Page 35 of Wicked Devotion
“He would fit in,” Max says, hands sneakilyvanishing under my shirt. “You do have to admit they look intimidating, all geared up.”
“Theyonlylook intimidating when they’re all geared up, and solely because you are embarrassingly easy to impress.”
“Oh, someone’s jealous.” A grin tugs at Max’s lips, and it’s contagious. “Don’t worry, Logan, you’re still the scariest guy on base, I promise.”
Max grabs me and turns us around so that I’m straddling his lap. He’s hard, his cock straining the fabric of his boxers, pressing directly against my clit—all while he keeps on talking to Logan like this is an absolutely normal way to start the day.
“The rookies are whispering about your collection again.”
Logan lets out an amused huff. “Gullible kids.”
“I’ll regret asking about it, right?”
Max squeezes my thigh, a mischievous smile dancing over his lips when I look at him.
“It’s not really a collection,” Logan reasons. “I just like to take things off. Or out. And sometimes, seldom, I take a little souvenir with me. No wet stuff, though. Too hard to preserve.”
“You’re scaring her.” Max laughs, his hips moving with every chuckle. “He’s just messing with you, baby.”
“Am I?” Logan asks, cocking his head to the side.
He gets up from his chair, his fingers tangling in my hair once he reaches the mattress. He grabs a fistful, not hard enough to hurt but determined enough to make shivers run down my spine. Slowly, he pulls until I have to tilt my head back.
“Can’t help myself, you look too fucking hot when you’re scared,” he murmurs, his eyes meeting mine.
He lets go of my hair, leaning closer until his breath fans over my neck with every word he speaks.
“I know it turns you on,” he whispers. “To imagine all the things I could do to you.” He grabs my hips, forcing me togrind over Max’s cock. “The things you’dletme do to you. I’ll have you begging for stuff you’re ashamed to even think about, sweetheart.”
Max meets my gaze with eyes full of lust, his hand snaking to the back of my head before he pulls me down and his lips land on mine. His cock throbs against me when my tongue darts out to lick over his bottom lip, and I am so lost in the feeling I barely hear the disapproving tsk coming from behind me.
“Enough dry humping for one morning,” Logan says, and Max presses his hips against me one last time before he lifts me off of his lap.
“Killjoy,” he grumbles, but Logan ignores him.
“Talley got new recruits.” Logan puts his foot on the armrest of the couch, tightening his shoelaces. “I’ll help with basic training until we’re getting interesting jobs again. If things don’t change soon, I’m gonna talk to Cantrell. I’m fucking tired of the bottom of the barrel shit we’ve been getting recently.”
Max looks over at the clock, immediately jumping up from the bed. “Fuck,” he says, searching for his clothes. “My meeting with Joyce starts in ten minutes.”
“Why are you talking to her?” Logan asks the moment the name Joyce leaves Max’s mouth, his voice carrying a weird undertone.
“Because of my contract,” Max answers, and all of a sudden, the uncomfortable tension from last night is back as if it was never gone. “And I promised Hewitt and Osorio to prepare our monthly demolition disposal training, so I won’t be back until the afternoon.”
The last part was directed at me, and Max strokes over my cheek while he gives me an apologetic look. “So beautiful,” he whispers, smiling when I look up at him. “God, I wish I could take you with me, baby.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Logan says, putting on his jacket.
“I know, I know,” Max mumbles, searching his pockets for something. “Charlie is doing his grocery run today, and if you want to, you can go with him.”
When Max finally finds what he has been looking for, he pulls a credit card out of his wallet and forces it into my hand. “Buy whatever you want.”
“Do you really think Hunter’s able to keep her safe?” Logan asks, and the idea of him being worried about my safety causes a fluttering feeling in my stomach before I can argue with Max about the whole credit card thing.
“It’s a Costco, Logan, not an active warzone,” Max groans. “Who’s gonna attack them? The lady handing out samples?”
Logan shakes his head, turning my way. “If someone follows you or tries to grab you, you go straight for a throat punch.”
“Throat punch, got it,” I reply, and he gives me a pat on the shoulder as he walks past me.
