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I want more.
Renz sucks my earlobe into his mouth and tugs. I pant and drive my hips forward, grinding down on his hard cock. I can feel it straining against the confines of his jeans and my pussy drips in response. He pushes back, rubbing, thrusting, fucking me through our pants. My clit piercing hits just the right spot causing me to cry out.
What was I just thinking about?
“What do you want,Kitten?Can I have your sweet, sopping pussy? Are you going to let me have you?” His voice is nothing more than a needy, quiet rasp in my ear and I swear on everything that is holy, I could cum from just that sound alone.
But then, his words trickle in as does my resolve. “Are you in the mafia, Renz?”
He freezes. Every single muscle locks up and like a bucket of ice water has been dumped over his head, he drops me. Unceremoniously, no fucks to give, legit, drops me. If it hadn’t been for the bookcase that’s been practically up my ass for the last ten minutes, I would have fallen on my face.
Renz moves away from me, slowly, like one would back away from a grizzly bear in the wild. His eyes never meet mine, even as he mutters in a cold, detached voice, “Clean this shit up and get the fuck out of my house.”
Then, in a move that I have to admit he’s perfected; he turns around and walks out.
If I didn’t love books so much, I’d leave the mess on the floor for the prick to clean up himself but that hurts no one but the books. Bending down, I start to pick them up, dusting each one off as I go. It isn’t until the third book comes away damp that I realize I’m crying.
“What is wrong with me?” I snap into the silent room. The fireplace crackles in response which only worsens the aching loneliness inside of me. I don’t understand why, though. Why should I cry over him? Over any of them? They clearly don’t reciprocate my stupid feelings.
PLEASE DON'T GO-MIKE POSNER
Eli does,my brain supplies.Maybe even Isaac.
Sighing, I drop down onto the floor and lean against the shelf as I stack the remaining books in a small pile before setting them on one of the semi-empty lower shelves. He can organize them himself, right before he trips over a rug and falls into the fireplace.
“Plotting murder, Princess?”
I barely contain an eye roll as the second asshole strolls into the library. “If he dies, can I have his books?”
Zac chuckles but doesn’t respond as he comes to a stop in front of me. His hand appears in my line of sight a second later. When I don’t immediately accept the offer, he reaches down and plucks me off the ground. “Come with me.”
I don’t even get a chance to respond before he’s grabbing my hand and dragging me from my little slice of Heaven.No, not mine.The thought forms an ache in the pit of my stomach. If I never get to come back here, that means I’ll never get to explore the library again. Another tear drips down my face and I bat it away.
“Did he send you to escort me out? Was I not quick enough for his highness?” I snark as I attempt to yank my hand from Isaacs. He only squeezes mine harder, refusing to let go.
“He didn’t send me. We’re going on an errand.” He says this casually, without even a glance in my direction.
I dig my heels into the ground but only end up sliding across the shiny marble flooring. “Wait! Stop!” Isaac huffs a sound of annoyance and pauses in his aggressive march to the elevator. He quickly turns, finally granting me the decency of some eye contact, and arches a brow. “I haven’t even had coffee! Or had the opportunity to pee!” I growl, resisting the urge to twist his nipple in irritation.
His lip twitches as he murmurs, “Needy little thing, aren’t you?” The mocking tone has me saying fuck it as I reach out and twist the pierced flesh. Zac smacks my hand and glares at me as he rubs the ache away. “Go to the bathroom before I tie you up and leave you for Renz to torture.”
This time, the threat doesn’t affect my libido as it had last night. I don’t want to see the self-righteous dickhead and I definitely don’t want to be tied up anywhere near him. Zac points me in the direction of the restroom and I scamper away, ready for a moment’s reprieve from all the testosterone in this creepy mausoleum.
After quickly taking care of business, I make my way over to the sink and wash my hands. Looking up in the mirror, I’m shocked at what I see. I know for a fact that my makeup had been a hot mess last night after my panic attack in the kitchen and though Zac had helped me clean the blood off my body, I hadn’t had time to wash my face. Someone must have removed the smeared remnants of my makeup while I was asleep.
That’s as creepy as it is sweet. I wonder who did it? Probably Eli. I smile at the thought. He may be a little nuts and temperamental, but he is a sweet guy.
Digging around, I find toothpaste in one of the drawers so I settle for a finger/toothpaste combo and clean my teeth the best I can. I release my messy, frizzy braids and work my fingers through my hair in an attempt to tame the waves. Once I feel more awake and vaguely resemble a human being, I head out in search of Isaac, curious about whatever he has planned.
When I emerge from the long hallway he’d sent me down, I find him standing in the living room with his back to me as he texts. I take a moment to sneakily enjoy him from behind before he notices I’ve returned.
Isaac may be the smallest physically out of the bunch, but he’s just as handsome. Today he’s far more casual than I’ve seen any of the men, and I find it surprising. Out of the three of them, I never would have taken Zac for the hoodie and sweats type but even I’m woman enough to admit that the look works on him. Especially the grey sweatpants.
There is just something about a man in grey sweats that has me ready to drop to my knees and inspect what’s beneath them.
“If you’re done checking out my ass, we have places to be and we’re running behind schedule.” I cringe, but really, I’m not even embarrassed by being caught.
“Not my fault those pants show off everything you’re working with,” I purr as I join him. Zac chuckles and turns to face me. He thrusts out one of his hands, tossing me a black hoodie. I smile at his kindness and quickly tug it on over my sports bra, barely resisting the need to inhale the masculine scent. It’s strong and momentarily makes me wonder if he doused it in cologne before giving it to me.It smells like him.“Thank you,” I murmur.
