I chew on my inner cheek, deciding not to question those laws and rewards for now. “So, where is my bed?”
Raphael nods to his left. “With Vincent.”
“What?”
Vincent snaps his head up, echoing, “Yeah, what?”
A chill rushes up my spine. My stomach somersaults.
Raphael steps toward me, flexing his fingers at his side. “You will share his bed tonight…unless you’d care to stay in the bathroom with Rory.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Pass. What about Jude?” I flick my eyes to the man I trust most in this damned gang.
Raphael crosses the distance to me, his shadow falling over my body, chilling me to the bone, but also setting my blood on fire. “If you continue to question my authority, Briella,afteryour five days of service are done, you will be disciplined.”
Slowly, I rise, clenching my hands, prepared not to question but to test my boundaries. “Can the service be whatever I want?”
“Within reason.” He nods.
I shrug. “I can work with that.”
“So, this is your cabin?”I survey the area as Vincent closes the door behind us.
“Sure ain’t Rory’s. He’s a slob.”
I take in the area. It’s smaller but feels spacious. One large bed on the left-hand side sits opposite the small kitchen. In the back of the cabin is a small area with a sitting bench near the floor-to-ceiling window that doubles as a back door.
I shiver because it’s still late fall in the middle of the thick Redwood forest, and all I’m wearing is the sundress.
Vincent opens the free-standing wood-burning stove next to the kitchen, adds a few logs, tinder, and strikes a match, lighting the fire. I smile at the basket full of knitting materials. He couldn’t have made it easier for me. I hope he’s a deep sleeper.
I’m so caught up looking around, I don’t notice him until he’s right behind me, fingers touching the dress sleeves.
“Holy shit!” I flinch, jerking away. “I need to get you a bell or somethi—ohmygod!”
All the breath leaves my lungs when I turn around. Because he’s naked. Head-to-toe naked with all his muscles and tattoos on full display, and his dick hard and throbbing and far too excited to see me. I clamp a hand over my mouth, stepping back only for heat to attack my back. Too much heat.
Vincent huffs, swinging an arm around me, tearing me away from the stove. “Nothing you haven’t felt, Girly.” He doesn’t grind against me, but his cock still rubs against my belly.
“I guess seeing is believing,” I mutter, looking away, looking in every direction but him. Believing, acknowledging he was inside me. Not as thick as Raphael. Not as long as Jude. But Vincent passes for the eight-inch territory.
When he slides one strap down my shoulder, I try to pull away, but his hold is iron-strong on my back. “What the fuck are you?—”
“Kinship law, Girly. Nothing between us.” A grunt leaves his throat as he does the next strap, tugging the dress down until it slides down my hips, leaving me naked and pressed against all his endless masculinity, muscles, ridges, and tattoos that go on for miles.
I try to cover myself with my arms. “What?” I glare at him. “Now, you have your way with me?”
He rolls his eyes, huffing. “Hardly. None of us is allowed to fuck you until your two-week healing is up.”
Shock stutters my pulse. “Seriously?”
“Unless you beg for it.” He shrugs, then pulls away. Seth would wink. Rory would grind. Jude would simply sweep me into his arms and off to bed.
But Vincent? He just turns, showing me his scarred back, and climbs into the bed.
“You gonna stay there all night so I can stare at your pretty purple hair and perfect, pink tits until I fall asleep, or are you gonna get in bed?” He gestures to the other side of the bed.
“You guys have weird laws,” I sigh before getting into bed, welcoming the heavy quilt. I wince from the wounds.
