Page 31 of Torn Souls

Sure, I found each man attractive, I would have to be blind not to, but the thought of being with all of them was something I had mentally chastised myself for. It felt greedy and selfish as hell.

But now it’s my reality.

I find that I’m not at all bothered by the notion, even though it should send me running for the hills. Maybe I’m not because my instincts tell me I’m going to need each of my men to keep me safe from my father and then whatever else may come our way.

I’m under no illusion that my men are saints. You only need to spend a few minutes in their presence to know they have blood on their hands and are capable of untold savage violence.

Why the fuck does the thought make my pussy wet?

I shake my head as I stick my head out of the door to my room and look around. The house is still, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a man lurking in the shadows. It’s a silly notion considering I don’t feel like a prisoner here.

This place is nothing like the house I grew up in. There I never felt like I could take a full breath, but here it feels like I’m allowed to spread my wings.

What a difference a day makes.

As I make my way down the hall and then down the stairs toward the kitchen, I consider how Kirill could have easily killed me when I boldly showed up at his office unannounced. Telling a man like Kirill Volkov that my father was planning to use meto be his eyes and ears had the probability of ending up very differently than it did.

Maybe I showed were my loyalties lie with my actions. They sure as fuck aren’t with my father.

He was only becoming increasingly unstable. It was clear to me that his desperation was getting more difficult to control by the wild look in his eyes. Not only could I not predict his next move, but he would have kept hurting me.

One way or another I was going to find a way out. This one doesn’t seem half bad even if I did simply trade one danger for another.

At least I don’t believe my men will leave me bruised and broken. But, then again, what do I really know?

I grab a glass out of the cupboard and pour a glass of water before leaning against the counter. I didn’t turn on any lights, but I’m more than happy to remain in the dark. The house feels settled around me and a sense of peace washes over me.

Could it really be so simple that this is now my life?

There is something here to be explored. I’ve never felt a pull like I do when I’m around my men. It’s something I never expected to feel with one man let alone four. I want to explore what it means and how the electricity between us feels against my skin.

While I’m sure my father would be furious to know it, I’m not a virgin. When I had the opportunity of the limited freedom I fought for while in college, I took full advantage of it. Knowing my virginity was something I wouldn’t be surprised to find my father bartered with made it something I wanted to control.

Now I’m glad I did. The thought of taking on four men is daunting enough. If I were a virgin I’d be running for the hills. Or maybe a sunny beach somewhere, never to be heard from again.

The darkness beyond the large windows surrounding the dining area is cast in moonlight and I’m lost in my thoughts as I watch it play across the blades of grass and the tree line in the distance.

I’m shocked out of my reverie when a large, heavy hand lands on my shoulder. Without thinking, I turn in the opposite direction of the hold, shielding the side of my head from any attack which may be coming my way. I turn toward whoever is behind me and strike.

A masculine gasp of surprise hits my ears as my jab is blocked, but I don’t stop. I grip the man’s shoulder and pull him toward me as I raise my knee and make contact with his abdomen.

“Fuck,” the man roars as I keep him upright and then strike out again with my knee, pulling him toward me and using the momentum this time to push him past me and onto the ground.

I’m just about to jump on his back and wrap my arm around his neck in a choke hold when the lights snap on. A commotion pulls my focus away from the man on the floor and toward the doorway into the kitchen.

Maxim, Kirill, and Huck are standing there in various states of undress with shocked expressions on their faces. I look down at the floor to find a panting Baker who has flipped on his back and is looking up at me with awe written all over his face.

“Holy fuck, little bee. I’m not sure if I just came or fell in love with you,” he gasps out, trying to catch is breath.

I freeze for a moment before my hands start shaking as I realize what I’ve just done. I attacked him. Well, no, I defended myself, but still. He’s sprawled out on the floor and I’m standing above him with my hands still clenched into fists and my heart racing in my chest.

While shaking my hands out, trying to hide the tremble in my limbs as adrenaline tries to take over, the smile on my face is weak at best. “I’m sorry,” my voice trembles.

Baker hops up, his hand rubbing his abdomen right where I kneed him. His large, calloused hands cup my face, probably dwarfing me. His hazel eyes race between mine, searching for something.

I try to suppress the fear at retribution, but I know I fail when his eyes soften with understanding.

The next thing I know, I’m wrapped up in his arms and pressed against his chest like he’s encouraging me to climb inside of him. If only I could. He’s so warm, and the numbness starting to creep through my body abates almost immediately.

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