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“Why do I have to be in time out?” I ask, hugging his neck, playing with his hair again. He likes that.
He snorts at my phrasing. “We have to discuss Roman. And the codes.”
“Hm.” I kiss his forehead. “What if I’m really good and just sit quietly? I won’t even breathe.”
He laughs outright at that, shaking his head. “That’s not allowed, either.”
“Okay, I’ll breathe, but very softly,” I whisper the last part, and he kisses my neck, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna be away from you, either, you know.”
He looks into my eyes, all stress and overthinking like he was last night, and I give him the same smile that nearly knocked him out. And same as before, his breathing pattern soothes, the tension in his jaw relaxes.
“You’ll tell me if you’re uncomfortable,” he says, not a question, but an order. “And I’ll bring you in here to relax and wait for us to finish.”
I nod. “I can walk in here myself, too, if it’s important or—”
He pinches my ass, and I gasp at the little shock of pain, heat flooding my cheeks. “You will tell me. If you. Are uncomfortable.”
If that’s what he meant bypunishmentsandpain,I’m gonna have a hard time not fighting him on everything just to get in trouble.
I swallow, squirming against him. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.”
Mmm… Maybe not too hard a time. I really, really love how that sounds.
He keeps me wrapped around his waist as we walk back out to the loft, where Murder and Mayhem have made their way to the table. Neither of them speak, but the tension is tangible when Ghost sets me in one of the chairs.
“Uh,” Murder says, “boss—”
“She stays.” Ghost sits next to me, pulling my chair closer until it bumps against his. His hand drapes over my lap, gripping my thigh tight enough my skin pales under the pressure.
I trail my hand over his arm, dancing over one thick vein on the way down, and scraping my nails on the way back up.
“So which one of you fuckers wants to tell me what’s going on?” Mayhem asks. “Murder has been as helpful as a hole in a tree. In a surprise to absolutely no one.”
“I fucking debriefed you first thing this morning,” Murder snipes back.
“And you also said frogs have wings, but I don’t see how that was relevant.”
Murder turns the chair across from Ghost backwards and straddles it, while Mayhem takes the empty seat beside me, as far away from us as possible. He dumps out his paper bag of treats, half a dozen bagels skating across the table with a tub of berry cream cheese.
“Roman tried to steal my Lucy,” Ghost says surely. “And he’s after the master code.”
Mayhem slams his hands on the counter, glaring hard at me. “And you didn’t tell me any of this in the car?” he asks, stabbing a plastic knife into the tub of pink goo. “I thought we werebonding.”
I look at Ghost for approval and find him glaring at Mayhem.
“You gonna tell me she didn’t know she was being abducted?” Mayhem asks. “Three words, boss: Bull. Shit.”
I wanna tell him that’s two words, but Ghost isn’t acknowledging my request to talk. I reach over and take Mayhem’s perfectly prepped breakfast and place it in front of me, then tuck my mouth against Ghost’s shoulder and lean against his side.
He grins down at me and rewards me with a kiss on the forehead, squeezing my leg. He doesn’t seem to notice I snatched his brother’s food, but Mayhem is staring at me like he’d like to ram that plastic knife through my hand.
“Roman isn’t crass about it, we know this,” Ghost says. “I don’t appreciate your insinuation that she could have prevented it, Mayhem.”
Mayhem huffs through his nose, looking at Murder. “Did I say that?”
“Don’t put that strawberry shit on mine,” Murder says, then his eyes swing to me. “Lucy.”
