Page 77 of Destroy (Deadly Hearts 2)

Now, after only a few weeks. I know I can do this. I can move past the horror and get back the life that was cruelly taken away from me. Or maybe it wasn’t cruel. Maybe I deserved it.

Whatever.

All I know now is that I need to do this. For me. For them. For the men I love.

“Please,” I say steadily. “Go and get the other men.”

He nods slowly and backs out, closing the door quietly.

I sit in contemplation knowing that they are having a massive discussion about this downstairs. I tap my fingers, wishing they’d hurry up so we can start whatever it is I plan on doing with them once they are all here. The waiting is the worst part. Sitting here like an idiot while they flap their tongues like a bunch of old women.

I’m about to get up and demand that they all hurry the fuck up and get in here, when I hear the footsteps on the stairs.

My heart skips a beat, but I’m okay.

I wait as the door opens again and Declan, leading the charge, storms in and throws a blanket over me, dousing whatever arousal had been simmering.

“No,” he says, defiantly. “Just no.”

“Excuse me?” I choke out, shoving the blanket off me. “No, what?”

“Don’t do this. You don’t need to do this. We will wait.”

“Easy for you to say,” I retort, all guns blazing. “You got some earlier.”

David snorts loudly. “Well, she’s not wrong there, Irish.”

Then he looks at Cillian, who is looking everywhere except at me. “Does that make you Irish Two? Nah, never mind, I’ll find a name for you.”

“Hello?” I shout out, waving my hand about. “I’m naked here. Doesn’t anyone want me? You’re about to give me a massive complex.”

“I want you,” Layton says, quite bravely seeing as Declan throws him a look that would quite easily take the place of his sniper rifle on any given day. “Do you want me, sweetheart?” he asks, ignoring Declan and approaching the bed, and me, like a panther stalking its prey.

I know he is doing this on purpose. He expects me to pull the blanket up and tell them all to get fucked (not by me) and get out. But his little plan backfires. I rise to my knees, hearing all of their breath deepen at the sight of me.

“Yes,” I purr, the thrill of this game, the high from the control I have over this situation, spurring me on. I know this is right, and I’m ready. “Come and get me.”

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