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“That’s because we’ve all been abiding by the rules, and I’m aware that bringing a woman with us is technically breaking them,” says Bruce in a smooth tone. “But welcome to the new world order,” he says on a rasp. “Everything changes, especially any rules that were made to be broken.”
The men remain silent, but I can tell they have questions.
“So can we bring women too?” asks a snivelly guy named Luis.
I glare at him.
“No,” is my short answer.
“Wha – ? ” But he’s cut off.
“No,” I say again. Luis nods and dips his head, even if he’s not exactly happy. My muscles tighten as the adrenaline courses through my veins. I realize I’ve closed my hand around Annabel’s tiny, plump wrist in an iron grip. It’s a natural reflex because I’m protecting my bounty, just in case the pack decides to turn on us. But so far, it seems to be going to plan.
“Her name is Annabel, and you will all show her respect,” growls Bruce. “She helped us secure a huge haul, and you owe her your allegiance. She’ll be living with us from now on.” He pauses for a moment before emphasizing in a threatening growl: “None of you will touch her.”
“How do you expect us to act like gentlemen when you bring such a beautiful woman into our midst?” whines Luis to some murmurs of agreement. Bruce’s eyes flash dangerously. He stares at him from beneath his brow, and the room goes quiet. At least, Luis has the decency to look somewhat frightened. I can feel my blood boiling as my hand squeezes tighter around Annabel’s wrist. An animal instinct has taken over; it’s a fierce urge to protect.
“Since you’re so fucking dumb, Luis,” I rasp threateningly, “Let me make it easier for your little brain to comprehend, shall I?” In heavy strides, I take three huge steps toward the dais, dragging Annabel with me. Somewhere on the fringes of my consciousness, I’m aware that I’m probably frightening her, but this needs to be done. I’ll explain later. I’ll make it up to her a thousandfold. I step up on the dais next to Bruce, pulling Annabel roughly up beside me.
“Here,” I growl, spitting venom. “Have a good look, Luis. All of you. Go on.” The men exchange glances, not knowing whether or not this is safe. “I said look,” I say, as I roughly yank her thin dress up, exposing her thighs and pussy. She gasps but doesn’t resist. The men’s eyes go to her legs and then to those sweet lips, hidden behind the thin veil of her silk panties. “That’s right,” I continue. My hand squeezes her thigh possessively, and then I move it up to cup her pussy. To my surprise, Annabel’s drenched. What? But I carry on, rubbing her lips.
“This is ours. Take a good look because this is your only chance. You’ll never get another glimpse of this sweetness because she belongs to us.” I can hear my brother growling as well; I don’t even need to look over at him. My hand goes to Annabel’s chest, where I cup one of her huge, full breasts, again making her gasp. But I recognize it as a gasp of arousal, and not of fear. Holy shit, she’s enjoying this, and for some reason, that turns me on. “She’s ours,” I emphasize, squeezing her tits while I glare at the men.
“Now that you’ve had a good look,” continues Bruce in a dangerously mild tone. “You won’t have to go around wondering what she’s like. You’ve seen it. You know she’s ours. So hands off.” I yank Annabel’s clothes back in place and put my arm around her waist, pulling her soft body firmly to me as she gasps.
“We’re not monsters, of course,” I add with a dangerous grin. “We’re aware this isn’t fair to you. Why should we be able to bring our girl here, while you’re barred from the same act? First of all, things have changed slightly since we started the Robin Hood Foundation.” At this, I sense Annabel look up at me in curiosity. “We have a cover now, and it’s a good one. We can afford to bend the rules a little. Maybe.”
“Meaning,” continues Bruce, “that everything else stays the same. But if anyone wants to discuss bringing a girl to the safehouse in the future, it’s something we can put on the table. We’ll have hearings every Sunday as usual, and you can make your case then. We’ll talk about it. No promises, but the world is always changing, isn’t it? And that includes us.”
The room goes quiet as the crew takes this in. Holy shit, women in the safehouse? It seems crazy, but it makes a weird sort of sense. When guys pay for sex, they can get lazy. They can start talking, and develop loose lips after a hot session in bed. Wouldn’t it be better for them to divulge their secrets to a woman who’s in-house, instead of someone who works for god knows whom?
