Page 37 of Deadly Sacrifice

Asher tuts at me. “Unless you’d rather go pack your bags now and leave while you can?” he asks tauntingly, knowing full well that leaving isn’t an option for me. When I don’t have anything to say, he leans down, running his nose along the length of my neck, and then whispers in my ear, “That’s what I thought. Mine to play with however I want because whatever you’re here for is too important, right?” He chuckles, deep and vibrating against my skin, and then adds, “You’re going to wish you gave up and ran before I’m through with you.”

In the next breath, Asher pushes me away from him and I stumble, trying not to face plant on the hardwood. Some random frat guy walks by at that exact moment. He pauses, his light brown hair sticking up all over the place like he just woke up. “Need a hand, Ash?” he so generously offers while I glare and imagine his dick rotting off.

As I straighten up, Asher steps up beside me, draping his arm over my shoulders and yanking me firmly into his side. He grins down at me, as if he wasn’t just threatening me. “Nah, Brody. My girl just likes it rough sometimes. Don’t you, baby?”

I smile back, feeling a fire behind my eyes as I say, “You have no idea.”

Brody barks out a laugh, saluting Asher before wandering past us and down a hall.

When we’re alone once more, Asher grits his teeth, letting me go like I’ve got a disease. “Get your ass moving. Breakfast isn’t going to make itself.”

“Why don’t you just call me your slave and chain me up, you fucking asshole,” I mutter as I walk past him.

His response is faint with the growing distance between us, but it still has all my little hairs standing up. “I’d rather call you my pet and put a collar on you. Maybe then you’ll know where you belong.”

My steps falter, but I don’t give him any more of my attention. With my head held high, I enter the kitchen to find Creed and Griffin sitting at the island, both in similar states of attire to Asher. Creed has black joggers and a fitted black T-shirt on, showing off the lean, rippling muscles beneath. His hair is disheveled, like he’s been running his hands through it since he woke up, but his warm brown eyes are bright and alert, and focused on nothing but me. Griffin is wearing light gray sweatpants and a black zip-up hoodie that’s conveniently unzipped and showing off his chiseled abs. He’s got his curly hair down for once, and the light sandy locks kiss his sharp jaw and just barely fall over his broad shoulders, and suddenly I ache to tangle my fingers in it and pull.

I almost turn right back around and leave.

Even if Creed burned me and I’m trying to keep my relationship with Griffin on a strictly friend basis, they are an erotic sight. My panties might catch fire before I finish breakfast. But before I can flee like I so desperately want to, Asher comes in after me, rounding the island and taking a seat next to Griffin.

And the asshole of the year is unfortunately unbearably hot as well.

I think my brain melts a little while I look over the three of them, all casual in sweats and watching me like this is a totally normal morning.

“You’re drooling,” Creed purrs, smirking and licking his lips. “Maybe you’d rather skip breakfast and come upstairs with me?”

That breaks the spell.

I roll my eyes, pulling my hair back in a bun while I move through the kitchen to grab supplies. “What about washed-up Barbie? She wasn’t enough to sate your thirst?” I ask bitterly.

Asher sighs heavily, but Creed is noticeably silent. Yeah, that’s what I thought. I don’t turn back around to face them while I cook. Not once. I get the eggs scrambled, the bacon sizzling, and the toast thankfully not burned to a crisp, and I even cut up some fruit while I’m at it.

It’s not until everything is done and I’m getting it plated that Creed breaks the silence. “You free tonight, Ember?” he asks me as I put all the fruit in a big bowl and grab a serving spoon.

I don’t hear him. At least, I pretend not to. I grab the first plate and turn around with a smile, placing it in the middle for Griffin. He blinks his glacial blue eyes up at me like serving him first is some huge shock. I don’t see why though, since he’s easily my favorite out of this merry band of assholes. Well, to be fair, Griffin isn’t an asshole, but man, he keeps poor company.

As I turn around to get another plate, Creed says, “What about tomorrow?”

I stare at the plate in my hands, wondering if I could spit on it without getting caught. Doesn’t matter if it’s going to Asher or Creed. Both of them are testing me lately.

Creed, the tenacious fucker, clears his throat once, and then louder a second time when he doesn’t get the reaction he wants. Finally, I turn and give him my attention, slowly pushing his plate to him. He flashes me a megawatt smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I reply stiffly. I grab Asher’s plate next, and barely restrain from chucking it at his face.

“It’s not poisoned, is it, pet?” Asher teases, arching a brow and wearing the kind of cocky smile that I want to punch right off his smug face.

Resting my hip against the counter, I cross my arms over my chest and shrug. “Thought you were going to buy me a collar first, sir?” My voice is sultry and smooth, and I wear my best innocent doe eyes.

If he wants to push me, I can push right back. And from the looks of it, I’m winning this round.

Asher’s jaw flexes while he drags his eyes down to my throat like he’s imagining a collar there now. Griffin’s hand pauses on the way to his mouth, as if his muscles have locked up. Creed coughs on the gulp of water he just downed, blinking hard while he flicks his gaze from me to Asher and back.

A slow smile pulls up my lips. I point back to the mess from cooking, and say, “I’ll leave that to you boys. I’ve gotta run.” Then, just because I can, I wink at Griffin and pointedly ignore the other two.

I almost laugh on my way out when I hear Creed say, “Holy shit, anyone else hard right now?”

Dumb asses.

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