Page 24 of Pretty Threats

The fact that I had my fingers in her pussy an hour ago apparently doesn’t change things between us. One set of rules for the bed. Another set out of it. It’s easy to drop into our old routine. We had a lot of practice compartmentalizing. No one knew about the times we got each other off under her covers.

It’s crazy that they never caught me going into her room after dark. I did it a lot. Even after we traded blood for blood. But those later visits were just to look at her. And to prove, if only to myself, that she couldn’t keep me out.

Back in my room now, the tags from the clothes lie on the bed, and she’s in the red dress. It’s a color that looks great on her, but she never wears it. Don’t know why.

Her back’s exposed, and the impulse to drag my tongue down the delicate little bones of her spine hits me full force. Her arms reach back to try and tie two pieces of hanging fabric. I walk over, push her hands away, and do it.

“I forgot this dress has a satin lining. It’s really comfortable, actually. But I couldn’t wear a bra with it even if I had a clean one because of the reverse halter.”

I don’t know what she’s saying, and I don’t care. I’m close enough to smell her freshly washed skin, and my response is Pavlovian. My cock gets hard and wants to bury itself inside her. My hands want to pin her down on the bed.

With our current fate uncertain, I would’ve fucked her for real this morning if I could’ve. The restraint prevented it. Now, the moment’s passed. At least until she’s back in a bed.

I don’t really have time anyway. The drive to the meeting spot will take forty-five minutes.

Raine starts toward the door.

“No. Stay here. I’ll take you out there.”

She hesitates, tilting her head so wet strands sway. Burying my fingers in her hair and yanking her head back to kiss her is what I’d like to do. That could lead to other things, like hot sex, which would be worth going to my meeting late.

But War would interrupt us. So, a nonstarter.

“I’ll wait outside the door,” Raine says.

“Nah, just close your eyes if you don’t want to watch me dress.”

She turns toward the wall. Such a fucking good girl. I don’t think she’s ever actually seen my cock. Not even the night she had it in her mouth for a few minutes. Everything we’ve ever done has been under bed covers.

I dress in jeans and a sweatshirt. From what I understand, the meeting’s outside, and though it’s sunny, it’s also only fifty degrees right now.

“Okay. Come on,” I say, opening the bedroom door.

Other than a media room, my bedroom, the bathroom, and a small office, the whole main floor is wide open. Since this building used to be a manufacturing plant, we’ve got a lot of space, which suits us.

As big as we are, with the edges to our personalities, being smashed into a dorm room or standard student apartment would not have worked for long. I’m glad the bosses recognized that and put us here.

Renovating and furnishing this place must’ve cost some serious coin. The C Crue bosses have invested a lot of time and money into us. So far, we’ve provided a good return on that investment. I’m glad there were no hitches with the actual kill mission.

As Raine and I emerge from the back area, her gaze shifts to the seating area with the coffee table that has a chunk of reclaimed wood as its base. Sitting on the beveled glass top, there’s a laptop. Not mine, so it must be Jamie’s.

War stands at the massive stone countertop of the kitchen island, wolfing down food. Jamie’s eating too, but he’s sitting on a bar stool. We order in a lot, but sometimes one of us cooks. I can only do a few basic things, like scrambled eggs or whatever. War’s the best of the three of us when it comes to preparing food. Jamie’s second. I’m last.

Funny, that I’m still ranking us on everything. When we spent those summer months training, we always knew the standings among all the guys there. There were ten total, but pretty quickly, I only concerned myself with the three of us. Jamie’s the most accurate with a gun, especially if the target’s moving. I’m next. War’s last. Of course, that was then. War’s competitive, so he goes to the range nearly every day. He may have closed the gap by now.

In hand-to-hand combat, War’s top dog. I’m not an easy takedown, even for him, because I’m big and strong, too. But he knows more moves and with his size, he always eventually wins. I’ve been going to a jujitsu gym because I’m competitive, too. I still couldn’t beat him, but one day…

When Raine steps out from behind me, both of the guys stop eating to look at her. I stiffen. I knew this was coming, but I still don’t like it.

“Well, that’s an outfit you should be buried in,” Jamie says. When she pales, he quickly goes on. “I just meant it looks perfect on you, not that bad fortune’s coming.”

Bad fortune? What the fuck? Sometimes he talks like we’re in an Irish folktale. I can’t believe anyone our age fucking speaks that way, even in Ireland.

War scoops more lasagna onto his plate without commenting. Good.

I grab two plates and fill one for Raine and hand it to her. She sets it in front of the middle stool, next to Jamie. I don’t want her there, so I slide the plate in front of the stool at the opposite end, between where War’s standing and where I’ll sit.

In the long dress, it takes a little effort for her to arrange herself on the tall barstool. She actually puts a foot on a rung to climb up. Sometimes, I forget she’s not very tall. Before this week, I hadn’t stood or sat next to her in over a year.

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