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“All right,” she says, not the least fazed by my outburst. I guess she’s learning to deal with my grumpy ass. “I’ll go see who it is.”
“Might be the delivery guy, he’s screened so you can open the door for him,” I mutter under my breath. Should I apologize to her?
“Okay,” she says, and I watch her walk away while I mumble that I’m sorry, and she flashes me one of her beautiful smiles, and my dick gets the memo instantly. I regret it the moment I hear a couple of familiar voices traveling down the hallway. My brothers. This wasn’t the fucking plan. Why are they here?
Chris is the first one to barge into the kitchen, and he waggles his eyebrows when he says hello and motions with his thumb behind him. “She’s still here after three weeks? I thought you’d have kicked her out by now?” He grins, already striking a nerve.
I bare my teeth at the son of a bitch and growl.
“Easy, tiger.” He laughs, raising his hands.
The next to burst through the kitchen is the youngest of the six of us. Jin-yeong smiles at me. We raised the kid well, and now, with his tattoos spilling up to his chin, many fear him and what he’s capable of, but with us, he’s the baby of the group.
“She’s really nice,” he says, getting all shy. That’s one thing he didn’t get the hang of—women. I hear her laugh echoing through the living room, followed by Jay’s high-pitched laugh he only reserves for people he likes.
“Don’t say anything.” I point to Taemin who’s batting his eyelashes at me, from across the kitchen. “And don’t look at her,” I tell him before stomping into the living room. She’s perched on the edge of the couch with the other guys standing around her and listening to her while she talks, her hands flying while she tells them something, making them all laugh in unison. A pang of jealousy flashes through my chest and I want to get my gun and put a red bullet right between their eyes. But I won’t, they are my brothers. I stand there like a dumbass, wondering if I forgot another meeting, and watch as they talk with her. Though their English isn’t good, and her Korean is bad as hell, somehow, they all make it work. Jay slams his hand on my shoulder, I know it’s him, we lived together for years so I know everyone’s tells.
“Are you keeping her?” he asks, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Thinking about it,” I murmur, checking the lasagna in the oven.
“You better act fast, because we’d all kill, and I mean it in the literal sense, for someone like her.” He laughs. I poke him in the side with my elbow. He winces but darts around the room like the kid he still is and settles on the couch next to Storm.
“What are you feeding us?” Han asks as he joins the fun, with a drink already in his hand. The fucker’s alcohol intake is getting out of control. I should know, not being that far behind myself. I stopped when I didn’t know what day it was—it was right before Storm barreled into my life.
It hasn’t been a month, and the fuckers are already here to check her out. She thinks she’s knee deep in debt, and I couldn’t tell her I took care of it. I keep watching her throughout the whole dinner, not saying anything as the guys try to vie for her attention like I’m not even in the room. Han in his fucking drunken state even told her about how he stabbed me when I was out of control and aiming for a fight. He made it sound like a fun little anecdote, when in fact, we almost killed each other because we couldn’t see eye to eye over new territory. I even told her a little about my time in Vegas, and the guys added their own stories, things they’d never told anyone. They like her. Fuck, I like her, and I have no idea how I can keep her after the week is over.
Sometimes she looks at me and I see it in her eyes, she isn’t scared of me anymore, and that needs to change. I’m going to fuck it into her again. She needs to fear me, everyone needs to fear me. After we say goodbye to the fuckers, she goes to stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows while I grab the last of the plates and dump them in the kitchen.
“The view is amazing,” she says, taking a deep breath.
I hold the marble counter for support.
“What?” She looks at me.
“Why aren’t you scared of me?”
She frowns. “What do you mean?”
“Why aren’t you scared of me?” I repeat the question, gritting my teeth.
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “You said you’d hurt me, but you haven’t, and this last week...”
“I’ve been slacking.” I pout, remembering how I woke her up during the night and without a word slid myself inside and made her come, not caring about getting off myself.
“You what?” she asks, watching me pace the living room like a caged animal.
“Are you drunk?” she asks, her voice faltering. “If this is about the debt—” she begins.
I slam my fists on the living room table. “It’s not about the fucking debt. It’s about you giving me what I want. I won you fair and square, remember?” I tell her, cornering her against the window. I place both my hands on the cold glass and watch her shrink a little before me, the defiant glare in her eyes not leaving her gaze. I hold my head a little to the side as I match hers, wanting her submission. I need it—hell, I crave it. And she better give it to me. I palm her pussy through the fabric of her pants.
“What are you doing, asshole?” she asks, all angry, and I almost lose it altogether. This wasn’t supposed to happen, me needing her. Me wanting to hear her panting in my ear as I make her come during the night or holding her in my arms while she sleeps. I grab her hips and shove her against the table.
“What are you doing?” she demands, pushing at my chest.
“Turn around,” I breathe out. I stare at my reflection in the windows and see the way my eyes are almost black. I need her now. I don’t care if she doesn’t. She’s mine, I’ll make her do what I want. “Turn the fuck around,” I repeat, and she shakes her head. I wipe a thumb over my bottom lip before I grab her hips, turning her around in one swift movement, pressing her against the table. I mold myself against her ass and she tries to scramble away from me.
“Fucking asshole,” she bites out. I chuckle and tangle my fingers in her hair, tugging her head back.
