Page 154 of Property of Necro
Sitting in a chair, one over, Rot points the tine of his fork at the offending brother. “You’re lucky Sola’s a fuckin’ saint, or you’d be dead.”
“I… Yeah.” The man looks at me and runs a hand across his head, ashamed. “I’m sorry.”
Hearing the brother address me, Coffin blindly reaches for his knife and points it in his direction before ripping his mouth from my wound with a grumbled gasp. “Don’t. Speak. To. Her. Ever,” he rasps, wiping the back of his hand across his blood-coated lips. He looks like a vampire—a super sexy one.
I lean in to lick the remnants from the corner of his mouth that he missed.
Said brother throws both hands up in apology. “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”
Keeping his gaze down to not provoke a pissed-off Coffin, Rot flashes me a smirk and a wink like we’re in on the same secret. I guess we are. Coffin’s overprotective. Way overprotective. But now’s not the time to talk to him about that. Maybe later. When he’s less angry and can understand that me not speaking to the brothers isn’t healthy if I plan to stay. It alienates me from them and vice versa.
Once Coffin’s calmer and far less grumbly, I slide off his lap and take my chair beside him. But before I can serve myself any dinner, Necro waves me over.
Is this when he makes me sit on the floor again, like last time?
He hasn’t seen me eat at the table yet. Maybe he doesn’t approve?
As I approach, Necro scoots his chair back, and I stop beside him. He pats his lap, and I stare like an idiot.
His eyes crinkle around the edges like he’s smiling behind the mask, but I… don’t understand.
He pats his lap again.Sit,he signs.
Oh.
Ohhhh.
Not sure of the protocol here since he doesn’t usually let anyone touch him, I tentatively lower myself on the edge of his closest leg, and he situates me so I’m draped across him—feet off the floor, sitting crossways so I can see his face. He snaps his fingers and gestures to my empty plate.
Rot stands and prepares it for me.
“No vegetables,” I request, but he ignores me and adds the green beans anyhow, but not before sparing me one of those don’t-argue-it’s-good-for-you looks.
I don’t know how eating dead, bad guys is good for you, so I guess those green beans will end up in the trash. That’s his fault for letting them go to waste, not mine. I didn’t pick them.
Rot delivers the food, along with silverware and a napkin. He kisses my cheek. “Enjoy,” he purrs as he reclaims his chair and leans over to share a quiet conversation with Coffin that I’m not privy to. But I see them. They’re talking about us. Their eyes cut our way far too often for it to be a coincidence.
Necro stabs the fork through a bite of mac-n-cheese and lifts it to my lips.
Oh.
I try to take it from him to feed myself, but he pulls me off. “You don’t have to do this,” I whisper so nobody else hears.
His gaze narrows as he returns the fork to my lips and waits.
I open, he gently glides in, and I close around the cheesy morsel before he slowly pulls out and shivers. Hiseyes squeeze shut for half a beat, and I hear his heavy breath before he procures another bite, and we repeat the same motions, over and over, until everything’s gone except the green beans.
He listened.
I don’t know why that touches me, but it does. When I lean in and kiss his cheek right above the mask to show my appreciation, I don’t think about how he might react, but when he groans the hottest broken sound, I’m instantly wet.
Slowly pulling back, I meet his gaze and whisper, “Thank you.”
His throat rolls as he swallows thickly and nods once.
Since he let me touch him yesterday, I haven't seen Necro. He didn’t meet me in the bedroom for morning sex like I’d hoped. He didn’t watch me shower. I haven’t asked the guys what he’s up to because it’s not my business, but I heard them last night when they thought I was asleep. They were too rowdy to miss.
Rot wants Necro to give me a month. A month of us all together. To see if we fit. If not, he’ll give Necro what he wants. Death.
