“Eden—” I try again, amusement bubbling.
She frowns but doesn’t seem to hear me. “I’m not even sure how we do this without testing available. Do you still take a swab? No, that would be pointless, I suppose. So I guess you must just ask me questions, and—”
“Eden!” I break in, voice edged hard in stern command. “Enough.”
At my tone, she pulls back, her mouth snapping shut, and her hands clutching at her skirt. Her eyes darken with awareness, and spots of ardent color appear on her cheeks.
As much as I like her sweet, trusting looks, I also like this . . . the fearful way she trembles, caught in that nectarous place between arousal and alarm.
Hiding a smirk, I lay my arm along the back of the couch behind her. If she thinks I’m all apple pie and slow talk, she’s in for the shock of her life.
“You want me to give you a checkup, is that what you’re askin’？” I drawl.
She stares at me wordlessly, her breaths shallow. Her pink tongue darts out to swipe at her lower lip, and the wet trail it leaves is nothing short of profane.
“I— Maybe?” Her voice is gorgeous, husky. Ripe with desire.
“That’s very considerate of you,” I tell her, and start playing with the loose strands of her hair. Goosebumps lift the small hairs on her arms. “Gettin’ yourself prepared so we can all spread you out and fill you up with our cum.”
Eden’s hand flies to her throat, and her pulse pounds like frantic wings against the delicate skin. “Beau . . .”
My cock thickens, and I part my legs to make room, drawing her eyes. They press shut, then flutter open again, her pupils blown as she takes me in.
“You want me to do it here?” I ask thickly. “Open you up and see where you’re all pink and pretty? Right here, where anyone could walk in?”
My finger trails down the line of her throat, then along her collarbone, following the low collar of her dress. My fingertip grazes the tops of her breasts, and she trembles.
“Does it make you wet? Thinking about me spilling inside that sweet pussy of yours? You want me to take you bare?” I run my other hand up the inside of her thigh, and her legs part so eagerly that I need to adjust myself. “Do you want me to fill you up? Or do you want me to paint those pretty breasts?”
Eden’s breath is snared by a moan as I taste her lips with the barest brush of my tongue. “I’m askin’ as your doctor, pet.”
And as if a whirlwind had blown through the room, I feel her arousal snuff out. She stiffens under me, but I’m already pulling back, searching her face.
“What’s the matter?” I ask gently. “Talk to me, darlin’。”
She closes her legs, eyes averted, and slowly pulls the fallen strap of her dress back over her shoulder, not speaking.
Finally, she asks, “What do you see me as, Beau?”
“See you as? What do you mean?” I reach out to touch her hand, and she pulls back, out of reach.
My stomach drops as I realize I’ve hit her somewhere soft.
Her eyes meet mine, soft and serious. “What is my role here?”
I hesitate a moment too long, trying to work out what answer she’s wanting here. “You’re here for us. So we can keep you safe.”
I know I got it wrong when her shoulders square.
“Where were you and Dom the other day? What happened during your ‘scuffle’？” She purses her lips. “What aren’t you telling me?”
I grimace, shifting. “Where’s this coming from? You don’t need to worry about any of that, pet.”
Eden’s hands clench around her skirt, her lip trembling . . . but it still takes me a second to recognize it for what it is.
Anger.
She takes a deep breath, then smooths her dress back out deliberately.
“I’m not your pet, Beau,” she says. “I am your equal, despite what you all seem to think. I’m more than just your plaything. I can choose to leave at any time if this isn’t working for me.” Her chin lifts with quiet pride. “I’m here for myself—not for you.”
“I don’t want a mouse for a pet.”
Dom really should take five minutes to speak with her. Eden is no mouse.
She’s a force to behold.
And his stupid, patronizing plan is going to drive her away from us.
“Eden, if any of us have made you feel . . . if I’ve made you feel—”
A door slams loud enough to echo through the house, cutting me off and shattering the serious moment.
“LUCKY,” Dom roars.
All color drains from Eden’s face, leaving her white to her lips.
Ah, shoot, now that’s a shame. I give her a regretful look.
Maybe Lucky really will get her killed.
Chapter 20
Eden
SURVIVAL TIP #245
Find the biggest predator you can.
Then hide behind them.
“O h, shit,” I swear. All thoughts of their silly rules, and my place here, and being kept like a stray dog vanish in a crash of terror.
Lucky peeks his head from the kitchen just as Dom rounds the top corridor, livid. In seconds, he’s rushed down the stairs and is stalking for the kitchen.
I should be moving. I shouldn’t be here. But my head feels light. Floaty.
Am I going to faint?
I might faint.
The rest of Lucky pops through the door, with a huge, shit-eating grin on his face.
Dom grabs the front of his shirt, shoves the smaller man against the wall, and crowds him with every broad-shouldered inch he has. “Give it back now, Lucky, and I won’t take your head off. We had a deal.”
I lift half out of my seat, debating whether I should rush in and stop Dom again or just let Lucky get the ass kicking he probably deserves. My hands twist into a white-knuckled knot in front of me.
Beau looks over at the scene, leaning back in his chair to watch, seemingly entertained. Lucky is still grinning, that damnable dimple of his winking like a bad joke. I dart a look at Beau, like he might help, and he glances back, giving me a curious once-over. I can practically see him putting the pieces together.
Lucky clears his throat. “Technically the deal was that I couldn’t take it from your room.”
That catches my attention. A low, sick moan escapes me, and Beau’s brows shoot up in surprise. I need to go.
Now.
Dom freezes, then his head turns until he looks at me. Like something out of a horror movie, I wonder if it will keep spinning.
“You stole the bazooka from my room?”
I back up a step, releasing a gust of nervous air. “I— Well, I—”
Beau rubs a hand over his lips, not quite able to stop his stunned amusement from showing.
My eyes shoot back to Dom as his expression darkens. He releases Lucky and steps toward me, his face set in narrow-eyed disbelief. Dangerous intent lines his muscles.
“You went into my room.” Step. “Without permission.” Step. “Rifled through my closet.” Step. “And stole from me?”
Panic. PANIC. Damn it, why can’t I move? I’m frozen still; someone’s dipped me in ice.
“I— It was a bet. I had to. I lost, and I had to do a dare, and I didn’t have a choice, and I—”
Dom’s brows lower. It isn’t a pleasant expression. “Interesting that you’re more afraid of Lucky.” Step. “Than me.”