Page 55 of Cruel Games

Fucking bullshit.

I wasn’t about to let someone make me uncomfortable in my own home. With a grunt of aggravation, I yanked my wet shirt over my head and tossed it into the corner of the room, drying my hands on the dishtowel hanging from the stove.

“Let’s get a few things straight, sweetheart.”

Her head swiveled from where she’d been studying Jackal’s sprawled form on the couch to meet my gaze, her eyes blown wide in incredulity. “Excuse me?”

“You living here doesn’t change anything for us. We’ll do what we want, when we want, however we want. You’re inourspace, not the other way around. We share chores and responsibilities here, and that includes you, too.”

“I don’t think you understood the gist of our arrangement, Dingo,” she said flippantly, uncrossing her legs to switch positions. I caught a glimpse of her very bare pussy as she turned to me and smiled. “I’m nobody’s maid, either. So you guys can do you, and I’ll do me.” Her hand flipped the gun she still held, those blue eyes pretending to admire the grip with interest. “If anyone has any complaints, open office hours for these hands are dawn to dusk.”

Jackal snorted from the other side of the room. “You’re hilarious,kitten. Could you even take us in a fight if you didn’t have a gun and knockout gas?”

“If you’re lucky, you’ll never have to find out, “ she retorted, sticking her tongue out at him. “But you’re welcome to test your theory anytime, Jackal.”

I doubted it was a good idea to let the two of them have a go at each other any time soon. “Okay now, kids, let’s calm down and get serious.” I tossed around a few questions burning in the back of my mind, and somehow settled on a completely random one. “Any food allergies we need to know about?”

“Why? Planning on poisoning me with dinner?”

Another snort left Jackal’s nose, this one a bit more on the sarcastic side. “Please. If we were going to take you out, it wouldn’t be with poison. That’s the Commandos’ schtick.”

She perked up instantly, moving from the counter in a flash to slide onto the couch and sit atop Jackal like he was a chair. “Who are they?”

He grumbled, shoving her to the floor with a disgruntled sniff. “I’m not part of the couch, bitch. Find another seat.”

I couldn’t hold back my barking laughter when she slid right back up onto his lap and threw her arms around his neck, putting him in a chokehold he couldn’t get out of.

“Let me ask you again. Who are the Commandos?”

“Get off me and I’ll tell you.” He stared pointedly at her bare stomach, then shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “Or stay there, and we can discuss the first thing that pops up.”

I nearly choked when she stuck her finger in her throat and mimed a gagging motion. “No, thank you. Once was enough for me. And I’d rather not talk about that again, if I can help it.”

The pretty blush on her cheeks said otherwise as she nearly jumped off Jackal to get away from that ticking time bomb.

“So does that mean we’re supposed to pretend we haven’t tasted you, sweetheart?”

“Stop calling me those names.” Sitting in the far corner of thecouch, hands crossed under her chest, face scrunched up like a toddler mid temper tantrum, she looked fucking adorable. It only made me want to tease her more, so I did.

“What names? Sweetheart? Kitten?” I abandoned the kitchen in search of a new source of entertainment—our new member. Our leader, as she styled herself. “What if we started calling you master instead? Would that make you happy?”

“Don’t you fucking give her ideas,” Jackal growled, but I saw the smile spread unwittingly on her lips as she ducked her head and mumbled in dissent.

“Shut up, asshole,” she returned, obviously done with me and my taunts.

From the kitchen, Coyote cleared his throat and held up two different meats—steak in one hand, chicken in the other. Those of us who’d lived with him long enough knew what he was trying to ask—which one?—but Ivy was new here. So I decided to give her a little nudge.

“Oh, neither of those meats will do, Coyote. Obviously, we’re expected to carve ourselves up so this maneater here can dine on our flesh tonight.”

Her gaze swiveled to the kitchen, where Coyote’s face was fighting off a fit of uncharacteristic giggles at her expression. “I’m not a cannibal, you fuckstick. Steak is fine.”

“How do you like it?” I prodded, nodding to the man in the kitchen.

“She likes it bloody and screaming in pain,” Jackal offered slyly, his eyebrow quirked in anticipation of her reaction. “If you’d paid attention today, you would know that.”

“Medium,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes. “I don’t eat raw meat.”

“No, right, you just fuck it,” I supplied, my grin so wide I was about to break my face in half with my mouth. “Or was I dreaming the way you came off the table and had to jam yourtongue down—mmfffmfmfmfm.”

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