“If you’ve been tested, you shouldn’t have anything to worry about, but a general health check is worthwhile. We’ll take care of that soon,” Beau promises. “We have condoms, of course, and we’ve kept them in the best conditions we could, but they’re at the end of their shelf life. We have a few boxes left with a few more months on them, but the rest are recently expired. Better than nothing, but knowing these assholes, those few boxes aren’t going to last us real long. I’ll do a checkup for you soon, darlin’， but we might have to revisit this conversation when we run out of the good stuff.”
Revisit. As in, potentially decide not to use protection?
“Ah,” I squeak.
The thought of them going bare, of them filling me up and leaving me dripping and slippery with their cum, sends a flush of wild, unexpected heat through me. I duck my head into my wine again, hoping I hid my shiver in time. I’ve never done that before . . . but the idea is filthy. Erotic.
Shockingly appealing.
“That work for everyone?” he asks, and sounds of assent ripple around the table.
I nod as well.
“If that’s done”—Dom stands and picks up a small bag from the side of the room. He pulls out five playing cards—“it’s time to organize the roster, starting tonight. Ace to five, ace being first. You shuffle.”
The five thin cards are heavy in my hand when he passes them over. I shuffle them uncomfortably; I’ve never been one to play card games. Or games at all.
I only hesitate a moment before dealing them out, face down. My heart pounds, and my nerves roar back to life. “I— Okay.
You can, um, turn them over.”
They look at their cards, but not one of them has the grace to flip it where I can see it.
“Five,” Dom says carelessly.
“Two,” says Lucky, and Jasper gives him a look I can’t decipher.
Beau gives me a rueful look and says, “Four.”
My stomach clenches. The smirk on Jaykob’s face tells me all I need to know. He flicks the card on the table, and the ace of spades winks at me.
“Looks like we’ve got a date, sugar. Time to strip down.”
My breath hitches. I remember the way Jaykob grabbed me as he kissed me. Hypocritical bitch, he called me.
Of all of them, why does it have to be him?
As though he can read my thoughts, his mouth twists. “Or leave. Don’t bother me either way.”
“Perhaps you could give her a moment, Jaykob, rather than behaving like a beast. You might do well to recall some of our discussions about the benefits of civility.” Jasper’s tone is chilly.
Under my lashes, I can’t stop staring at Jaykob. He’s too big, far too big. Huge. And I hoped for gentle Lucky? Jaykob will snap me like a twig.
“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Can’t we let her choose? Just for the first night? Ease her in, you know?” Lucky asks Dom, frowning at Jaykob, whose face darkens with every word.
“Oh sure, all’s fair till it’s not you. Carnie cheat.”
Lucky stands up quickly, knocking his chair back.
“No favoritism. That’s the rule,” Dom says sharply, but he’s watching me.
It’s hard to breathe.
“Whatcha thinking, darlin’？” Beau asks me gently, ignoring the others.
My eyes latch on his, then dart back to Jaykob, who’s still glaring at Lucky. Jaykob flips his knife again, deliberately, all tattoos and scars and sneering anger.
“I—”
Tearing his eyes away from Lucky, Jaykob looks to me, taking in the white press of my fingertips on the table. Then he scowls and turns, stalking toward the door.
“Wait!” I call, my voice strangled, but he doesn’t stop.
Trembling, I push out of my seat and stumble after him.
“Eden, it’s okay—” Beau starts.
“No, it’s not,” I snap, then I follow Jaykob out, catching his arm just outside the kitchen.
It isn’t okay. I agreed to this. I spent the last week thinking over what Lucky said. I promised equality; I can’t just play it safe with Lucky and Beau. It won’t work for the others, and then I’ll be out.
And also, it really isn’t okay. Because just before he turned to leave, I could swear I saw a hint of self-conscious bitterness shadowing Jaykob’s eyes—and that is a feeling I know well. And maybe I’m projecting, but I can’t let him walk away from me like that, even if he has been a complete jerk to me.
As I catch his arm, he whirls around so fast I flinch back. He looms over me, pushing me into the wall. If I did see any vulnerability in his eyes, it’s gone now.
“Wait,” I repeat at barely a whisper.
“Takes a minute to get over the disappointment, huh?” His voice is gravel, rough and rude.
It sparks something defiant in me, something like that hot feeling when they all dismissed me.
“You really do have a chip on your shoulder, don’t you?” I ask, trying to match his tone.
He doesn’t say anything, but his scowl deepens.
“I—” I start, then clear my throat and try again. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He snorts. “That’s pretty damn clear, princess.”
Swallowing hard, I lift my hand to his chest—not to push him away, but just letting myself, and him, get used to my touch. I went horse riding once and they told me to keep my hand on the horse as I moved around it, so it wouldn’t startle. Maybe that will work here too.
After a moment, I slowly lift onto my toes and brush my lips across his, fully conscious that this is a man who can throw me over his shoulder without breaking a sweat. His full lips are hard and unyielding, and I press a second, gentle kiss to their firm crease, my pulse throbbing fearfully.
Before my heels have even dropped back to the ground, he’s spun again and is halfway toward the sliding doors that lead outside. Embarrassment is just starting to crash in on me when he looks over his shoulder.
“If you’re coming, move your ass.”
The mannered girl in me frowns at his language, but it doesn’t stop me from darting over and following him out into the darkness.
Chapter 12
Eden
SURVIVAL TIP #278
When manners fail,
go primal.
J aykob’s workshop is huge. A large jeep is parked in the far corner and machines of all shapes and sizes sit haphazardly throughout the room. Beams of wood and piles of metal crowd the space, and the walls are lined with every kind of tool imaginable. A small kitchen is just visible from where I stand. The room is only dimly lit, even with the light on.
I glance around, looking for a bed. He doesn’t wait for me, ducking under a hanging beam and making his way to the back of the workshop. I trail after him. There’s a door at the back of the workshop, only visible after I round the half-repaired washing machine. I eye it longingly, wishing I could press some kind of priority sticker to its front.
He opens the door, flicks on the light, and jerks his head for me to go inside.
The room is fairly small, almost entirely taken up by the large bed and a small bedside table. As soon as I step inside, he shuts the door behind us.
Turning, I open my mouth to ask him if he has any refreshments, but he presses me into the closed door. Thrusting his hand into my hair, he tugs my head back and claims my mouth in a rough, punishing kiss. His tongue tangles with mine, invading, demanding. My knees fall out from under me, but he shoves a thick thigh between my legs, pinning me to the door. His weight presses against my core.