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“Damn, little bitch.” Dalton whistles in the doorway, taking in my position, then glancing behind me with a tilt of his head and saying, “You blow her brains out, bro? The last thing she saw was Tillie taking your dick like she owns it.” He winks at me as he leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his barrel chest.
“Can I please take Paris’s body for a while? I promise to have her parts back in time for Franco’s dinner party.” Tey pouts dramatically and bats his lashes when I look up at him, confused.
“What… Jesus. I forgot about the dinner with the judge. He’s going to be in for a surprise, that’s for sure.” I glance over my shoulder and can’t help but grimace at Paris.
Her body is still in a sitting position, but her head hangs back with her chin tipped towards the ceiling. A bullet holeis just slightly below her jaw, and behind her on the wall is splattered brain matter. What a mess.
“I am not cleaning that up,” I say with a shiver.
“What are you going to do with her body?” Nicky asks in a bored tone as he casually strolls into the room and stops by Paris’s body.
He examines her as an excited Tey walks over to him and tilts her body parts left and right, like he can’t decide where to start. Nicky tenses with a scowl on his face, and dare I say a hint of jealousy is shining in his green eyes?
“Nicholas,” I say softly as I stand from Logan’s lap with his helping hand, hiding my shaking limbs as best as I can and the cum leaking down my thighs while walking towards Nicky.
I’m not doing the best either since everyone’s attention is on me like sharks in blood-infested water.
“Down boys.” I giggle at the hungry looks scanning up and down my body. “What art piece are you going to make, TeyTey?” I ask with an interested hum as I twine my fingers with Nicky’s and give him a gentle squeeze.
His whole body seems to melt with the simple touch, and his emerald eyes stare down at me with gratitude.
I get where he’s coming from. Having to watch Tey from a distance and wanting him for so long, it’s hard to get past the thought of him being someone else's, even a dead body. I’m the exception, and I’m just happy his heart is big enough for two people. I really do feel lucky every morning when I open my eyes and think about each of my guys.
“I was thinking the hole in the back of her head could be filled with flowers. I think it would be pretty.” Tey circles Paris’s body with his index and thumb cradling his chin as he’s deep in thought.
That’s my man. The artist.
“That’s perfect,” I say with approval in my voice and mean every word.
Whatever they do, I can’t help but think that they are perfect in their own unique way, no matter if it looks crazy to the outside world.
What the hell does that say about me, though?
Crazy is, as crazy does?
Oh, well.
I joined the crazy train a long time ago.
Nicola
Ilove my brother, I really do, but I’m not about to watch him as he stares at the monitoring screen of Dom’s torture chamber while my bitch best friend is fucking her other boyfriend into submission. It’s really distracting listening to the moaning and a shit ton of dirty talk. It’s why I’m in the back of the room with Evan as he faces the wall and hums under his breath to block out all the noise.
I think I’m in love. He’s such a wonderful boyfriend, so caring and sweet, that I want to get out of here so I can ride his disco stick, but I’m going to have to wait. I don’t want to listen to Tillie having sex, but I want to make sure she’s okay. That’s what friends do. Ride or die, or in this case, listen to my home girl get some.
That’s my bestie in there, staking her claim, and I’m so damn proud of her.
“Girl power!” I shout loudly in the quiet surveillance room, interrupting the ragged breathing of her men and Tey’s cray-cray mumbling.
Nicky whips his head over towards me, taking his dilated eyes off the computer screen. His eyebrows hit his hairlineas if he’s surprised, I’m still here and he forgot about me. I rock on my heels, pinch Evans' tight butt without meaning to, and shift my gaze to the ceiling because everyone is staring at me now and I’d rather not see the tented pants popping up everywhere I look.
Gross.
These guys are like big brothers to me. I’ve known them my whole life. Except Dom, so I guess it’s okay to look. I mean, Tillie already gave me a mental image of what he’s packing down there with her hands, so I’m kind of curious. It can’t be bigger than Dalton's, and I only know his dick is big because I’ve always thought he walks a little too confidently as if he has a third leg, plus my girl was walking like a cowboy after I stumbled into their fuckfest at Gary the douche’s party.
“Bonetown!” I yell, pointing fingers like little guns, and then smack myself in the forehead because it’s now known what I was just thinking about.
I used to be beyond embarrassed by my Tourette’s, but I learned over the years that no matter who you are, someone is always going to judge you. I decided to own that shit and make everyone else my bitch. Okay. Not really. I’m just a girl who looks in the mirror and likes what she sees. Not many can say or do that. We all have our flaws, differences, etc. I’m proud of mine.
