally snarled against his ear. “Fuck, Freckles. That’s so hot. You’re so fucking hot. You like the feel of my cum on your skin? I do. I fucking love it. Love knowing I’ve marked you, inside and out. That you’re just mine. Fuck, I want to watch you come. Show me.”
A full-body shudder ripped through him as he came, his hand working himself until he physically couldn’t take anymore. Atticus let his head fall to Jericho’s shoulder. “I guess it’s a good thing there are no cameras back here.”
“If I’d have known this was going to happen, I would have installed some.”
Atticus chuckled. “Let’s go home. I’ll make us some dinner.”
Jericho gave a weak laugh. “Give me a second, Freckles. I need the blood to return to my brain before I try to drive again.”
Atticus righted his clothing. “Fine, but hurry up. I’m hungry.”
Jericho chose which boys to bring using very specific criteria. Skill set, time, health, and well, availability. Luckily, Felix made the cut, so Jericho was spared the theatrics that took place whenever his brother didn’t get his way. He also chose Lake, Levi, and Seven. Nico and Cree had to work, and Arsen was still recovering.
Walking them through Thomas Mulvaney’s mansion was like trying to herd a bunch of kids through Disney. There was just too much to distract them. They kept trying to wander off. Atticus seemed to find it amusing, a smirk on his face as he led them to the war room.
The Mulvaneys were already waiting. August and his husband, Lucas. Adam and Noah. The twins. Initially, Jericho couldn’t tell one from the other. Now, he could tell the difference because Avi was singularly focused on Felix, winking as soon as he walked in. To his credit, Felix rolled his eyes and ignored him. But it was still disconcerting.
Jericho wasn’t sure he wanted to know exactly how Felix would fare in this ‘internship.’ He didn’t hover over his brother because he had seen him take on people three times his size without breaking a sweat. But this was different. There was something unnerving about the way Felix made a pointed decision to ignore Avi. That wasn’t Felix’s style.
Jericho shook the thought away. That was a crisis for another day. This was about revenge. Revenge for Mercy. Revenge for Benny. Revenge for anybody who had ever had the misfortune of running into that bitch who called herself Sister Agnes. The bitch that was still alive.
They’d waited for her all night, but she never came back. Jericho didn’t know if she was in the wind or just laying low, but he wouldn’t stop until she was sharing a space in hell with Dr. Reed and all his staff members.
Atticus gestured for them all to sit, which they did, but it was clear they were sizing each other up from both sides of the table. Thomas burst through the door with not a single hair out of place, looking like he’d just injected caffeine straight into his veins. He wore dress pants and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, highlighting his perfect tan. He took each of them in with a smile. “Welcome, everybody,” he said, like he was about to give the keynote address at KillerCon. He seemed pleased to have so many more people in the room.
