Page 17 of Property of Camo

“Bitch keeps pulling me in,” I gruff.

“Why won’t you just claim her, brother? You have been fucking her for a year now, and you can’t say that you feel nothing for her, because every time someone makes a remark that they would like to try her out, you go bat shit crazy,” Cotton adds.

My fists clench on my thighs, and he cocks a brow at me, showing me that he is right.

“See?”

“Fuck off, Cotton. You know that there is no way I can bring her into this life. What we do is dangerous as it is. Bringing a human here or even linking her to me means I put a target on her back. And if she gets hurt, there is no coming back from that for her.” Fuck me, I have never said that shit out loud before, but I know that my brothers know my reasons.

“Camo, brother, you know that she could die right now from being hit by a car or attacked. Humans die all the fucking time, but with you there to protect her, she has a better chance,” Rush butts in. “Plus, you know she is already connected to you. Mostly everyone knows where you stick your dick on the regular, brother.”

The thought of her dying makes my gut twist and my heart beat faster.

“Or I can change her,” Thorin adds smugly.

“Not a chance in hell, you blood thirsty prick. You know then she will have a bond with you that not even I can break.”

“Well, you said that you do not want to claim her. So what is the problem?”

My teeth hurt from how hard I am grinding them. He knows he fucking has me.

So far, none of my brothers have found their mate, or Ol’ Lady, whichever you want to call them. We all like to fuck; Thorin has been fucking for longer than all of us, since he was turned years ago.

We work hard, so we play hard. That is the one thing that we all have in common.

We like bikes, booze, and pussy.

“How many women have you fucked since you have been sticking it in Skyla?” Halen asks, before sipping from his beer.

Moving my gaze over to the club girls, I think about how much I have passed them over for the past twelve months or so. Looking between them, I see nothing that I like anymore, noneof them hold a light to Skyla and that sets off alarm bells in my head.

Skyla being human is like I said, she is a target to get to me. As a supernatural yes, we die and get hurt, it just takes more effort, but also we can be saved with some dark magic shit that we have. A human cannot, unless I have Thorin turn her, which is out of the question.

“Fuck me, he is counting how many times he has fucked each of the club whores.” Shift laughs, making me scowl at him.

“None. I get my cock sucked but I have never fucked any of them since I started sleeping with Skyla.” I shrug it off like I do not give a shit how they take what I just said.

“None? Fuck off, brother; you need to get your dick wet on the regular,” Rush jumps in, making the guys laugh.

“I do get my dick wet, just with spit and not pussy juice.”

“I can give you my pussy juice.” This comes from Shaz, the club girl who thinks she is the queen bee of the girls here at the club.

The guys laugh; they do not even try to hide that shit.

Turning to look up at her, she bites her lip, looking down at me, then her fingers skim across her skin below her skirt. My dick stays dormant, which pisses me off. Skyla has him on a leash and she doesn’t even know it.

“I think you gave everyone a sample of your pussy juice, Shaz, but I am not interested. Maybe another time, yeah?” I say.

Her hand rests on the back of my neck and I shit you not, my skin crawls. I try not to react as her long purple nails scrape across my skin.

Leaning forward to place my bottle on the wooden table, I ignore the smirking from my brothers, as they know what the fuck I am doing. I look to Winger, and he cocks a brow at me, but says nothing.

It drives me fucking crazy because I know he sees shit but keeps it to himself. I get why he does— being a seer can be a blessing and a curse. Over the years that I have been his VP, I have seen Winger crumble over not being able to stop something from happening, to being a complete hero and the pinnacle of a rescue.

A phone ringing pulls me from my thoughts and I blink, looking at Thorin, whose face has gone dark. He sits forward, his gaze connecting with Pres who sits listening intently, waiting for our brother to explain.

“Yeah. Got it.” Thorin hangs up. “We need the boardroom,” he states.

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