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A longer stretch of silence.
Niles chuckles to himself. “I just had a mental image of Dessin wearing grippy socks.”
Dessin whips back, lunging at Niles and getting in his face like a tornado grazing the earth. “I’m trying to focus on getting us the fuck out of here, Niles. And I was stressed before you started talking. But now I’m way past that. Why? Because at this moment, I’m thinking about my girl, wearing nothing but a shred of floss, walking in the vicinity of prisoners. Do you want to know what happens when I get the mental image of other men staring at Skylenna’s perfect ass?”
Niles shakes his head, green eyes wider than I’ve ever seen them.
“I kill people.”
Niles doesn’t breathe. Doesn’t blink.
“Just this once, can you make my life a little easier?” Dessin says in a slow exhale.
“Shutting up, sir.”
Dessin nods once, turning back to me with damn near black eyes and a lasting scowl on his face.
I crack a smile. “He copes with humor.”
“If I’m not allowed to cope, neither is he.”
“How would you like to cope?”
“With my fist in your hair and my cock buried inside your wet cunt,” he rasps in my ear, voice strained and laced with venom.
Heat shoots straight to my lower belly. I clench my inner walls.
“Gotcha.”
He smirks, the simmering rage starting to melt over his features.
“Niles actually makes a pretty good point,” Warrose says, taking a quick glance down at Ruth. “There’s got to be something else the girls can wear.”
“You didn’t like the dresses that were Demechnef-approved, and now you don’t like my skimpy prisoner bathing suit?” Ruth retorts.
“I fucking hate it. One extreme to the other. You’re”—he glances down at her body, then looks away with a grunt—“half naked.”
Ruth shrugs. “It’s kinda comfy.”
Warrose shakes his head with a tightly clenched jaw. He stands out like a massive oak tree in a desert. Bare chest with raised tattoos, beautiful bronze skin, and hazel eyes that could light up this hallway all by themselves. He ties his dark hair back with a string.
I catch Ruth assessing his muscles, too. “You are also half naked, hypocrite.” She scowls.
“It’s not the same,” Dessin calls over his shoulder.
“Exactly. No one’s going to follow us men back to our cages. It’s you three we’ll have to guard around the clock.” Warrose refuses to look back down at Ruth.
“Speak for yourself,” Niles scoffs from the back, clearly forgetting about Dessin’s outburst. “I’m a sex magnet. Any women in the vicinity will flock to me once they see my tan chest and shredded back.”
“Your hairless chest,” Ruth corrects.
Warrose and Dessin burst into deep, rumbling laughter.
I smile. God, I hope this place doesn’t beat the humor out of us.
~
I take a slow step back from the packed room before me.
