In Peace Lies Havoc (Midnight Mayhem #1)(58)

I think over what he’s saying. Obviously. “But I don’t really want to go to a house party.”

Killian laughs. “Well, you have no choice.”

He leaves, and I’m left sitting on my bed, with aching muscles and a confused brain. Why would we be attending a party in Texas? For some reason, I don’t think these boys make friends with just anybody.

Once I’ve thrown on a discarded shirt, I stumble outside of my room and head straight for the coffee pot, pouring the black java into my mug.

“You’re up early,” Kyrin purrs from behind me, shocking me into turning around.

“I’m not—no.” Keaton shakes his head while walking down the stairs. “I didn’t want to hear what I heard last night.” Keaton, this scary, heavily tattooed and muscled man, looks like he has seen a ghost.

“Oh, soooo, you guys are allowed to, but I’m not?” I ask, one eyebrow quirked.

“First of all, we don’t bring girls back here—period,” Keaton clarifies. “Second of all, we’re not fucking each other either.”

“I mean, not from a lack of me trying.” Kyrin grins at Keaton.

Keaton flips him off and drops down onto the chair beside me.

“Ah.” I scoff. “Ya do. It was just a few nights ago I witnessed it myself.” Before I can stop myself, the words are spilling out of my mouth.

“What are you talking about?” Keaton answers, shaking his protein shake. “We don’t bring girls here. It’s against our house rules.”

“She’s talking about Val,” King chimes in, waltzing into the kitchen with no shirt on and with freshly fucked hair. He cuts me with a stare that pretty much translates into who the fuck are you? Which, again, confuses me. Or maybe he’s mad at me for bringing up Val.

“You brought Val into your bed? I thought you didn’t hit that anymore.” Keaton glares at King as Killian finally enters.

King stares at me. When I say stare, I mean, he’s looking directly into my soul. It’s as though he’s reaching through my body and grabbing it by his bare hands. Like he damn well owns it. “And I don’t.”

His words should relax me, but the intensity of his eyes and the tone of his voice flip my belly upside down.

I switch gears, wanting to change the subject, and take some heat off myself. “So, this party?”

Killian smirks, leaning back in his chair. His dark hair dances in the soft wind that blows through the RV as someone opens the main door. “Well, it’s a little more than a party.”

“Dude, I’m going to need all of you to stop talking until at least midday.” Maya walks in, massaging her temples while wearing oversized glasses and her hair in a mane all over her face. “Tell me that I’m not the only one who drank until the early hours of the morning.”

Silence falls around us when I push back from my chair. “What time are we leaving?” I ask no one in particular.

Maya interrupts me, “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere,” Killian cuts her off.

Her eyes connect up at his from behind her glasses, and I watch as his hand curls around her chin, his thumb caressing it. “We’re just taking Dove for a ride.”

“That’s all you needed to say, Kill. You don’t need to be all nowhere.” I offer her a polite smile before I make my way into my room, pulling open my closet. I have no idea what I should wear, so I settle on something I would wear if I was at home. My comfort clothing. The clothes I’d like to die in. Wait. I shouldn’t say that where these boys are concerned. High-waisted ripped jean shorts and a loose white Givenchy tee. I tie it in a knot in the middle, so it rides above my lower belly. Showing enough, but not too much. Like a sliver of skin. Squeezing on my maroon Chucks, I run my brush through my long waves and powder up my face a bit before picking up my sunglasses and wallet and making my way out to the kitchen to wait on the boys. I haven’t had to use the card King gave me yet—mainly because I haven’t been anywhere—but it’s good to know that if I need to, I have money there that I’ve somewhat worked for. I downloaded the app yesterday, too, so it’s easy enough for me to access when needed.

King is still on the table eating when I reappear. “You’re not changed?” I ask, cocking my head.

He licks his lip, shaking his head. “Nope. You goin’ like that?” I look down at what I’m wearing, feeling thrown off.

My eyes connect back to his. “Yeah, why?”

He shrugs. “No reason.” Standing from his chair, I watch as he empties the rest of his food into the trash and then rinses his plate. “If I was a good man, Dove, I’d warn you about today.” His tone is smooth, like ice, right before it cracks and creates an avalanche.

“And are you?” I ponder aloud, my eyes never shifting from him. His back muscles tense, and I have to fight the urge to go toward him and run my fingertips over every edge. Every dip and curve that’s indented into his skin. Vivid images flash through my head of what happened last night. My mouth waters with what I still want to do to him… My tongue tracing his V, down, sucking on his skin all the way until I lick the edges of his pierced cock.

My thighs clench. I’m definitely needing to do that…

“Little Bird,” King interrupts my happy daydream. I find him staring directly at me now, leaning against the counter. “If you keep looking at me like that, we will both end up dead.”