Utterly, beautifully fucked.
Let the slow burn turn into an inferno.
Chapter Fourteen
Juliet
The grocery store lights are interrogation-level rude. The air smells like cold tile and artificial strawberries.
Offensive.
I’m trying to bask in the afterglow of first kiss innocence.
Vitaly should be home in nine minutes.
His tracker said he waited until my taillights disappeared before he even started his engine.
Fucking precious.
Mine.
But now?
We’re out of a few things.
And it’s important to make sure my men never doubt they are loved while I’m securing the newest family member.
So. Orion needs those disgusting protein bars he takes to his adrenaline hobby group.
They’re zip lining month.
Noah’s almost out of granola.
Elliot’s pretentious goat cheese that smells like Satan’s ass but apparently pairs with his soul.
And Callum. My beautiful disaster, is down to three sad nuggets of Cookie Crisp. Unacceptable.
His eating habits are the only innocence he has left.
I indulge my men.
I reach for the sacred blue box.
An arm brushes mine.
“Excuse me.”
That voice.
Low, rough, like gravel dipped in vodka and sin.
My fingers twitch.
Everything else just stops and listens.
He plucks a random box off the shelf. Doesn’t even look at it.
Because he’s looking at me like he’s already fucked me six ways on this linoleum and is deciding which position to repeat.
