hit me as I stood, and I gave a shaky laugh when I looked down at Lucas.
"That..." I shook my head with a groan, then licked my lips as I took in the sight of him sprawled out naked with his massive dick still half erect. "That was fucking incredible." I held a hand out to him. "Shower with me?"
A broad grin curved his lips, and he snatched my hand eagerly. "Hell yes," he enthused, basically leaping to his feet and tossing me over his shoulder.
I let out a small shriek of surprise but didn't protest even the slightest bit as he raced up the stairs to the bathroom. Screw it. We could search the house for clues after a few more rounds. After all, my Gumdrop had stamina.
9
Our search of Lucas's house, when we eventually got around to it, turned up a whole lot of nothing. Fucking nothing. Which wasn't really so shocking considering Lucas and his mom had only moved in there a couple of weeks before we moved her to Sunshine Estate.
As a last resort, we headed down to the secret basement level to see if his uncle had anything other than guns stashed down there. I led the way, heading down the secret stairs in the guest room closet, and flipped on the industrial lights as we stepped into the basement room. Then I jerked to a stop.
"Uh..." Lucas hovered behind me like a huge shadow. "Did you guys—"
"Nope," I replied, running my eyes around the very empty basement. "Not us."
I took a couple of steps forward, peering around and shaking my head. Every single wall, every single rack that had been stocked with weaponry was empty. Not a single bullet or blade was left—so far as I could tell.
"The Guild," Lucas muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Nice of them to tell us they were stopping by."
I grimaced. "Typical mercenary guild bullshit."
Lucas arched a brow at me. His full lips were puffy from kissing me—and other things—and it was all kinds of distracting. But god damn, that man could eat pussy like nobody's business.
"Have you had a lot of interaction with them?" His tone was curious, not accusing, and I shook my head in reply.
"Not really. But Zed briefly entertained the idea of working for them when they tried to recruit him. He even tried out a consult role, but after a couple of months told them he wasn't interested." I smiled at the memory, the warmth of amusement filling my gut as we headed back upstairs.
Lucas was naturally curious. "Why'd he do that? He seems like the perfect mercenary type."
I grinned wider. "Apparently he questioned why they'd recruited him and not me. He didn't like their answer and told the recruiter to go fuck a cactus."
Lucas followed me out of the house, his hand resting gently and comfortably on the small of my back as I activated the front door lock once more. The fact that the guild had cracked my code wasn’t a surprise at all. They were that dangerous, no locks would keep them out.
"Well shit, now I'm curious," he said with a laugh. "What did the recruiter say for him to respond like that?"
I snickered. "He said that they recruited and trained mercenaries. Or rather, that's their adopted term for assassins and spies. But he wanted highly skilled killers who could be controlled, not psychopaths or serial killers."
Lucas gaped at me in horror as he popped the Shelby door open and slid inside. "He called you a psychopath? To Zed?"
I nodded. "Sure did. It was luckily over the phone, or the Guild would have been looking for a new recruitment agent that day."
Lucas gave an easy laugh as he turned his cap backward again—groan—and started the car up. "Man, I'd love to have seen that interaction. Zed would have burst a blood vessel."
We drove for a few minutes in comfortable silence, the radio playing some 90s rock station that Zed always listened to, but I could tell Lucas had something on his mind.
"What's up?" I asked after some time. "I feel like you've got something to say."
He flicked a quick glance over at me and gave a small smile. "You're good at reading people."
I shrugged. "It comes in useful with my line of work. So?"
He drummed his finger against the steering wheel a couple of times, clearly thinking about his phrasing before speaking.
"You're good at reading people," he repeated, giving me a pointed look, "so why are you being so