Page 38 of Tortured Souls
“I want you right here on my lap, against my chest.” I don’t argue any further because, honestly, I love when he doesn’t hide his affection for me. In fact, he never has. He always needs to be touching me in some way. I’m usually the one that shies away from PDA, but since it’s just Saint here, I don’t mind. Plus, Saint hasn’t looked up from his phone since I took a seat on Saxon’s lap.
“Why were they here?” I finally ask, but I’m not sure I want to know the answer. If they’re both here, then it’s not for any good reasons, that much is certain.
“I’m not sure, but we’ll find out.” Saxon brushes a long strand of my hair over my shoulder, exposing my neck to him. He then rubs his nose so delicately up my neck it sends shivers down my spine. I grab onto his strong thighs as he snakes his arm around my waist and pulls me flush to his chest. I dare a glance at Saint once more, but he’s still nose deep in his phone.
“I’m going to bend you over this desk and fuck you until this whole club hears my name on your lips,” he whispers in my ear, and immediately, my panties dampen from his words. Before I can respond, the door opens, revealing Finn and two of the most terrifying, yet insanely gorgeous, men I have ever seen. I go to stand up, but Saxon holds me firmly against his body.
“Fellas, I’d like for you to meet my friends. Everett and Dean.”
SAXON
Who the fuck are these guys? Finn stands proudly in the doorway of our new office with a smile of pure satisfaction. Standing beside him is a tall man with tattoos covering every available inch of skin all the way up the sides of his scalp. His dark hair is styled to perfection—even Ryan Reynolds would drool from how handsome this man is. Beside him stands a slightly taller man with a buzzed haircut who’s equally covered in tattoos. I make a mental note to write down their tattoo artist because the work I can see is stunning. Both men are wearingblack long-sleeves and dark jeans, resembling soldiers in the way they hold themselves.
“This is Saint, Saxon, and Skylar.” Finn points at each of us before going back to his “friends” and doing the same. The buzzed-haired guy is Dean, and the other is Everett. Saint stands and shakes both their hands, while I give them a nod. Sky shocks me and stands, making her way around the desk and holding out her hand to shake as well.
“Nice to meet you both,” she says in her sweet, polite voice that has my cock twitching.
“It’s nice to meet you as well. Sky, is it? Beautiful name,” Everett says, and I notice his British accent right away. How the fuck does Finn know these guys? I stand and usher them to come inside, when I’m thrown off by a third man that comes up behind them all.
“This is Colson,” Dean says as he steps sideways, allowing their friend with long blond hair to come forward.
“Right, sorry, mate. I had to use the toilet. Long flight.” He extends his hand and shakes each of ours. I look at Saint and indicate for him to shut the door, the office suddenly feeling too small for the seven of us. I grab Sky’s hand and usher her back to sit in the chair, while Saint and Finn stand along the side of the wall, allowing Everett to take a seat. Colson and Dean stand, one on either side of the doorway.
“Well, this room just got a whole lot more tense,” Sky says from where she sits behind the desk, and I couldn’t agree more. As much as I trust Finn, I don’t trust these men, whoever the fuck they are.
“Allow me.” Everett breaks the awkward tension that’s fast becoming uncomfortable. “Our friend Finn here informed us that you may have had eyes on a man we’ve been tracking down—for quite some time, might I add. He goes by the name Riggs. However, his real name is Reginald Oswald. A man that ourcompany has deemed number two on their list of most wanted men.” I cross my arms in front of my chest and look towards Finn.
“Tell me, Finn, how did you and these gentlemen come to know each other?” I can’t focus on anything else besides this questionable friendship. I can’t allow these men to be involved in any of our business if that means it will jeopardize the safety of those I love most.
“Xbox Live. These three are fucking brutal atCall of Duty,” he says without the slightest bit of concern in his tone.
“Xbox?”
“As crazy as that sounds, he’s right. He’s been on our team for what? Three years now?” Colson, the blond-haired guy, chimes in from beside the door. I glance at Saint, the pair of us utterly speechless.
“Listen, mate. We’re only here for business. We mean no disrespect and bring no harm to the locals. We only came for Riggs,” Everett says, bringing my attention back to him. He’s hooked his ankle across his knee, his arms resting on both sides of the chair. He appears calm and not fazed in the slightest.
“What is it that you do?” I ask, needing some more clarification on the three strangers.
“We are part of an organization that makes certain bad people disappear, if you will.”
“So, you’re assassins?” Sky asks from beside me.
“No,” Dean, the tall grumpy one, says quickly in such a harsh tone that it makes my blood boil.
“Watch your tone,” I say to him, but the brute just stares at me with a deep scowl across his face.
“Dean,” Everett says. Just his name, and that’s all it takes for him to look away from me.That’s right, good dog.
“We don’t like to be referred to as assassins. Assassins kill people no matter who they are, good or bad. They kill whomeverthey’re tasked to because they receive payment. We, on the other hand, use our skills to eliminate the worst type of humans. We are the good guys who remove the bad guys,” Everett explains. His eyes remain on her the whole time he speaks.
“That’s honorable,” she responds. Then she looks at me when she speaks again. “Kind of like what I do.” I hold her gaze, her hazel-caramel eyes holding so much honesty and truth that I reach out and place my hand on her shoulder.
“How did you know they were looking for Riggs?” Saint asks Finn. It’s the question I, too, have been waiting to ask. All eyes shift to Finn.
“The internet is an extremely informative place.” So cryptic, yet so true. With Finn’s technology expertise, I don’t doubt one bit that he knows a lot more than any of us. He’s a catalog of information, only searching through and removing pieces when he needs to.
“There’s no hiding the fact that a man named Riggs is wanted by The National Crime Agency. Once we saw he was here, I knew right away these guys were the ones to call. Am I right, gentleman?”