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I don’t need to turn around to know who’s behind me. Realistically, I’ve been well aware of his ‘presence.’
That’s his specialty.
“Ares.” I flick the safety of my gun back on and proceed to slip it back into my pant pocket. Pulling out a white handkerchief from my other pocket, I wipe my cock clean and tuck my precious rod back into my boxers. “If you’re so keen to watch me fuck bitches, you might as well come out and play along.”
“I’d lose interest,” Ares admits and walks into my line of vision. It’s impossible not to catch sight when his hair is an intriguing mix of silver and what pesky hookers compliment as ‘Tiffany blue.’
Brings all the rich bitches to our backyard, hoping to marry a loaded royal. As though it’s not earned.
“One look and you know they ain’t loyal,” Ares notes as he watches her body continue its twitch fest.Until he’s pulling out his gun and shooting her once.The twitching stops. “Fakes don’t deserve to fight for their lives.”
Isn’t that the truth?
I watch the way his eyes, which replicate the unique shade of his hair pallet, enjoy the sight of smoke that drifts from the barrel of his gun.
“If I’m going to commit to a woman, she needs to stare at me with so much hostility that I’m confident she’s plotting my murder in the depths of her cunning mind.”
“Women aren’t cunning,” I grunt with a side-eye.
“Keep telling the Universe that, and she’ll gladly throw a woman into your life who’s a greater mastermind than Zander.”
“Now, don’t bring me into your prophetic deviations.” The man himself makes his presence known.
We only need to lift our gazes to see him casually chilling against the door frame of the tiny room, cigarette lit and relaxing between his fingertips.
“If you’re here, that tells me there’s trouble,” I mutter in disdain.
“I continue to enjoy how your misfortune, which includes ruined climax rituals, is pinned on me for doing my job,” Zander complains. “You told me to keep an eye on my text messages while you finished ‘business.’” He takes an exaggerated inhale and lets out the stream of smoke like an offering to our surroundings. “Which you didn’t say involved fucking that douche’s mistress, but hey. I don’t judge.”
“You sound like you’re judging,” Ares calmly notes.
I know he’s fucking amused. He never shows it, but my guts tell me he thrives when it comes to Zander’s stupid commentary.
“You didn’t even get to her pussy?” He’s directing his question to me.
“Worn and used,” I grumble.
“If you walked in here thinking she’d be a virgin, you’re more delusional than when I miss my medication dose,” Zander mumbles. “I didn’t take mine yet.”
The way we’re both staring at him with hardened gazes makes him chuckle with a taunting grin.
“Joking. Joking.”
“Why do I not believe you?” Ares is twitching to walk to our rather cynical ally and best friend.
“Because I’m smoking, which I do when I’m either nervous, haven’t fucked a good tight pussy in eons, or when I miss my meds.”
Our intense gaze has him smiling further.
“And when we’re summoned?”
Fuck…
“Seriously?” My heart is already galloping in anxious scrutiny.
“The Ruthless Kings have been summoned by the Lord Almighty,” Zander purrs, imitating some sort of poetic announcer.
“You didn’t take your meds,” Ares grunts and walks to the black-haired, chiseled beast, whose red eyes deflate. “The contact lenses give it away, you know?”
