Page 76 of Run Little Killer

I pin my bottom lip between my teeth and shake my head.

“Good,” he murmurs, tugging me against him. “Cause as much as I love the chase, I don’t got the patience for foreplay when you’re dressed like this.”

“Dressed like what?” I ask, feining innocence and leaning into his hold.

“Like you’re ours,” he growls, a feral claim lacing his tone.

“I like the sound of that,” I muse, tilting my head up.

“C’mon,” he urges, lips curving into a smirk.

Nix leads me across the lot, music thrumming loudly from the speakers as bodies sway to the beat. The fire burns high and bright, casting shadows around us as we pace towards a grassy patch at the back.

Rhett’s already seated in a lawn chair, and Nix claims the one beside him.

“Here ya go, darlin’,” Rhett drawls, holding out a red solo cup in offering.

I shudder a breath as I reach for it, a little voice in the back of my mind casting doubt as I curl my fingers around the plastic.

Sensing my hesitation, he shoots me a wink and adds, “I made it myself.”

My stomach swoops, warmth blooming in my chest as I look between my two men. I’m a mess, but neither one of them has tried to fix my damage. Instead they’ve made themselves at home in the wreckage, and in doing so have given me a home to call my own.

The liquor in the cup sloshes onto my hand as Nix pulls me roughly down onto his lap, the hard ridge of his cock pressing into my ass. “From now on, you only run if we tell you to, little killer,” he growls into my ear, nipping the lobe.

I glance back at him over my shoulder, a smirk curving my lips. “You think you can boss me around now?”

“Here we go,” Rhett groans, scrubbing a hand over his face.

Nix’s eyes light up in challenge, the corner of his mouth ticking up. “Try it. You know what’ll happen.”

I do.

Which is why I spring up from his lap, ditching the plastic cup in the grass and sprinting for the trees.

Catch me if you can, dickheads.

THE END.