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It’s not until I get to the doorway that leads to a seriously impressive kitchen that I register what—or who—they’re talking about.
“Can you at least tell me you’re regretting it,” JD says from somewhere deeper in the room.
“Regret what?” Reid asks, almost sounding bored as I round the corner and find him standing at the stove. Not a place I ever pictured the prince of Harrow Creek, if I’m being honest.
“Not letting her wrap her lips around your dick and suck you dr—”
My entire world falls from beneath me as I picture Alana on her knees for that sick fuck. Before I know what I’m doing, I’ve marched deeper into the room, my eyes fixed on them as I clear my throat, announcing my presence.
Reid doesn’t so much as flinch. It’s almost as if he knew I was there.
JD, on the other hand, his eyes widen and his spine straightens in shock.
“Hey, man. How are you feeling?” JD rambles in panic. “You want a beer? Dinner won’t be long. Reid’s an epic cook, did you know that?”
“No.” I growl. “I wasn’t aware he had any redeeming qualities,” I confess. “Water will be fine.”
“Oh, you’ve got so many things to learn about the goings on under this roof.”
“So it seems,” I muse, taking a cold bottle of water from JD as Reid continues with what he’s doing. He hasn’t even bothered to turn around and greet me. Jerk.
“Good bath?” JD asks, trying to make conversation. “I’m more of a shower guy myself. I like to be in and out, not just sit there festering in my own stench.”
“You don’t like to do it alone though, do you, J? Why don’t you tell Mav about how you prefer company and just how loud you make them scream.”
Thankfully, light footsteps thunder down the stairs before Alana barrels into the room red-faced and wide-eyed.
“Can you stop,” she begs.
“What?” Reid says, if he’s trying to sound innocent, he falls about a mile from the mark.
She lets out a pained sigh before looking up at me, silently begging me to ignore them.
If only it was that easy.
“What’s on the menu tonight, Big Man?” Alana asks, but the second her nickname for Reid rolls off her tongue, she stills.
All the air rushes from my lungs as I’m faced with the truth of just how close she’s become to these men.
Sensing my horror, Reid finally turns around. His eyes almost immediately lock with mine as a smug as fuck grin pulls at his lips.
He might not have let her suck his cock for whatever reason, but he’s in her head, and the motherfucker knows it.
“Mexican, Pet,” he says, finally shifting his gaze to her. He holds her eyes for a beat before letting them drop down her body. “Look at that, buy a girl her own clothes and she still chooses to wear mine. I’ll start thinking you miss smelling like me, Pet.”
“Ignore him,” Alana says, lacing her fingers through mine and attempting to drag me toward the couches that look out over the valley of Harrow Creek beyond. “If we’re having Mexican, I assume someone is making me margaritas,” she shoots over her shoulder.
“You got it, Dove. And if you’re lucky, I’ll let you lick the salt from my abs.”
A deep growl rumbles in my throat.
They’re baiting me, I know they are. And it’s fucking working.
The second I’m in front of the couch, Alana plants her hands on my chest and shoves until I’ve no choice but to fall back. Almost as quickly, she drops beside me and snuggles into my side.
“They’re only doing it because you’re reacting. Lock it down, yeah?”
“Easier said than done. You’re mine, Doll. I don’t think they understand that.”
