Page 30 of The Brat Tamers

“Fuck,” Lee hisses, throwing his head back. “I like it when your mouth is full, pet.”

As soon as I have her dripping wet with her pussy quivering around my fingers, I stand up, lean over her and shove my cock deep inside without warning. Her cunt grabs hold and milks me, her climax instantaneous. I pump my hips, chasing my own release through her tight grasp, while Lee looks like he’s close to coming himself.

I hook my forearm under her knee and spread her wide, sliding in and out of her slick heat until I can no longer hold back. Pulling out of her, I shoot my load onto her stomach, painting her with my cum. Lee quickly follows, pulling out of her mouth and coming on her chest.

A washcloth flies in from my side and smacks me in the face—payback from Porter for pushing his head out of the way earlier. I slide him a bit of side-eye and pick up the washcloth, wiping Epi clean.

Lee staggers back to sit on the couch while I lean over Epi and kiss her with all the possessiveness I feel coursing through my veins. “Such a good girl.”

She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me down on top of her. “I like it when you call me good.”

“And when I call you a brat?”

“I like that, too.”

Porter smacks me on the shoulder. “Why don’t you take a shower, and I’ll make dinner?”

“Do you want your men to bathe you, or do you need some time alone?”

“Has anything about me made you think I want to be left alone?”

“No, not really.”

I stand up with her legs wrapped around my waist, her arms looped around my neck, her body glued to my chest, and tilt my head towards Lee. “Shower?”

As if answering for him, the phone rings. We exchange a look, because there’s only two people who would call this number. I dip my chin, giving him the answer to the silent question in his brow, and carry her upstairs to the bathroom.

* * *

After washing her hair and body, I wrap her in a couple of towels and leave her on the bed with a kiss on her forehead. “Come down when you’re ready.”

I run down the stairs and throw on a set of clean clothes before walking outside to find Lee and Porter talking over the grill. “Who was on the phone?”

“Soren. He got a ping off the tracker in the hub. It was within two miles of here.”

“When did it pop hot?”

“Came on about three hours ago. It comes on for a few minutes and then goes off for twenty minutes.”

“Three hours?” I look across the woods and over the brush toward our parked truck on the road.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Lee says. “Did she activate something? Bring something back into the cabin with her?”

“We locked her electronics in the lead-lined box.” I can’t think of what would have changed over the last few hours, unless she had a tracker implanted in her vagina and we knocked it loose.

“Fuck.” Porter tosses down the grill tongs and runs inside, returning with her designer trainers. “She brought these back with her from the truck.”

He tosses one to me, the other to Lee, so we can inspect them. I find a tiny glued seam in the heel's tread and flip open my knife, cutting a big hole in the sole. I rip it open until a tiny tracker falls onto the deck floor.

“Son of a bitch.” Lee picks up the tiny chip and glances around the property. “We should move her.”

“We should hide her and lure these fuckers in. I’m tired of this shit,” Porter growls.

Lee and I exchange a look, but it’s the sound of a large vehicle out on the road that has me running into the cabin to check the monitors.

Tan van. Motherfucker. “It’s them.”

I’m pulling my boots on at the same time Lee is strapping on his weapons. Grabbing my tactical bag and truck keys, I yell at Porter while running after Lee out the door. “She’s upstairs. Get her secure, and we’ll be right back.”

I tear ass down the dirt drive and swing to the left onto the road in the direction the van was traveling on the monitors. “They are not getting away this time.”

Lee slides the hammer back on his Glock, putting one in the chamber. “Let’s just hope they aren’t a diversion.”