Page 19 of Fu*kboys in Flannel

Bennett quirks an eyebrow at me, asking me a silent question, and I give him a nod.

Two harsh snaps of his hips have him so far down her throat I can see her skin bulging before her entire body goes limp.

Fucked her unconscious as promised.

I pull out and drop to my ass, trying to catch my breath.

“I guess we could lug her ass up to the old hunting cabin. It isn't far from here, but I’m gonna need about ten minutes to get the feeling back in my legs,” my brother says, and all I can do is shake my head and grunt.

“Yea we’ll take her there. Can’t fucking leave her out here. Fuck that was the best nut I’ve ever busted,” I mumble out loud.

“Amen brother, a-fucking-men.”

And we spend the next few minutes in silence with our own thoughts before getting up and dragging Tessa up, throwing her over my shoulder before we start walking the half mile to the cabin.

I was supposed to fuck her out of my system.

But this wouldn’t be enough.

I wanted her even more now and I guarantee so did Bennett.

Chapter 9

Tessa

I feel like I’ve been tied to the back of a truck and dragged for fifty miles over logs and rocks. I don’t have a clue what time it is, or what day it is, actually. How long have I been sleeping? I lie completely still in the bed that they must have put me in after I fell asleep from exhaustion. I note that I’m alone, and that makes me wonder if maybe they had their fill and they’re ready to move on now. I don’t think there is a single square inch on my entire body that hasn’t been touched by a Slade. I feel conflicted as usual because I enjoyed last night immensely, but I’m annoyed that they think fucking me into submission would somehow turn my brain to mush and I’d pick one of them for the hell of it. Do they really want to be with me, or is this just some kind of pissing contest to settle their rivalry?

“I hope their dicks fall off,” I groan out the words as I push myself out of the bed and swing my legs over the side. I have no idea where my clothes are or if they’re even wearable at this point, so when I get to my feet I shuffle over to the closet and grimace when I see nothing except flannel shirts. I can’t be picky because I really need to pee. I grab the softest one, throw it on and button it without much care, and shuffle out of the room and down the hallway in search of a bathroom. It’s chillier in the hunting cabin than our houses are, and I wonder if they have a fire going. It doesn’t matter because I’m really leaving this time. They hate each other far more than they could ever love me. After I wash my hands, I splash water on my face and give myself a ‘you’re a dumb bitch’ smile in the mirror. Ravens don’t love, they possess things. Toys. That’s all we’ll ever be to them. Even Remington, who treats Mia better than Grey ever will Emerson or the Slade brothers will me, he doesn’t love her. He’s obsessed with her. I can see it in his eyes when he looks at her.

I pull the bathroom door open, fully prepared to stomp around the cabin and raise hell until someone gives me my clothes back and drives me to the bottom of this fucking mountain. Maybe I’m more of a Bishop than I ever thought I was. Per usual, Mason has his own plans because I run smack dab into his hard chest. I put my hands up to push him away, but he’s ripping the shirt I’m wearing clear down the middle in one swift yanking motion. The buttons fly off and all I can do is grab for it, trying to cover myself like I have anything left to be modest about.

“What the fuck is your problem?” I yell at him, and I don’t back up because I’ve learned with him and his brother that showing any sign of weakness only makes the pounce harder. I have nothing left to give him, and I see the way his eyes flash to the bruises that are starting to form on my skin. I can’t quite read him, but I would fall over dead if someone could prove to me that he felt any sort of remorse for his part in putting them there.

“Take it off,” Mason finally says, reaching up and placing one of his large arms on the top of the door frame, signifying that I’ll need to go through him if I want out of this bathroom.

I glare at him, and I don’t miss the slight hitch in his breathing. The fucker likes when I’m mad at him and I’d be willing to bet my rage makes his dick hard. “I’m not walking around naked so you and Bennett can admire your prize. I’m leaving today.” I lean in and poke him in the chest with a steady finger. “I’m giving you two the choice today. You can kill me or let me go. I’m leaving one way or another.”

He furrows his brow, and it feels like his piercing eyes might burn a hole right through my skin. “You’re not going anywhere, and you’re not walking around with your ass hanging out of my brother’s fucking shirt,” he growls, slipping his black t-shirt off and shoving it on me roughly, causing me to take a step backward.

“I’m not—” I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of following any of his orders, but he cuts me off by lifting me up in his arms and setting me down on the granite countertop. He pushes my thighs apart to step closer to me. The roughness of his jeans bites my sensitive skin, and I brace myself for whatever is about to come next. I can tell by the way he slips the shirt on my shoulders and glides my arms through the holes that he’s forcing himself to be gentle with me right now. I didn’t know Mason Slade knew how to be gentle for any reason, and I hate myself for the way the rough pads of his fingertips are sliding across my skin has butterflies in my stomach raging like a stupid girl with a crush instead of a woman who knows he’s no good for me. He doesn’t move to back away from me, but instead, he grabs my jaw with the same restraint he used to cover me in his shirt and leans down to press his lips to mine.

I want to push him away, beat against his chest and tell him that he’s too late. I’ve made my choice and I don’t want either one of them, but nothing comes out of my mouth. I sink into the kiss, and he lifts my arms to snake around his neck.

“Touch me,” he rasps out, and it sounds more like a plea than his usual demanding tone. That’s all it takes for me to melt into him, letting my fingers weave through the hair at the base of his head. His tongue snakes between my lips and slides against my own and his hands slide up my thighs so fluidly before sliding his shirt up so he can grip my hips that a needy moan escapes my mouth.

He pulls away long enough to growl, “Make that fucking sound again.” I feel my face heat with embarrassment and the lust in his eyes has all of the words I want to retort stuck in my throat.

“Playing with her mind is my job, Mase.” I feel like a bucket of ice was just dumped on my head when I hear Bennett’s cold tone. Of course, he’s right. Mason is doing whatever he can to make me choose him over his brother. I hadn’t expected it out of him because Bennett is right, he’s the one I would have thought would try to lull me into a false sense of security.

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t have to pretend to be anything I’m not, unlike you,” Mason snaps, and his grip only tightens when my whole body stiffens.

“Let me go,” I say, and I hate that my voice is shaking because it makes me sound meek and really, I’m filled with rage.

“No,” both Mason and Bennett bite out the word at the same time.

“YES,” I say loudly, shoving hard against Mason, but he doesn’t budge.

Bennett advances, eyeing the warm shirt I’m still swaddled in, and I can see he’s having the same reaction that Mason had earlier. “You will do whatever we say, got it?”

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