Page 17

The table is quiet except for the occasional clink of silverware and the buzz of the TV in the living room.

Coach is focused on his pizza, going on about strategy for the game, but I can’t think straight.

Not with her sitting there, two seats down, refusing to look at me.

Her face is still red. Probably from having her first orgasm.

I grin to myself, already planning all the shit I’m going to do to her.

Fuck, I shouldn’t have ripped her panties. I should’ve slid them off her slow, let her beg for it. Now they’re in my pocket, burning a hole through the fabric, and I can’t stop thinking about them or her. Is she wearing anything under that dress now?

“So, Eli,” Coach says, snapping me out of my thoughts. “What’s your plan for Saturday? You’ve been watching the tapes, right?”

I nod, sitting back in my chair like I’m completely unaffected. “Yeah, I’ve been going over them. The defensive line’s weak on the left. I was thinking we could exploit that with—”

Her fork clatters against her plate, and both of us look over at her. Princess. She’s flustered. When her eyes glance at me, I already know she’s mine.

“Sorry,” she mutters as she reaches for her fork.

I smirk. She likes me.

“As I was saying,” I continue, glancing back at Coach, “if we focus on the left, we could get an early lead.”

Coach nods, chewing thoughtfully. “Good eye, Grayson. I like that. You’ve got instincts. I’m happy to have you on the team, son.”

“Appreciate it,” I say, glancing at her again. She’s nibbling on the crust of her pizza, staring at her plate and then stills. She looks up at me, and I grin at her dad who is already calling me son. I’m fucking loving this. “It’s a big opportunity, Coach. I’m gonna give it my all.”

“Good.” Coach grins, pointing a finger at me. “I expect big things from you.”

I nod, but my focus drifts back to her. She’s pretending not to notice me, but she’s still red as she reaches for her glass of water. Cute.

“You okay over there?” I ask, my voice low.

Her eyes snap to mine, wide, her cheeks flushing deeper. “Yeah,” she says, her voice tight.

“Okay,” I say, smirking as I reach for another slice of pizza. “Wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable that I’m here or anything.”

Her gaze sharpens, but she doesn’t respond, just takes a long sip of her water.

“She’s fine. I bring some of the team home to talk strategy. She’s used to it,” Coach says as he winks at her. “We’ll go over the plays again tomorrow. I want to make sure everyone’s on the same page.”

“Sounds good,” I say, leaning back in my chair.

Sienna clears her throat. “I’m gonna head to my room,” she says, standing abruptly.

Coach waves her off without looking up. “Sure thing, kiddo.”

I watch her go, the sway of her hips in that little dress almost too much to handle. She disappears up the stairs, and I take a deep breath, trying to focus on anything other than the fact that she’s probably not wearing anything under that dress.

“Thanks for dinner, Coach,” I say, standing and stretching. “I should probably head out.”

Coach nods, getting up to walk me to the door. “Thanks for stopping by, Grayson. We’re glad to have you on the team.”

“Means a lot,” I say, shaking his hand. As he turns his back to me to pick something up from the ground, my eyes land on the spare key hanging on the hook by the doorframe.

For emergencies, it reads.

I snag it, slipping it into my pocket as I step outside. “See you at practice, Coach.”

“Drive safe,” he calls after me.

I climb into my car, shutting the door with a heavy exhale. The scent of her clings to me, sweet and tempting, and I’m hard as a fucking rock.

I make it two blocks before I pull over.

I reach into my pocket and pull out her panties. The pink lace is soft against my fingers, and I bring it to my nose, inhaling deeply. Her scent floods my senses, and I groan, my cock twitching in my jeans.

I fumble with the button and zipper, yanking my pants and boxers down just enough to free myself. The panties wrap around me perfectly, soft and warm, and I can’t stop the guttural sound that escapes me.

All I can think about is her flushed cheeks, the way she gasped my name, the way her body clenched around my fingers. The way she looked at me like she wanted to kill me and kiss me at the same time.

My hand moves faster, the lace sliding over my dick, and I bite back a groan. My head falls back against the seat, and my free hand grips the steering wheel for support.

“Fuck, Sienna,” I growl, my hips bucking into my hand.

The idea of her sprawled on her bed, her green eyes hazy with pleasure, is burned into my brain. I want her. All of her. Her mouth, her cunt, her ass, everything.

The release hits me hard, my body jerking as I spill onto my stomach. My breaths come in short, ragged bursts, and for a moment, all I can do is sit there, the panties still wrapped around me, my head spinning.

When I finally come down, I grab a napkin from the glove compartment, cleaning myself up as best as I can. The panties go back into my pocket, my fingers brushing over the soft fabric like a lifeline.

I drive home in silence, my mind replaying every moment of tonight. Her flushed cheeks. Her breathless gasps. The way she orgasmed so quickly.

The Brotherhood meeting is tomorrow, and I know exactly what I’m bringing.

The panties.

Proof.

Proof that Coach’s daughter is mine, whether she agrees with it or not.

But I’m done with them yet.

I need to hoard them for myself like the selfish bastard I am.

Sienna Jacobs is the best distraction I could’ve asked for since moving here.

The basement smells like beer, sweat, and a little desperation. The dim lighting casts shadows everywhere, and the masks the older members wear make them look like something out of a bad slasher flick.

Red Mask stands at the head of the room, his voice sharp and commanding. “Proof. Let’s see it.”

Logan steps up first, a cocky grin plastered on his face. “Got something real good for you guys.” He pulls out his phone, flipping through pictures until he finds what he’s looking for. “Two of ‘em. Same night.”

He holds the screen up, showing a photo of him in bed, arms around two girls. Both blondes, both naked, their hair a mess, and their faces half-hidden in pillows. They look wrecked.

Red Mask takes the phone, inspects it for a second, and nods. “Impressive. Very thorough.”

Logan smirks, crossing his arms. “Told you I don’t mess around.”

Next up is Finn. He looks less cocky but still sure of himself. “Didn’t do pictures, but…” He digs into his bag, pulling out a black lace bra. It’s tiny, practically scraps of fabric, and the way he holds it up makes a few of the older guys whistle. “She left it at my place. Thought it’d do.”

Red Mask tilts his head, then takes the bra, inspecting it like it’s some rare artifact. “Not bad, Finn. Not bad at all.”

My turn. My hand dips into my pocket, pulling out the pink lace panties I’ve been carrying around like a goddamn trophy. They’re soft in my hand, the memory of ripping them off her still fresh in my mind.

I step forward, holding them out. “Here. Proof enough?”

Red Mask takes them. He doesn’t say anything for a second, just stares at the fabric, then looks back at me. “Interesting choice, Grayson. You ripped these off her?”

“Yeah.” My voice is steady, but my body’s wired. I don’t like him holding them, even if this is part of the ritual.

He chuckles, low and deep, then tosses the panties to Black Mask. “Good work, recruits. You’ve done well.”

Black Mask steps forward, clapping his hands together. “Welcome to the initiation process.”

Red Mask pulls out a box and lifts the lid, revealing three red masks.

“These are yours now,” he says, holding them up one by one. “Don’t disgrace us by being fools. Wear them with pride. And if you do your part then you’ll end up with a black mask.”

Logan grabs his mask first, grinning like a kid on Christmas. Finn takes his next, inspecting it like he’s looking for flaws. I grab mine last, running my fingers over the smooth surface. It’s heavier than I expected, solid and cold.

“Congratulations,” Red Mask says, his voice booming. “Now, go celebrate. There’s a party in your honor starting in less than two hours. Plenty of drinks, plenty of company.”

“Wait,” I say, stepping forward. “I want the underwear.”

Black Mask tilts his head, almost amused. “They’re collateral. Proof of your commitment.”

I clench my jaw, glaring at him. Caleb in his black mask. I don’t argue with him. Not here. Not now.

The party starts slow, just the recruits and a handful of the Reapers hanging out in the basement, passing around bottles of whiskey and beer. But within half an hour, it’s chaos.

The doors open, and girls flood in, all wearing tiny masks that barely cover anything. Most of them are dressed to kill. Tight dresses, sky-high heels, and looks that scream trouble.

Logan’s already got two of them hanging off his arms, laughing at something he said. Finn’s got a beer in one hand and a brunette pressing herself against his side.

I lean against the wall, nursing a drink and trying to stay out of the spotlight.

“Hey,” a voice says, pulling my attention.

I look up to see a blonde in a tiny silver dress and a feathered mask. She’s smiling, her lips painted a deep red.

“You’re new, right?” she asks, stepping closer. “Not from around here?”

“Something like that,” I say, taking a sip of my drink.

She giggles, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. “I’ve always wanted to fuck a Reaper.”

Her hand brushes against my arm, her nails dragging lightly over my skin.

I smirk, but before I can answer, Red Mask climbs onto a table, clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright, listen up!” he shouts, his voice cutting through the noise. “I’ve got a fun idea.”

The room quiets down, all eyes on him.

“How about a hunt?” he says, grinning behind his mask.

The crowd erupts in cheers and whistles.

“What’s a hunt?” I ask Logan, who’s standing nearby with a drink in his hand.

He grins, leaning in. “Ladies… want to be chased and claimed by a Reaper?”

Black Mask holds up a hand, silencing the crowd. “Alright, if you’re interested, step outside to the backyard. Rules are simple: stay within the marked boundaries, and no hiding in the house. Once you’re caught, you’re claimed. Understood?”

The girls cheer, some of them already heading for the back door.

I’m not sure what to think. Part of me is intrigued, but another part of me is on edge.

I’m weighing my options when the girl I need to catch walks past me.

Sienna.

I watch her hips sway for a moment, but what captures my full attention is her choice in mask. Black bunny ears. My dick twitches at the sight. The bunny came out to play.

I’d know her anywhere. Blindfolded, in a crowd, in the dark — it doesn’t matter. She’s burned into my fucking brain.

“What the fuck,” I mutter, watching her disappear into the crowd of eager girls heading outside.

My first instinct is to follow her, grab her arm, and demand to know what the hell she’s doing here. But I stay rooted to the spot, my grip tightening around my drink.

The thought of anyone else getting to her, touching her, or claiming her sends a surge of heat through me, like gasoline thrown on a fire.

“Fuck this,” I mutter, setting my drink down and heading for the back door.

The hunt is on, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting anyone else get to her.