Page 67 of Cruel Games

Her eyes jerked to my dick as she rounded me again, and I had to swallow a bout of laughter as they widened, her lashes fluttering as a blush worked its way up her throat. “So I can see,” she said slowly, pretending there wasn’t a fucking anaconda between my legs. I was a shower, not a grower, and I knew damn well I hadn’t shrunk, even under such an icy stare.

“For someone who says she’d never fuck me in a million years, you sure are obsessed with my dick.”

For my sass, I got a towel in my face as she stalked by me, her hair regiment forgotten in her haste to pretend she wasn’t affected.

My grin widened, eyes glued to her ass as she stormed through my room and out into the common area, probably off to torment someone who’d be quiet and take it, like Coyote.

“Nice ass,” I whispered to the empty room, toweling off my body as I sauntered into my room and shut the door behind her. “Too bad it’s attached to such a bitch.”

TWENTY-FIVE

IVY

Jackal was a fucking prick.If he thought a little nudity was going to scare me, he had another thing coming. I stayed in there with a bullshit excuse just to make him feel awkward.

Except it was me marching out in a rush as I fled the scene, the sheer size of him, even soft, a shock to anyone’s system.

Nobodythat shitty should be blessed with such a massive, perfect dick.

It wasn’t right. Wasn’t fair.

Still didn’t stop me from wanting to hop right the fuck on it.

Dingo still bounced around in his room, and Coyote was nowhere to be found, so I took refuge on the couch, grabbing the remote to flip through the channels on this fucking tv like I was a normal human being, relaxing at home at the end of a busy day, looking for something to binge. Instead, the reality was I was a fucking killer amongst killers, living a lie, avoiding the inevitable.

One day soon I’d have to face the reality that I had nothing planned for myself beyond finding, infiltrating, torturing, and killing the Neon Dogs. I didn’t know where or what came next. I was just winging it over here, and when Coyote had offered their lives in servitude, it felt like one more way to drive the stake in deeper. Jackal was all for dying instead, which only served to make the idea even more tempting. When I moved in with them, my plan was to cause them as many headaches as possible, then kill them when I got tired of playing with these little strays.

Instead, I was looking for more ways to get under their skin in the hopes they’d snap and give me a reason. Jackal was a fight at all ends, stonewalling me, going against my every word and order as much as possible. Dingo was indifferent, seemingly just along for the ride, but I couldn’t help noticing the sad looks he shot my way whenever he thought I wasn’t looking.

AndCoyote.

Well.

That was complicated.

I was starting to wish he’d open his mouth and talk to me, as much as I knew it was unlikely, bordering onnever gonna happen.He hadn’t paced the living room reading Shakespeare since I started staying here, and part of me wondered if that was because of my presence. Something in me, something small, regretted pushing him out of his small self-serving hobby the others didn’t know about.

Or if they knew, they weren’t vocal about it.

This plan of mine had grown legs of its own, and every day presented me with another opportunity to make their lives miserable. The more time I spent with the Neon Dogs, the more I learned, and the easier it was to find ways to get under their skin. The goal was to make life so agonizingly intolerable that they hated coexisting with me. Then, when they’d outlived their usefulness, I’d?—

I’d what, exactly? Could I just walk out of here after signing contracts? Could I reasonably expect my life to last long after a thing like that? I didn’t plan on returning to my old life, and I sure as fuck wasn’t going crawling back to my mother for protection or support. I left her and that life behind when I took to the streets and threw away my bank cards.

That was something for future me to figure out.

Right now, I had bigger fish to fry. Like how to get under Dingo’s skin today.

Coyote and Jackal were off doing recon for a new contract, one they had hand-picked. Dingo was supposed to be on house duty, which was their not-so-sneaky term fordon’t leave the murderous bitch alone in our house duty.I wasn’t stupid. But letting them think I was ignorant of their plans was easier. Sooner or later, though, I needed them all out of my way so I could find out the truth about my father’s hit. I needed to know who fingered him and why, and the only way I could get thatintel was to get deep inside their ranks, get access to their old files, wherever those were.

Someone like St. Clair probably kept impeccable records. If I could get access to them, dig my fingers in the past work of the Guild, I could let the long reach of revenge touch a few more lives.

Revenge didn’t have to end with the Neon Dogs. Making everyone involved pay for his death was nearly within my reach. All I had to do was move a few pieces around the chessboard of this game, and then I’d have so much more than I’d ever dared to hope for.

Dingo wandered into the kitchen sometime later, huffing and sighing over the lack of food in their fridge or something. I didn’t really care as long as it didn’t directly affect me.

After the tenth sigh, though, I was starting to lose my cool. Who exactly was annoying who here?

Another sigh left his mouth, and I snapped, whirling on the couch to lean over the back and stare pointedly in his direction. “Something bothering you, dog?”

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