Steel looks at me, his eyes trailing slowly over my bruises before he looks at the faint outline of his name, the permanent marker still on my skin.
“Jesus, he did that too?”
“It’s gone now,” I answer, shimmering into my panties before pulling on a pair of skintight jeans. I have to lie down on the sofa real quick to zip them up, but as soon as they’re on I hop up again.
“Speaking of tattoos,” King smirks, “You have an appointment with Stain the second we get back to the compound.”
“Pardon?” I stammer, while tugging on a tight singlet top, purposely not wearing a bra.
Not waiting for King to answer me, I lean over to get a kiss from Maverick before I straddle Steel’s lap. “Too much?” I ask carefully.
“Not nearly enough. Want to take a shower with me?”
“Yes.”
“No,” King barks. “Later you two can do whatever you want. Right now, we’re eating and then we’re leaving straight after. It’s about another four hours from here back to the compound. Tristan, you heard me right about Stain, he’s inking you up.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re mine.”
“And I believe I have a pack.”
“I don’t give a fuck if you want their names too, but mine is a non-negotiable. We’re going home, killer, and that means we’re dealing with club shit. Club shit I should have done a while ago, but one of those is my name on your body. Plus, I’m tattooing your ring on your finger. Yeah?”
“I want that ring back. They nearly broke my fucking finger ripping it off. One of them clearly thinks you have history.”
He shakes his head. “I haven’t been with anyone before you for a while. And definitely haven’t touched another woman since you and me met.”
I climb off Steel’s lap, because we both need to eat, and we’ll just keep distracting each other. But I also have this growing need to be the one to serve them. It’s such a stupid thing, I mean they are grown men capable of feeding themselves but this is another thing I am reclaiming. I set out five plates in a row, and I take my time making sure they have the same and it’s set out nicely before I hop up and carry their food to them. Providing for them honestly fills me with a sense of peace.
I sit down in front of them, none of them has started yet and I know they’re waiting for me.
“Now we’re packed,” I look up at each of them taking a long time as I go from each of them to the next, “I think it’s probably a good time to tell you, I can’t cook for shit.”
“Jesus, I can confirm that.” King laughs, flicking his chin up at me, waiting for me to start.
As soon as I take a bite, they do. And doing something as simple as eating together again feels fucking amazing. Not as good as getting railed by Tyson’s perfect dick, but there’s no doubt another piece of me returns.
Chapter
Fifty-Six
TRISTAN
King slows down at the gate, his hand tightens on mine as he opens the windows. “Fellas, how are we looking?”
The two guys are suddenly nervous. And I guess since I’ve always seen a different side of King I forget he has this other massive persona.
“Pres.” One of them nods respectfully, his eyes carefully locked on King and King only.
“Joker said to let you know we’ve got everything set up like you said. No one’s allowed down your place, but there’s a couple of prospects patrolling the back gate.”
He flicks his chin up in answer, before his hand moves and he guides me forward, into their line of sight. “Boys, this is Tristan.”
It’s all he says but there’s a stirring of warning and expectation in his words. They don’t ignore me, but their attention doesn’t stray far from King either.
“Welcome,” one of them says before they let King know they’ll lock down the compound and be ready whenever King calls everyone in.
