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Chapter Fourteen

Jolie

Social media can be a dangerous place. After spiralling down the rabbit hole, I discovered painted nails are trending. Problem with that is, after sitting here for the last half an hour, I discover I can’t paint my own nails for shit, and I don’t have any nail polish remover.

Stomping down the stairs and into the kitchen, I mumble to myself about the bullshit trends and the fact that I’m horny as shit. Not that the two are related, but they’re the two things pissing me off right now. On top of that, I’m bored out of my mind, which is how I ended up down the damn viral trend hole.

As I’m searching for something that will remove the smudged polish, I feel eyes searing into my back.

“If you’re going to stare at me, the least you can do is help me search.”

“The view from here is good,” Creed says from somewhere behind me. “What are you frantically searching for anyway?”

“Nail polish remover.”

“Kai’s room. Come on, I’ll show you.” He stands from the chair he was perched on and moves out of the kitchen.

Creed takes us up a set of stairs that leads to their side of the house; I’ve been on Laughn’s side numerous times, but never Creed’s. The hallway is darker than I expected, yet I can still see that the carpet is blood red, and right at the end is a full-sized throne. My brows hit my hairline and I shake my head as I spot Olly there, curled up and taking a nap.

Creed opens the first door on our right and we walk into Kai’s room. It’s just as I pictured; dirty clothes are piled in the room’s corner and there’s a large unmade queen-size bed.

Creed makes his way into the en suite, and I follow him inside. Kai’s en suite is basic compared to the others in this damn mansion, just a simple set-up of a shower, toilet, and vanity.

“Sit,” Creed demands, pointing at the toilet.

Not wanting to be told what to do, I jump up onto the vanity bench. His eyes roll as he steps in front of me. He pours some remover on a makeup pad, then takes my hand and starts to scrub off the clumped-up nail polish.

I watch as he lifts one nail at a time and makes sure every scrap of colour is gone. The concentration on his face makes him look almost peaceful. His tongue peeks out from between his lips as he toys with the ring in the corner of his mouth, and my eyes follow intently, wanting to lick it myself. I rest my right hand on his arm, and he looks up at me. If I didn’t know anything about Creed, I would say he has the face of an angel. Can someone have such a thing as a perfect face?

He clears his throat and sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, biting the corner between his teeth before releasing it. “Did you want me to paint them?”

I nod, not able to spit out any words. It’s to the point I don’t trust myself not to beg and pant for him to have his way with me. Until now, I was doing so well keeping my libido in check, but it’s come back with a vengeance. It’s outrageous how high my sex drive is. My last boyfriend used to complain that we had too much sex. Is it normal for a girl to think about sex multiple times a day? It’s one of the reasons I never wanted a serious boyfriend, along with a huge list of others.

Creed rummages around in Kai’s drawers and pulls out a blood-red polish. “Perfect,” he mutters, holding it up in the light. I don’t want to know or even ask why Kai has red nail polish—I’ve seen him wear black but never red. After a quick shake of the bottle and with a steady hand, Creed begins to paint each nail to perfection.

“Do you have any plans today?” he asks, focusing on the nail he is currently painting.

“No, everyone skipped out, so I was planning on watching a movie. The boredom is real when I’m left to my own devices. Between school and training, I’ve been wiped out. Where did everyone go?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. I had a delivery in the morgue that I had to take care of. When I came back upstairs, it was only you here and a note that said, ‘Watch Jolie. We’ll be back.’”

“I don’t need a babysitter, you know.”

Creed laughs and looks up at me. “I know you’ve been told this before, but it’s not babysitting. It’s common practise for one team member to stay with their female, at all times. And make no mistake, you’re ours.”

The weird thing is, as much as I have tried to deny it, they’re mine as much as I am theirs.

“I can see it in your eyes, Tenshi. You’ve laid claim, even if you don’t want to admit it. You just need to give in—we all have. Well, maybe everyone except Brennan. He still seems to be avoiding you after you jumped his bones.” He smiles as he says it, knowing he’s triggered me.

“I didn’t jump his anything.” My mutter holds conviction. “Just did what none of you had managed to do.”

“No offence, but Brennan isn’t my type.”

“Is Chester your type?”

He pauses and looks back up at me. “I wouldn’t say he is my preferred type.”

“But you have sex with him.”

“You mean we fuck. There’s nothing nice or sweet about what we do.”

“I just didn’t picture either of you as the type.”

“As what type?” he asks as his brows furrow.

“The type to fuck other men.”

“We don’t fuck other men. Only each other, and only after a tattoo.”

“Okay, but what I really want to know is who’s the top?”

Creed places the brush back into the polish, screws the cap on and sits it down on the vanity. He leans into me, and as he does, I move back until I’m firmly pressed against the mirror. His mouth gets closer to me, lips feathering along mine.

“Wouldn’t you like to know...” he murmurs, then pulls back, making every last nerve ending tingle with awareness. “Do you know what I like to do when I’m horny as fuck?”

“What?” I rasp.

“I like to cut open dead bodies. Want to help?”

I almost ask if he wants to fuck—we’re both grown adults—but something holds me back. I feel like now that I know who I am, that I was created for this, maybe I should sit down and lay it all on the table for them. We need to figure out how this is going to work because I refuse to feel guilty for who I am or what I like. I know they’re all open to it. Except maybe Brennan—he still seems a little hung up on who I was in the past.

Creed checks to make sure my nails are dry, then wraps his large hands around my waist and lifts me off the vanity, placing my feet firmly on the floor.

“Yes, let’s go cut some human flesh.” I clap excitedly.

As we walk out of the en suite, Creed asks me if the outfit I’m wearing has any sentimental value. I’m not sure how a pair of old sweats and a baggy shirt could mean anything to anyone. Shaking my head, after assessing my outfit, I realise I look like a hot mess tonight, but I wasn’t expecting to go anywhere. I was also under the impression that no one else was home.

Following Creed through the massive house, we eventually reach the steps and descend to the morgue. I shiver when we enter, as it’s a little chilly in here, but I suppose it needs to be when you’re working with dead bodies. He’s lucky though, because he wouldn’t notice since he doesn’t feel the cold, and the other guy is dead.

The body is already lying on the tarp-covered table with a sheet pulled across it. Creed turns on the overhead light and manoeuvres it directly above the dead man. He pulls the sheet back, folding it down to the corpse’s waist. If I didn’t already know he was dead, I would think the man just looks like he’s sleeping. Well, minus the bullet hole in his forehead.

“This guy just needs to be cremated, but I thought you might want to practise on him.”

“Hell yes!” I squeal, making Creed laugh. He helps me get into an apron and gives me a pair of gloves. Once we’re ready, I step up to the dead body and Creed moves in behind me.

“I usually start with the skull, because there’s nothing better than sawing a person’s head open and removing their brain. But, since this is your first time, we’ll start you off slow with the Y incision.”

He hands me a scalpel from the tray next to the metal table. His hand comes down on top of mine, guiding me where to go. Starting at the man’s left shoulder, we press down a lot harder than I expected and I watch as the skin slices open easily, like a hot knife through butter. I gag at the sight, but he continues down to the man’s sternum and then lifts my hand. My mind drifts to the way Creed feels pressed against my skin and the deep sound of his voice as he explains what he’s doing.

We repeat the first step on the other side and down to where the ends meet. He angles our hands slightly, then slices right down the middle until reaching the top of the pubic bone. Once the incision is done, he lets go of my hand and takes the scalpel, placing it back on the tray. I turn in his arms and forget about the dead body.

“Creed,” I pant, my voice breathy. “We need to go upstairs.”

Recognition hits, his pupils dilating until his beautiful obsidian colour is nowhere to be found. He removes his gloves, tossing them over his shoulder, and I do the same. Pressing in closer to me, his hands come to my face, and he pulls me to his lips. Once his tongue enters my mouth, there’s a fevered rush to remove our clothes. My nipples harden in the cold air, and they throb painfully, wanting some attention. His lips leave mine with a groan as he steps back.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs once I’m standing naked before him.

I could say the same; Creed naked is a work of art.

His gaze darts around me, then he stalks over to the table, determination etched on his face. In one swift movement, he tips the dead man and tarp to the floor, and he splats down face first. The thud of the body landing echoes around the enclosed space, and my mouth falls open, but Creed just laughs. “He’s lucky he even gets a cremation. The man was a traitor to the organisation.”

I nod, captivated, as he stalks back over to me, his hands coming to my waist, and he lifts me with ease. I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his torso as he walks us backwards, then he plants my ass on the freezing cold table. My body trembles as his hand pushes against my breasts, forcing me to lie back, my back slightly arching to avoid the ice-cold bench beneath me.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to have another body on this table again without picturing you laid before me.”

Creed moves around the table until he’s near my feet and wraps his hands around my ankles. Pulling my body down closer to his, until my butt is hanging off, he drops to his knees and tosses my legs over his shoulders. He doesn’t waste time with teasing and dives right in, wrapping his lips around my clit. I cry out as he slips a finger into my pussy and sucks hard on my throbbing bundle of nerves. The man is definitely skilled with his mouth, and before I know it, an orgasm crashes through me. He doesn’t let me come down; he just keeps pushing me higher and higher till I scream out his name as I come again.

“Creed,” I pant. “I need you inside me—now.”

He drops my legs from his shoulders as he stands, and instead draws them around his waist, leaning over and crashing his lips to mine. I can taste myself on him, and frantically, I wrap my arms around his neck, refusing to allow him to pull away. I clutch onto him tighter when he suddenly stands and grabs my ass with both hands as he walks across the room.

My back slams into the wall of the morgue as Creed kisses a path down my jaw and neck to the sensitive area where it meets my shoulder. I whimper as he bites down hard, obviously wanting to mark his territory.

One hand disappears from my butt as he pulls back slightly, then wraps it around his dick and bumps my clit with his head. He guides himself as it slips through my wet folds and nudges my entrance.

Sensing my need of not wanting to be apart for another moment, he thrusts his hard cock inside me all the way to the hilt. His Jacob’s ladder rubs against my inner walls, causing me to squirm. My legs tighten around his waist as I rock myself against him. He groans as he licks the sweat beading on my neck, right until his lips are against my ear. “The first time, I’ll go easy on you. But once I’ve made you come all over my cock, don’t think there will be any rest. I plan to take you up to my room and by the time the sun comes up, your body will be battered and bruised, and your knees will go weak every time you see me.”

He punctuates his statement by pulling out and slowly thrusting back deep inside me. I cry out his name as my freshly painted nails dig into his shoulders, making him growl and thrust even deeper into me, grinding his pelvis into my clit.

A loud bang startles me—causing my body to jolt, and Creed to still.

“What was that?” I whisper, looking over his shoulder. It came from one of the smaller fridges on the opposite wall where they keep individual dead bodies.

Bang bang . It happens again. “Creed, do you have a live person in there?”

“Fuck,” Creed swears under his breath.

He does... he has someone locked in there while we’re having sex.

Another loud bang echoes through the room and a scream tears from my throat as one of the doors flies off the wall and slams onto the floor. Creed doesn’t move, keeping me pressed against the wall, his cock still buried deep inside me as he covers my body with his.

“I’m so sorry, Tenshi,” he whispers. Why would he be sorry?

Everything happens in slow motion. A body slips from the small opening, booted feet first.

The man lands in a crouch on the ground. My eyes widen as I take in the colourful artwork marked all over his arms. The designs are so hauntingly familiar; ones I’ve traced with my fingers numerous times. My vision blurs as I take in the sight before me. My eyes follow his movement as he stands and digs his hands into his dirty-blonde hair, ruffling it up.

“Laughn?” I croak out as my vision starts to strobe.

This can’t be right. He’s dead—they all are.

Laughn lets out a groan while stretching his arms above his head. “What the fuck, bro?” he says, before looking our way and locking eyes with me.

I feel my face drain of colour and my world goes black.

“I think we finally killed her,” I hear Kai joke.

My head is extremely fuzzy, but I remember Creed being balls deep inside me and then... Laughn sliding out of a morgue fridge. There’s no way; I must have been high. Do dead bodies release toxic gas to humans? Because that’s the only explanation I have. I open my eyes and blink a few times to clear the haze. Creed is kneeling in front of me, a look of worry etched on his face.

“Are you okay, Tenshi?”

Nodding, I rub my head. “I... I thought Laughn was alive. I’m going batshit crazy.”

“I, for one, like your brand of crazy, baby.”

Screaming at the top of my lungs, I sit up ramrod straight. The sheet I’m covered with falls to my waist—my nipples pebbling from the cold—reminding me I was naked before I passed out. Guess I wasn’t going crazy every time I could sense them; I thought I was just imagining it. Marlow’s shirt that he first gave me, I couldn’t find it for a few days and then it turned up folded on my bed. I figured that someone had done my laundry, but it smelled heavily of sandalwood and an awful lot like him.

As I look around the room, not only is Laughn standing there, but Case, Boston, Marlow, and Davis—with his signature scowl—are all watching me and waiting for me to explode. I grab the sheet and cover my chest as I stand on shaky legs. Creed tries to help steady me, but I swat his hand away. Tears form in my eyes as I look at the guys that I thought were dead and buried, gone from my life forever. There is no way they’re standing before me now—I have to be dreaming.

I stumble my way over and come to a complete stop a foot from them.

“No. No. No.” I cry, shaking my head. I’m going crazy. It was only a matter of time and here I am. “I fucking lost you, you’re not here. Somebody pinch me, I must be dreaming.”

Laughn leans forward and pinches my skin between his fingers, my hand coming up to rub over the spot that stings. “You’re really here,” I breathe in awe.

“We’re really here, Wildflower,” Case whispers with a smile on his all-too-handsome face.

“You’re really here!” Launching myself forward, I beat my fists against Boston’s chest. He pulls me into his arms as I yell and scream, tears spilling down my face and wetting his shirt.

Creed pulls me from Boston’s hold and steps in front of me for protection. I know he can feel the hurt, pain, and confusion rolling off me in spades. Exhaustion takes over. Losing my grip on the sheet, it falls from my body, and I follow it—slumping to the floor, pulling my legs up, and wrapping my arms around them.

Marlow pushes past Creed, who growls in warning.

“Don’t cry, Petal. We’ll explain everything.”

He removes his shirt and kneels in front of me, pulling the material over my head and helping me slip my arms in. Covering me up with his shirt, similar to the first night we met.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Chester demands as he enters the room. He stalks his way over to me and a vein protrudes from his forehead as he looks at my tear-streaked face. Creed picks me up and cradles me in his arms; sensing the danger in the room, he moves me away. “Someone better explain why the fuck she knows about them!”

The murderous glint in his eye is one I don’t want to be on the receiving end of, but I have to try to calm him down. Creed explained to me the dangers of crossing the line with Chester; I unleashed the beast he’s been keeping locked away. Now that it’s been set free, I have a feeling there’s no going back.

Tapping Creed’s arm so he lets me down, I walk over to Chester. Brennan and Trace enter the room and shock washes over both their faces, but they remain quiet and watch the scene unfold.

Chester’s chest is heaving in anger as he stares down the five men standing in front of him; the same men who only a short time ago I thought were dead. I place my hand on his abs, scrunching his shirt in my hand.

“Little Angel, I need you to move away.”

“Chester, look at me.”

He ignores me, his sight locked on them. My tears released the beast from his cage and now he’s out for blood. I remember now, always running to Team Zeus every time I had a fight with Hades. Chester would always leave me with Creed to calm me down while he stormed off.

“Chester,” I snap, grabbing his face and forcing him to look at me. His whiskey eyes lock with mine as the smell of bourbon and sex invades my senses.

“I’m okay, but I need you to calm down. Just listen to the sound of my voice.” I take a deep breath. “Please don’t kill them. I can’t go through that again; I barely survived the first time.”

He nods. “You need to get dressed.”

I would hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I’ve fucked almost every man in this room. While I have no regrets about that, maybe now is not a great time to argue with him that it’s not necessary. The words of one of my old foster mothers filter through my head. Why would they buy the cow if they can get the milk for free? Well, bitch, at least no one’s thirsty.

“I’ll get dressed, but you have to come with me. When I return, I want to talk to everyone. So if any of you,” I say, turning my head to look at each of them, “need to get changed or have a weak bladder, take care of it now. You all have some explaining to do. I am not okay right now.”

I take Chester’s hand and pull him from the room. He trails behind me, walking silently from the morgue and through the house until we are in my room. Standing at the corner of my bed, he watches me gather some clothes before I head into the bathroom. Chester follows me to the door, then leans against the door frame, watching as I strip his brother’s shirt from my body. Neither of us says a word as I turn the shower taps on, stepping in when the water is at the right temperature—not blistering hot, but hot enough to turn my skin pink. Chester also strips off his clothes and dumps them in a pile on the floor.

I lather a loofah with my body wash as Chester steps into the shower behind me. His muscled arms come around my waist, and he takes the loofah, drawing a circle on my stomach.

“I feel like we finally had our chance to get to know you and now they’re back. They’re going to take you away from us,” he mumbles into my hair.

Still partially in shock, I shake my head. “I’m not going anywhere, Chester.” Spinning in his arms, I take a step back until I am pressed against the cool tiles. Chester looks down at me through hooded eyes.

“Though I hear the words coming out of your mouth, in here...” he says, beating his fist against his heart. “In here feels like it’s cracking, and you won’t fucking be there to hold it together.”

“I’ll cut a hole in your chest and hold your heart together, if that’s what it will take.”

“Jolie, I’m a monster. My love has no boundaries.”

Fuck, dropping the damn L word. I might not be able to say it back, but the conviction in his voice tells me he means every word. I bring my hand to his face, cupping his cheek, and he nuzzles into it.

“Then you’ll be my monster and we’ll figure it out together. Surely there’s a bigger reason why we are the way we are,” I murmur, rubbing my thumb across his sharp cheekbone. “But make no mistake, Chester, you are mine. No one can take you away from me.”

A primal noise tears from his throat as his hands slide to either side of my face, pulling me to him and up on my tiptoes. “Mine,” he growls against my lips as water cascades over us both.

Chester’s lips crash to mine, our kiss raw and brutal, and his force bruises my lips as his tongue tangles with mine. His right hand leaves my face as he takes a handful of my ass and lifts me, my legs wrapping around his waist. He doesn’t ask permission, thrusting deep inside me and claiming me as his, just like I did to him a few seconds ago.

Chester needs actions, not words. I was given a warning that once he took me, there was no going back, and I don’t care. I don’t want to go back—he’s mine as much as I’m his.

The thrusts are punishing, and the fingers digging into my ass will leave Chester-shaped bruises behind. I match his momentum to prove that I’m all in. His demons don’t scare me; this is what we were made for—each other. I might have nine other men downstairs that I am also matched to—and I have no idea how I plan to deal with that—but right here in this moment, it’s just us claiming each other. Chester’s body moulds to mine, water dripping down his face as an orgasm has my pussy clenching around his hard, pulsating cock. A growl rips through his lips, and his body stills as he finds his release with me. Resting his forehead against mine, he pants from the exertion.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“For what?”

“For taming my monster.”

“Thank god for that,” Creed says, and we both turn to see him leaning against the door frame. God only knows how long he’s been standing there. “I was running out of skin.”

Chester smiles, and I laugh as he helps me down. He cups my pussy and runs a finger through my slit until he slides two fingers inside me, then pulls them out and sucks them into his mouth. He moans around his fingers before he repeats the action and brings them to my lips. I open for him, and he slides them against my tongue, the bitter taste invading my mouth. “That’s what we taste like together, and I’m never going to get enough.”

Creed groans from the door. “I’m going to go beat one out. I’ll meet you downstairs.” With that parting statement, he turns on his heel and disappears.

I don’t know if he’s serious or not, but I turn the water off as Chester gets out and wraps a towel around his waist before holding one out to me. He motions for me to turn around, and he dries my hair, then works his way around my body. There is something intimate about having someone dry you, and my heart skips a beat at his rare display of tenderness. Once he’s ensured I’m fully done, he slaps my ass, making me giggle. I throw on my black leggings and one of Boston’s hoodies. He picks up his discarded clothes from the floor and follows me back into my room, then gets himself dressed. Once we’re both ready, we head back downstairs and find everyone is already waiting in the kitchen, even Creed.

My gaze snags on Boston where he leans against the kitchen island with a brow raised at my attire. I smirk at him, daring him to say something. He shakes his head, a small smile tilting his lips, but he wisely keeps his mouth shut.

I guess this is it. Time for them to lay their cards—and their lies—on the table.

My stomach churns as I look around the room at the ten guys who are meant to be mine. I’m a mess of emotions: happy they’re back, pissed they lied to me again, and uneasy about what this means going forward. No one should have to deal with this amount of bullshit in such a short period of time. At this rate, I’m going to be clinically insane by the time I’m twenty.