Page 187 of Wanted By a King

“This is the closest we are gonna get. It might lead us to them. Or at the least, we get some Reapers to torture.”

I nod. “Agreed.”

“What is it?” Munroe asks, but we won’t divulge everything now.

“All you need to know is tomorrow afternoon, we are going on a mission that may or may not lead us into the lion’s den.”

“Fuck yeah!” Munroe cheers, thumping his fist on the table, and my brothers all follow suit.

Handing the phone back to Titch, I grin, and his lips spread wide in response.

“I’m going?”

“Yep. You’re going.”

“Where’s he going?” Doug asks and I shake my head.

“You don’t need to know that yet.” I announce, “but Doug, you need to start building us more bombs. Like now.”

A sinister grin contorts Doug’s face, and it does nothing to make the poor guy any better looking.

“Munroe and Stretch, you help Doug. The rest of you go with Cain to blow your loads over his arsenal and get ready, because tomorrow, we take this war to the Reapers.”

All the men cheer, thump the table, and leave the room excitedly while Cain is almost dancing in his chair.

“All this talk of arsenal is making me horny. Once I arm you fuckers up, I’ll be down in the basement with my wifey. I have an itch I need scratching.”

He jumps from his chair. Like actually jumps and bounds out of the room calling out a weird war cry as he leads the men to his weapons room.

“Fuck that man is a lot.” Rocco grumbles from next to me, and I chuckle, nodding as I stand with Zoe in my arms, still asleep.

I leave Rocco in the room, my own need leading me to the small booth that I claimed for me and Zoe last night up on the main floor.

The booths in question are a part of the strip club. They work by patrons feeding money into the slot on the viewing side, and the partition blocking the view into the booth starts to lift to reveal what’s inside the booth. Patrons can watch for as long as they want as long as they keep feeding cash into it. If they don’t, the partition slowly lowers, and their show is over.

Right now, the inside of those booths are the most private we can get in here, and since the club is temporarily closed until we can find a new fucking home to relocate to, there’s no one feeding the booths to lift those partitions.

The booth isn’t very big. It’s a seven by seven-foot closet with hanging harnesses falling from the center of the ceiling, a small padded box seat, and some instruments attached to one wall, giving the women some play equipment to have fun with.

Last night I made a makeshift bed with blankets and pillows, and while it’s small, it’s also cozy and really makes me feel like we are in our own bubble.

As I go back up in the elevator, I smile down at Zoe as she sleeps, looking ridiculous with the big headphones covering her ears and the blindfold over her eyes. As ridiculous as it looks, it also has me hard as a fucking rock because the ideas that come to mind of what I can do to my princess while she’s like this keep slamming into my brain like a freight train.

When the elevator doors open, I hurry through the club, making my way to our claimed booth and shut us in.

Dropping to my knees on the pillows and blankets, I lay Zoe down, and she stirs awake.

“Gray?” she asks too loudly. “What are we doing now?”

I don’t bother answering. She still can’t hear me with the music playing in her ears.

Instead, I show her.

Leaning down, I press my lips to hers and claim them in a searing kiss that has her moaning loudly. My hands find the swell of her tits as she arches her back, and I cup them through the fabric of her top before my hand descends lower.

As soon as I press my fingers to her mound, she gyrates her hips, hungry for more.

Eyeing the array of harnesses hanging from the ceiling, I grin, shifting to use my free hand, and I quickly attach them around her ankles before hoisting them up.

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