Deviant (Boys of Winter #3) - Sheridan Anne Page 0,118
I can guarantee that whatever it is, it’s not there.
“You didn’t need to do shit, ya jealous fuck,” King says, his tone flat, but the hidden smile against my neck evidence enough that he’s amused by the whole situation. “Your thoughts are screaming loud enough, and no, I wouldn’t fancy you ramming that fucking cucumber up my ass, but if you ask nicely, our girl might enjoy it.”
Carver slams the fridge door and the way he groans tells me that he had in fact thought about ramming King with the cucumber, which has a laugh bubbling up my throat. I glance up and meet Carver’s stare and the amusement on my face has the hostility and jealousy quickly fading out of his.
It’s been a week since he railed me in my father’s office, and while it’s been incredible having him on board, there's been a steep learning curve involved. He’s not as open to sharing as the others, but he’s still down to try. We haven’t had a chance to really share together and I don’t doubt that when we do, he’ll see the brighter side of things. He’s definitely getting used to it though, but for now, we just have to put up with these sudden jealous outbursts that always have him begging for forgiveness with his tail tucked between his legs—or at least, his cock buried between mine. Both are a win-win situation for me.
Having Carver on board and watching as he got used to our new little dynamic was the only thing that has kept me sane over the past few days. Grayson and Cruz went out of town a few days ago, chasing a lead on one of the victims from the ledger, and while I love what they’re doing and truly hope that they find what they’re looking for, I miss them, and I can’t wait for them to be home. Not only to screw me until I can’t breathe, but because having Carver and King on guard duty twenty-four seven is putting us all on edge.
Not one of us have said it out loud, but we’re all petrified that we won’t be ready when Paris comes back. We haven’t had any more spontaneous visits from her and we sure as fuck haven’t found out a damn thing about this long-lost child of hers. I feel like we’ve been getting nowhere. She’s like a ghost, just showing up when she’s ready to say boo. This constant state of unknown has made my anxiety skyrocket, and I don’t like it.
It’s like spinning the handle on a Jack In The Box, only my version is creepy as hell and when it pops up, it’s a psychotic, deranged killer, not just a weird little puppet. I don’t know when she’s going to appear next and that scares me, especially now that I know she’s willing to use the boys to get to me. I can handle me getting hurt, but them? No. They’re off limits, and if she ever comes for them again, I’m going to tear her apart with my teeth like a rabid dog. Then she’ll see who the real bitch around here is. Spoiler alert—it’s me.
Carver grabs a frying pan from the cupboard and walks over to the stove beside us. He places it down and as he sets the temperature, my phone on the counter starts ringing. All three of us glance down beside my thigh to find Ember’s name flashing on the screen.
“Ugh,” I groan, before dismissing the call with a quick swipe of my finger.
“Trouble in paradise?” King questions, pulling back just a little to meet my gaze.
I pause, only now just realizing what I’ve done. Since first realizing that Ember was lying to me, I haven’t told the boys about it. Even though I’m not ready to face the music, dismissing her call like that makes it pretty damn obvious that something is wrong.
“Oh, umm … it’s nothing,” I tell them, hating the white lie, but knowing that if I told them what I knew, they’d be throwing me in the Escalade and not stopping until we were parked outside Ember’s home, demanding answers. And damn it, the extremes they would go through to get the answers isn’t pretty. I’m not sure if I’m willing to put her through that. I mean, what if I’m wrong? What if I’m remembering it differently or if I just misunderstood what she said? Damn it. “It’s just girl stuff.”