Page 5 of Game of Revenge

“Oh, good, I’m starving,” he says with a sigh. “Thanks for the help, I would have been in there forever if I had gone alone with either of them.”

“It’s no problem,” I say. “Don’t mention it. I like helping you visualize your dreams for this house.”

“What about your dreams?” he asks, pulling on his seat belt.

“They’re wherever you are,” I remind him. “Even if things fall apart with the twins, I’m yours.”

On that note, I drive back to the home we’re remodeling to start new dreams, while Kiernan has a goofy smile on his lips.

“We’ve all been under so much stress with the house, maybe we can have a vacation after Brian’s reunion,” Kiernan suggests. “Eat some edibles, fuck, and eat junk food.”

Surprised, I bark out a laugh because it’s rare that we get to indulge ourselves like that since we’ve been so busy. We are the backup sitters for Carrie when she needs it, and this house remodel has been a time suck.

“I’m definitely in for that,” I agree. “The twins are more fun when they’re high, and Brian manages to pull the stick out of his ass.”

“Only so I can fill it,” Kiernan says with a snicker.

His laughter is infectious, and we’re both still chuckling as I pull into the driveway of the big house.

“What’s the point of being with big, strong men if I’m not using you all for your muscles?” Kiernan asks as we get out of the truck. “Want to grab them to help with the wood and paint?”

“Sure,” I agree easily, getting out of the vehicle. Unfortunately, I hear the twins bickering the moment I walk into the house.

It’s the same shit, different day, and I don’t even need to hear a word to know what it’s about. Michael is pissed that Brian wants to go home for the reunion and memorial, a place he doesn’t like either.

Relationships, their childhood, it’s all complicated with them, but they can never figure out how to use their words. If they weren’t related, I’d tell them to bang it out, but that won’t work.

“Yo!” I yell. “That’s enough. Either take a walk or help. You know what, fuck that. This house is huge. Go knock down some more walls. They’re clearly marked for demolition, so you can’t fuck it up.”

“Sorry,” Brian mumbles, raking his fingers through his blond hair. His tattoo of snakes and ivy is clearly on display as he does this, his large arm holes on his T-shirt reminding me of how gorgeous he is. “We can’t seem to be in the same room lately without wanting to kill each other.”

“It’s true,” Michael says with a sigh. “I think destroying walls will help dispel some of the testosterone.”

That’s one of the issues of having so many men in one place. The big dick energy can get to be a little much.

The brothers walk out grumbling, and I can see where they left the bag of sandwiches. Knowing them, they probably already ate, thinking that we would take forever.

Remembering that Kiernan is waiting for me, I curse under my breath and run to rush back out. Unfortunately, it almost causes a collision as he comes in with some of the wood slabs we’re going to put down, and I narrowly miss running into him.

“What happened?” he asks, wondering about why I’m so out of it.

I really don’t like watching the twins fight, because I know one day it’s going to fracture what we’re building.

“The guys went to take out their issues on the walls,” I explain, sighing.

“Just as well,” he mutters. “I’m having a good day, and don’t really want to deal with their shit today.”

It sounds as if he’s running out of patience too, which is never good.

“I’ll help you get the rest of the stuff out in the truck, and then we can eat lunch,” I suggest. “If you’re a very good boy, I’ll eat you too. Think you can paint and stuff my throat full of cock?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m so down for that challenge,” Kiernan growls.

Smirking, I step around him to unload the bed of the truck. I also know that I’m not imagining how quickly he unloads the armful of lumber he has so he can come help me. Before I know it, we have everything inside of the house, ready to tackle our next project.

Maybe I'll give him a blow job while he starts with the bullshit task of painting a random wall that needs it. It just probably doesn’t need it right this second.

I barely taste the three bites of my sandwich that I manage to take before putting it away, while Kiernan makes a face at his turkey sandwich before wrapping it back up. His erection is thick and proud in his basketball shorts, tenting it in an effort to get noticed.

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