Page 18 of Veiled Vengeance (The Devils of New York #3)

RIO

S tanding at the window, I wait for the truck—it’s been forever since I placed my order. I should be patient, but Asher, Zane, and I are getting fucking tired of sleeping on the floor.

“What are you doing? You’re making me nervous,” Spencer inquires from her spot amongst the heap of blankets. She’s lying on her stomach, watching a show on the new TV Zane bought and installed in her bedroom. She’s wearing one of my shirts again and a pair of biker shorts.

“ Nada . No te preocupes .” I wave a hand at her. Nothing. Don’t worry about it.

Spencer sits up. “Ever since Zane and Asher left for work, you’ve been peering out the window. Should we leave? Should I call Hayes and Dahlia and tell them to hurry back from picking up food?”

“It’s nothing, Mama. Relax. Watch your show.”

As Spencer stands and makes her way to me, the delivery truck pulls up to the curb.

“What’s that?”

I smile at her but don’t answer. Thirty minutes later, the deliverymen and I have the new bed hauled up the stairs and into Spencer’s room.

Spencer stays to the side of the room and throws her arms out wide as I finish putting the sheets, comforter, and pillows in place. “What the hell is this?”

I raise my brows. “It’s a bed.”

“No, shit, Sherlock.” Her frown is full of sarcasm. “I mean, where did you get it, and how the hell are we supposed to live like this when the bed takes up the whole damn room?”

Unable to hold back, I chuckle and comment, “That’s what she said.”

Spencer rolls her eyes. “Oh my God. You’re such a child.”

Sitting back against the pillows with my legs crossed and hands behind my head, I rib her further. “Clearly, it fits.” I gesture to the open carpet surrounding the bed.

“Barely!” Spencer retorts.

Eyeing the couple of feet from the edge of the bed to where Spencer stands, I tilt my head back and forth. It’s not much, but it’ll do for now. “Meh. It’ll be fine.”

“What—I—How—” She stumbles over her words as her brain fights over which question to ask first.

“We’ll pick out a frame later.” I shrug.

Her mouth continues to open and close in confusion.

Standing from the bed, I saunter up to her and place my hands on her hips.

Her shoulders relax at my touch, and masculine, smug satisfaction settles in my chest. “I’m not twenty anymore, Mama.

Neither is Zane and Asher. We can’t keep sleeping on the floor, and you’ve had better sleep with all of us in bed with you.

And there’s no way all of us could fit in your queen-size bed.

It was a tight fit with just three of us. So, I came up with a solution.”

Spencer peers up at me in disbelief and opens and closes her mouth as she searches for a rebuttal.

I don’t give her a chance to speak; I lean down and slam my lips on hers. It takes her a moment to understand what’s happening. But once she realizes, she kisses me back with fervor. Our lips push and pull in a blissful dance as our hands skate over each other’s bodies.

Mierda . The desire this woman stirs in me is unreal.

I move my hands over her waist and up her torso, cupping her free breasts. Just like any man, I love seeing her boobs in a bra, all pushed up and in my face. But no bra means I get to feel every inch of her mounds, uninhibited.

She lifts my shirt and skims her fingertips over my abs. When she moans, I open my mouth and bite down on her lip, drawing a small drop of blood. She wiggles in an attempt to get closer, and the motion rubs her pussy against my hard cock.

“We got Chinese!” Hayes shouts as the front door opens.

My hands release her tits, and I wrap my arms around her in an embrace. She blows out a breath of frustration and calls out, “Sounds good! We’ll be right there!”

“Don’t forget to come out clothed!” Dahlia yells back with a snicker.

Spencer’s cheeks turn red. “Oh my God.” She giggles as she buries her face in my chest.

“No need to be embarrassed, Mama. This is all very natural.”

She shakes her head. “It’s bad enough that I know they heard me with Asher the other night.”

I place my hand under her chin and guide her gaze to mine. “If I thought you’d be into it, I’d make you scream my name over and over while Hayes and Dahlia eat lunch on the other side of the door.”

Spencer bites her lip, testing my control, but when her stomach grumbles, I set aside all plans of tasting her delectable pussy.

I grab her hand and lead her to the door. Tossing back a wink, I tease, “Let’s get you fed. I know what happens when you get hangry.”

She frowns. “You’ve never seen me hangry.”

We eat and spend the rest of the day wrapped up in each other’s arms, while Dahlia and Hayes keep to themselves.

When Asher and Zane get back from work long after the sun has disappeared below the horizon, they find me and Spencer lying on the new bed, watching a true crime documentary about the serial killer, John the Baptist. It blows my mind that this kind of thing is what relaxes my sweet, innocent Spencer.

Spencer perks up when they walk into the room. “Y’all are back!”

A smile spreads over Asher’s face, and he sheds his sling and tie, before flinging off his nice shoes. He lies next to her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her forehead. “Yeah, Princess. We’re back.”

Spencer settles into the strength of his arms with a content upturn of her lips. She leans into his large frame and soaks up the security he gives her.

Zane strips down and changes into a pair of gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips. He climbs over me to get to Spencer, elbowing me out of the way. She sits up and opens her arms to him. They exchange a brief kiss and lie back down in a restful position.

“How was your day, Angel? What did you and Rio do?”

She releases a tranquil sigh. “Nothing. I should hate it—part of me wants to go running in the morning still, and keep to my routine. But relaxing all day has its appeal as well.”

I direct my question to Asher. “How did it go?”

Spencer doesn’t miss my purposeful lack of clarity. “How did what go?”

Asher sighs and leans back into the pillows. “Berkowitz tried to deny it until I showed him the evidence. IA has him now. I’m sure the Director and the DA will want to rush the trial.”

Spencer leans into Asher’s space. “What happened with Berkowitz?”

“His name was on Anthony’s list,” Zane answers.

Spencer’s expression turns implacable. There’s no warning before her hand whips out and smacks us each on the arm.

“Hey!” Asher shouts.

“ ?Eso dolió! ” That hurt.

“What was that for?” Zane complains.

?Mierda! Mama knows how to make a playful swat sting.

“That’s for keeping another thing from me.

You should have told me Isaac Berkowitz was on the list. And you should have told me you were confronting him today.

You shouldn’t have done it alone! If we’re in this together, if we want this”—she gestures to all four of us—“to work, then honesty is key. I thought that was established the other night, but it seems y’all needed a reminder.

” She crosses her arms with a dignified grunt.

Asher gives her a mock glare. “That’s the only time you’ll get away with something like that.”

“I’m not interested in a repeat performance,” Zane adds.

“You can hit me anytime, Mama. Just don’t get mad when I fuck you raw against the wall.” I give her a wink.

“You’re impossible, Rio Flores.” She tries and fails to suppress a smile.

When we all get a flash of her perfect teeth, we attack. Asher holds her wrists, Zane tickles her stomach, and I go for her feet.

“Oh my God! Stop! Not fair!”

Her laughter rings in the air, filling the room with light.

“I’m going to pee on you!” Spencer threatens.

We all pull our hands away, panting.

“Wouldn’t be the first time you peed in front of me,” Asher remarks with a smirk.

“That wasn’t by choice!” Spencer retorts as a blush spreads across her cheeks and down the length of her soft neck. “Now, tell me what y’all were talking about with Berkowitz.”

“His name was on the list,” Zane repeats.

Spencer rolls her eyes. “Yes, yes, you said that already. I mean, what happened today?”

Asher fills her in. “I turned him in. He was arrested.”

“Oh . . . So you don’t . . . Umm . . .”

I snort. “No, Mama. We don’t kill everyone who breaks the law.” She nods her head. “Only some,” I add.

She scrunches her brows. “Okay, that makes sense.” Once she’s done puzzling out how we operate, she continues. “All right. Now what?”

Asher gathers Spencer in his arms. “Now we enjoy our evening together.”

“But what about tomorrow?”

Zane dips his head and kisses her neck tenderly. “We’ll deal with that together as well. And the next day and the next.”

“So, what’re we watching? Is that a documentary?” Asher makes himself more comfortable and places himself and Spencer under the blanket.

Spencer hums her confirmation. “Yes. It’s about John the Baptist.”

Asher and Zane groan, and I scoff at their contempt.

“What? I think this kind of thing is interesting.” Spencer defends her choice.

“Why would we watch a documentary about something we lived through?” Zane argues.

Spencer’s eyes light up. “Did you help catch him?”

The rest of the night we spend in bed, finishing the documentary, with Asher and Zane injecting their own comments into the mix.

They give Spencer details that the documentary skimmed over or didn’t mention at all.

Spencer is like a little girl on Christmas morning who got the pony she’d been hoping for.

Asher and Zane eat our leftover Chinese takeout from lunch, and Spencer falls asleep as soon as the documentary ends.

We quietly tuck ourselves in around her.

Spencer has become our center of gravity. We’ve always been drawn by this inexplicable need to be in her orbit, to exist where she exists.

She couldn’t get rid of us if she tried.