He’s perfection.
And all mine.
Every piece of him is mine.
I squeeze my thighs together to chase away the phantom flutter that races through my core.
Dear gods, will I ever get enough of my men?
Speaking of them…
We only have two days left now before life goes back tonormaland I refuse to walk around this house like strangers any longer.
Their silent treatment stops now.
Plus, I’ve been lying here for an hour staring at Riven while trying to figure out what’s changed the most with my soul. I need my eyes on them so I can work it out for myself or get Creed to explain it.
I feel…different. Not in a bad way, though. It’s difficult to describe.
My chest is no longer on the verge of ripping open and there are four very distinct directions it goes. Each weighs the same, but that’s where the similarities in the ropes end.
I could already pinpoint which was Kyzen, Creed, and Amick, but something about tying Riven in with them has made those distinctions very pronounced.
Right now, though, two of the four have basically shut me out and I don’t like that one little bit. Every time I stroke my soul, nothingness comes back to me like I’ve hit a wall.
When and or why Creed told Kyzen how to block me out is an answer I expect immediately.
I’m pretty sure I could shove my soul right through that metaphorical barrier they’ve put up—okay, maybe not Creed’s—but I’m not going to do that.
They’ll have to look me in the eye and explain why the hell they don’t want me feeling them.
Riven’s lips smack together and my body freezes as I try to scoot out from under his arm.
“Don’t touch my muffins.”
I press my hand to my mouth and hold my breath. It takes everything in me not to laugh at the incoherent words he continues to spew.
He flops himself over onto his back and I take this as my opportunity to ease myself out of the bed.
“I’ll cut your fingers off.”
A snort escapes me as my bare toes hit the floor, and I quickly but quietly make my way to the closet, then snatch on some clothes.
He’s still mumbling murderous threats over food as I make it to my door without falling out in hysterics. The muscles in my cheeks twitch with my restraint, but I let a smile break out across my face as soon as I get into my hallway.
My look slowly fades, and my breath rushes out of me as my feet slam to a stop.
Creed’s shirtless back is on full display for my viewing pleasure. Every muscle ripples as he reaches into the cabinet for a coffee mug, and I have an insatiable desire to go run my tongue down his spine.
For the Valories, my men are fine.
“You want some coffee, or do you want to stand there all morning?”
I flinch and blink my eyes back into focus.
Smug asshole.
He isn’t smirking or smiling, but that glimmer in his eyes tells me he enjoyed catching me ogling him.
