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GENEVIEVE
Iswing my legs back and forth as I sit on the counter with the bowl in my lap, passing Eric chocolate chips, and I can’t help but smile. He catches me grinning and kisses me softly.
“Stop distracting me or we will all be eating you for breakfast,” he murmurs against my lips, making me grin wider as my thighs clench at the idea. He notices of course, they all do. Booker laughs at my reaction, Archer looks away, and Gage stoically stares at his empty plate like food will magically appear.
Winking at Eric, I tip the whole bowl into the batter, causing him to chase me around the kitchen before I slump into my chair as we dig into the breakfast Eric and I created. I’m happy today. I feel more at home, like I belong, like I’m helpful. Some people would probably think I’m a fucking idiot for giving up my life, my penthouse, and the riches and royalty of London for this secluded farmhouse, but then those people have probably never felt such intense loneliness that it’s a constant open wound, one that can be filled with material things but will never heal with anything but love. I know I will eventually go back to my life, but it will be different. There is nothing back there in that empty world for me. No, this is what I want—friendship, laughter, and people to share meals with. I want someone to care for and to care for me, so I can enjoy life rather than just succeed in it.
When it comes down to it, money can’t buy you everything. No amount of jewels, riches, nice cars, and houses can make up for the emotional toll and damage of being unhappy. Some of the richest people in this world are the most depressed. I should know. How many times have I looked in the mirror and wondered if anyone would care if I left? If anyone would chase me?
How long have I ached for a family? To feel like I belonged?
I never imagined it would be with a bunch of thieves, but when you peel back all the bullshit between us, the truth is clear. They are good men just trying to survive in this world together, as a family. One I want—no,needto be a part of.
Booker’s hand lands on my leg under the table just like yesterday, massaging and stroking. They constantly seem to have their hands on me, and I eat the attention up. Starved for his touch, I open my thighs wider for him, and his eyes twinkle as his big palm slides up my legs to my pussy. He cups it possessively through my knickers, all while casually eating. I push myself firmer into his touch, trying not to draw attention to what he is doing, but they have certainly noticed my increased breathing. They are that attuned to my every move.
My eyes drop to my plate as Booker’s hand grinds into my partially covered pussy, making my breath hitch. There’s a bang, and I jump, my eyes widening as I look up to see Gage swearing. He dropped his fork, and he quickly bends down to get it. I freeze. Booker doesn’t, but I have no problem seeing the exact moment Gage sees what is happening under the table. He straightens with a jerk, his eyes stormy as he leaps to his feet, his lip twisted in a snarl. Without a word, he storms out the backdoor without a coat, the door slamming behind him. I look guiltily at Archer.
He seems perplexed, glancing from me to the door. With a sigh, I stand. “I’ll go after him.”
“That’s probably not a good idea,” Archer murmurs, but I roll my eyes.
“At least we know he won’t kill me now…maybe,” I mutter as I pass him, slipping my feet into some big trainers at the door before going out after him. He’s already halfway into the fields, so I hurry up, my feet almost slipping from the trainers until I give up and kick them off. I know I won’t catch him with them on, and I want to catch him to figure out what the fuck his problem is.
It’s clear he wants me, but he won’t act on it. Fine, but why does he have such an issue with me? Does he still not trust me? Does he still want to kill me?
I need to know why.
My feet slide in the mud as I struggle to run, but I manage to stay up and not fall on my ass. Panting, I stop behind him as he stands with his back to me. He clearly knows I’m here. Looking around, I realise we are in the middle of a muddy, abandoned field.
Lovely.
“What the fuck is your issue?” I demand.
His shoulders tense, but he doesn’t turn. He doesn’t respond, so I continue throwing questions at him.
“Seriously, why do you hate me so much? Come on, Gage, what is your issue? I’m betting you’re dying to tell me!” I yell, my voice growing louder with each question.
He spins, his eyes wider than I’ve ever seen them as he suddenly advances on me. I stumble back a step, almost slipping in the mud. “You! You’re my fucking problem!” His chest heaves as he glares down at me, and my mouth drops open in shock.
“Why?” I ask softly. I realise my voice is betraying my hurt, and I hate it. I’m back to being a street kid that no one liked or wanted around. My old insecurities raise their ugly head until it’s hard to breathe past them, until I’m choking on them, waiting for the truth I see in his eyes.
“Because you’re changing everything,” he snaps. “You don’t even see it, but I do. The way you are wrapping them around your finger, having them wait on you hand and foot—”
“Like hell I am!” I retort.
“Just like any other fucking entitled rich girl,” he spits out.
“Oh, fuck you.” I slap his chest, then point in his face. “I’m anything but fucking entitled, and you know it. I pull my weight and always have, so don’t give me that bullshit. You are just fucking mad and jealous because they have what you want!”
“And what’s that?” he sneers down at me, so close that if I pressed up on my toes, we could kiss. I’d rather slap him.
“Me.” I smirk.
His eyes narrow, and his lips twist in disgust. “If I wanted a rich bitch like you, I could have you. I’d have you begging for my cock on your knees. So don’t think you are something special.”
“Oh, but I am, and your friends know that.” I tilt my head as I run my hand down his chest to cup his hard cock, proving my point. “But you will never find out.”
“Want to bet?” he snarls, gripping my chin and dragging me against his body. One touch, and I’m leaning into him, my pussy slick with desire, and he knows it. “I bet if I reached between your legs right now, I’d find you wet as hell, so who is really winning here, rich bitch?”
