Ghost jostles me, and my back bangs on the wall, but I don’t care. "Do it, baby,” I rasp, needing him despite the soreness.
I moan loudly when we both come together.
“Hey,” I hear, seeing Synn's silhouette through the frosted, glass door. Then, “Nope,” as he plucks me right out of the shower.
I sigh, his caveman instincts once again turning him into my favorite alpha hole.
Synn carries me to the bedroom, tossing clothes toward me. I get dressed, waiting on the others to pull on clothes.
“Breakfast is ready,” Hunter calls up to us.
We sound like a herd of elephants rushing downstairs. I'm starving after all the delicious sex.
We all take a seat at the beautiful dining table. It's just big enough for all of us, done in chrome and glass, which I love.
Trikk brings out plates of food, serving me first. I salivate seeing banana pancakes, bacon, and eggs piled high on my plate.
I drown my pancakes in syrup, and dig in.
We all eat in silence for a while until a thought comes to me, which I voice eagerly.
“I want a tattoo, to match all yours. Can we do that today?”
Frost's eyes meet mine, emotion shining in the icy blue depths. “Absolutely, Killer. I would love that.”
“We need to go by the compound, anyway,” Ghost speaks up. “Our mothers need to be sorted, and we need to check on the cannibal.”
I roll my eyes. “His name is Michael,” I tut.
“And we need to pack our shit,” Synn adds.
“I also want to see Cynthia, and the ZYGOS guys to thank them for all their help,” I say, leaning back in my seat.
“That’s settled, then. Let's head out after breakfast,” Hunter announces.
“I’m going to take you to the artist we had do our tats, Iskra. He’s really good. He also made an opening for us,” Purge takes a bite of food, nodding as he swallows.
“How did you know to set that up?” I ask in confusion.
“I know my wife,” Purge replies, his eyes sparkling.
We all finish up, and I grab a coffee to go.
We head out in the borrowed car, since we need to return it. The guys have one of our new cars already waiting at the compound.
Damn, I can’t fucking wait to drive my dream car. Soon. I've already been told I’m not touching the wheel until they know I’m ready and have a legal driver’s license.
In no time, we pull up to a small tattoo shop. A bell chimes when we enter.
I look around, taking in the designs on the walls, the clean smell, and the heavily tattooed and pierced guy heading toward us.
Damn... he's sexy...
I yelp as Razor smacks my hand. “Be good,” he growls.
These fuckers can read my mind, I swear.
“Hi, guys. I take it this is Phoenyxx?” the artist says.
