I look down, gripping his hair, ready to tear him off me, when he looks up. Those blue eyes drown me. My dick is wet where it meets his lips, and his mouth is like a furnace. Instead of ripping him away, I fuck into him like a punishment, staring at him as he takes me. He rubs his tongue against me expertly, ravenously. Greedy, greedy boy.
How dare he feel this good?
How dare he wreck and ruin every promise I ever made?
His throat closes around the tip of my dick as he swallows, and that ends me. My balls tighten, and, pressing deep into him, I unload every filthy fantasy and broken promise right into that perfect mouth. I come hard, and guiltily, and finish panting in shame.
I press a hand over my eyes, as if that can block out the sight of my betrayal as I come down. My thundering heart starts to slow, and my thoughts begin to filter through again. I stumble back, pulling out from between Lucien’s lips and grab at my rumpled slacks, turning and tugging them back up.
What have I done?
“Jasper?”
I just barely repress a flinch at Lucien’s tentative voice. I should go to him now, be a good dom. I should soothe him, somehow, and say . . . say what? He got what he wanted. What he thought he wanted. I was the one in control here. I have the power. I was the one who should have stopped this.
I can’t look at him. I can’t stand—I think he might have sucked my knees and my backbone out of my cock. Sitting heavily in my chair, I stare up at the screens, wanting to cry for the first time since I realized my wife was dead.
“Jasper, I know that got a little . . . out of hand, but we should talk. This is— It’s a good thing.”
That silly bird with the yellow feathers above its beak flies into the screen again and lands on the branch.
Talk? For once in my life, I don’t think I have anything to say. I’ve finally done the unforgivable. Years of brushing close to it, toying with disaster. Years of resistance, and I still failed him.
I watch the bird hop on the branch, absently wondering again why it bothers me. Then I blink, lean forward. That bird isn’t on yesterday’s reel. It’s showing on the camera for today, for now. The exact same bird, with the exact same feathers . . .
A different kind of dread soaks my bones.
“It’s looped.”
“What—”
“Not now, Lucien. Look at this.”
I rewind the feed from yesterday to the time I had before and set the feed from today back a few seconds. The images are mirrored on the adjacent screens. When I think I have the times about right, I hit play. The exact same bird swoops in at the same angle, headed for the same tree, and perches in the same place. Same time. Same image. My stomach falls, but I also feel a breathless rush of relief.
This is it. This is what I’ve been missing.
“It’s looped,” Lucien says, repeating me. “Jasper, this means—”
“That we have no visuals. These cameras are useless.”
He pulls at his topknot of blond hair, the one I mussed beyond repair when I fucked his face, and his eyes shift as he thinks.
“How could they do that?”
I shake my head, some of my soul-clenching nausea receding as I focus on the problem. Not much, but some. “If they have twenty-four hours of footage, and someone with a bit of know-how, and they knew where the cameras were, it wouldn’t be too hard to set it up on an automatic loop like this. We’ve been hacked.”
“Jasper, if we can’t see them, they could be anywhere. They wouldn’t even have to avoid the direct trails,” Lucien says, growing serious and tense as the implications hit. “There could have been dozens of them waiting for Beau and Dom. Jayk’s right. Eden could be in danger. The guys could be. We have to—”
“Except that the hunters don’t want them—at least not as a priority,” I interrupt, everything sliding into place in one neat, terrifying picture. “It was a lure, to break up our forces, leave us vulnerable. Eden might be a draw, but they couldn’t have known she would go after them. What they really want is—”
“Bristlebrook,” Lucien breathes, paling. “They’re coming here, while the others are gone.”
If they know about the cameras, they know about this base. Electricity, water, animals, gardens, weapons—Bristlebrook is a motherlode.
I glance at the screen of the camera closest to us, right outside the house. One of the few I’m sure couldn’t have been affected.
It’s just now dark, and the shadows are lengthening across the clearing. Dread fills me.
“And the best time to attack would be”—on screen, a lick of fire creeps up the side of Jaykob’s barn—“right now.”
Chapter 33
Eden
SURVIVAL TIP #5
The people you love dearest will most likely die, and it will hit you like a bullet to the chest.
Brace for impact.
T he acrid smell of burning wood is the first thing that tells me we’re too late. The raging amber light filtering through the leaves and the blistering sound of gunshots confirm it. Shouts and cries of pain ricochet off the trees, making it impossible to pinpoint where they’re coming from.
We kept to a steady jog for hours, not slowing or stopping once despite the savage aches and pains from our earlier run-in.
But while Beau hovered around me the entire way, Dom pushed us to move, radiating a tight, edgy determination that told me with frightening clarity how worried he was. That, more than anything, kept me on my feet.
But our furious flight wasn’t enough. We realized too late.
They’re already here.
Dom ducked away a few minutes ago to get a better look, and I take the opportunity to suck in a few labored breaths while Beau stands watch. There are lines of tension around his eyes and bracketing his mouth.
Dom pops out of the trees like a phantom, and I only barely strangle my scream.
“Lucky and Jasper are pinned behind Jayk’s truck. The barn’s an inferno at this point, and they’re too close.”
“Any eyes on Jaykob?”
Dom jerks his chin in a negative, and my breath hitches. Jayk.
Beau’s hand finds mine and squeezes, but he keeps his eyes on Dom, who only spares me a tense glance.
“What about the shed? Can we get to the weapons?”
“It’s right in the line of fire. No chance,” Dom replies. He checks his gun. “I’ll take the rear from the trees—you get to Bristlebrook. Cover the tree line and keep them off our guys’ asses.”
Beau shakes his head. “I’ll take the rear. I can do more good on the ground if the others need a medic.”
Dom hesitates, then nods, jaw tight. “Fine. Keep your comms open.”
Reading between the lines, I’m guessing the rear is going to be more dangerous. I bite my lip against saying something silly —like begging them to stay safe.
Smoke is creeping through the forest now and it burns my nose. I can’t see the blaze from where we are, but it has to be big to cause this much thick, filthy air. An inferno, Dom said.
My stomach sickens.
I try to zero in on the shouting, desperate for any reassurance that my guys are safe, but I can’t make out individual voices no matter how hard I strain. Jasper and Lucky are pinned? What does that even mean? Are they hurt? And where is Jayk?