Hannaford Prep: The Complete Series

by J Bree

  Her father had been called away for business at the last minute before their trip to Amsterdam for Joey’s birthday, so they had enjoyed their trip with their father’s staff instead. Avery had paid off two of the bodyguards to keep Joey away from Ash, and the twins had enjoyed the break. They had arrived back in the states two days ago and were already packing to move into the townhouse here in the Bay.

  Only Blaise is stuck away from us all until school goes back in two weeks.

  I am fucking worried about the cocky asshole but I have no clue about how to deal with rich, emotionally fucked, dickhead parents.

  I yawn and rub my eyes. Harley kisses my temple and says, “C’mon, I’ll get this cleaned up and we can go to bed.”

  I freeze and he scoffs at me, like my reactions are so fucking amusing.

  “I’ve already told you, I don’t have to sleep in your bed with you,” he huffs at me and grabs my plate. I argue with him over the dishes until he snaps at me, “You cooked so I clean, get the fuck over it.”

  I move to sit at the bench, and fidget while I watch him clean. He doesn’t look at me but he has extra senses or some shit because after I’ve agonized over the bed situation for ten minutes and find myself jittery, he says, “Look, I get you’re probably gonna have issues—”

  “Why I am gonna have issues?” I snap.

  He cuts me a stern look. “You’ve been living under the threat of rape for years and from multiple fucking sources. I’m sure that would make anyone jumpy. I’m not in a rush. The other two will take it slow, especially if you tell them why. Calm the fuck down.”

  I squirm and bite my nails while he washes the dishes. “I’m not scared.”

  “I didn’t say you were. Pretty sure I said jumpy.”

  I roll my eyes at him. “It wasn’t just the Jackal that stopped me. I’m not interested in casual, never have been and never will be. I didn’t want to just fuck guys.”

  Harley scrubs the pots in silence and I watch him while I try to figure out how the fuck to say it. When he moves on to wipe down the bench, with such thoroughness I know he’s been trained well by Avery, he says, “Are you asking me if I think this is casual? Because, fuck Mounty, I’m kind of hoping you already know how serious we’re all taking this.”

  I swallow. “Knowing something in your head is very different to letting… letting yourself really believe it. I guess, I still kind of think this is all going to blow up in my face.”

  Harley nods and wipes his hands before walking around the bench and gently prying my legs open to stand between them. He waits for a moment until the tension melts out of me, then I shiver as he leans down and cups my face gently, breathing the words onto my lips as he speaks. “I’m keeping you forever. I don’t do this shit for anything but keeps.” And then he swallows my answering sigh.

  I missed this. I missed the feeling of his lips on mine and his hands holding my face like I’m everything to him and that alone breaks the hold of the Wolf on me. I wrap my legs around his hips and pull him closer; he never fucking gets close enough to me. I wonder if I’ll still feel that way when we do have sex. I shiver at the thought and moan into the kiss, sucking on his tongue for more.

  Harley breaks away and groans at me, “You kiss me like you want to fucking consume me.”

  “Maybe I will.” I tease, smiling and rubbing myself against his chest in a very non-Lips manner. When he groans again and pulls my hips flush with his, grinding his dick into me, I mentally high-five myself for the move. Another yawn takes over me and he chuckles.

  He hooks his arms under my legs to cup my ass in his big hands, squeezing as he lifts me up and presses me against his chest. “I’ll tuck you into bed, babe. I’ll go take a cold shower.”

  I clear my throat but it doesn’t stop my voice from coming out as a rasp. “Sleep in my… our bed. The other one is for Avery. We can figure out the specifics when the others get here.”

  Chapter Two

  Waking up to Harley’s hands stroking over my body is possibly the best fucking feeling in the world. The sun is streaming through the cracks in the blinds and it must be at least midday. I stretch out my back and Harley mumbles under his breath appreciatively as the move pushes my ass up towards his hand.

  He strokes down my spine and gets so close to cupping my ass then moves away to start back up between my shoulders again. I grunt and open my eyes to glare at him. “Don’t be a tease.”

  He smirks. “I’m going slow, Mounty, don’t be greedy.”

  It might be the work of his hands, or maybe it’s the decent sleep I’ve finally had after weeks of shit, but I turn my face into his chest and bite him. Not hard, but enough to get his attention.

  “Fuck me, Mounty, you start biting me and I will bite you the fuck back.” His voice rumbles and I grin at him.

  He shakes his head at me. “Last night you were looking at me like you’d rather jump out of the window than touch me, and now you’re grinning at me like you want to spend the day naked in this bed with me. I don’t know what the fuck to do with you. I’ve wanted you for so fucking long, and I’m not messing this up by pushing you.”

  I cringe and pull away from him. “I don’t mean to look at you like that. It’s hard to switch between Lips and the Wolf. I don’t… touch easy. This is new to me. Fuck, it took me weeks of being around Avery before I got used to her touching me all the time. The first time she hugged me I nearly jumped out of my skin. And… I don’t want to talk about it, I don’t want to piss you off, but before Hannaford, I was only ever touched when people were hurting me.” I clear my throat to shift the lump there. Fuck me, I’ve caught the self-pity bug again. I change topics to try to clear the stain my confession has left in the air.

  “Why didn't you tell me? If you had been wanting me for as long as you say you have, then why not just tell me?”

  He groans at me and rubs his face with one of his big palms. He gives me a look from the corner of his eye and then sighs. It's weird to see him unsure of himself.

  “I've never had a girlfriend or asked someone out.”

  I snort at him, graceful as ever. “Fuck off. I've seen you blow a load on Annabelle’s face, don't start bullshitting me now, Arbour.”

  He smirks at me probably remembering the intense eye contact in the woodland area while he’d gotten off. “I’m not saying I've never fucked girls before, I'm saying I've never wanted a girl as a… permanent thing.”

  A permanent thing. What an eloquent way to describe what we all have now. I stare at him until he groans again and continues.

  “Look, I was fucking terrified of how I felt about you. I still am, if I'm honest. My circle is small for a reason; I don't trust people and I don't like them. And then you walked into that fucking school with your head high and mouth running, and I just… I love it. I love everything you do, you draw me in and I can't get my eyes off of you. I didn't know how to talk to you without you thinking I was like every other dickhead there trying to win that fucking bet.”

  I nod. I’ve spent the weeks we’ve been apart stewing on this… relationship we now have, and I’m both excited and terrified by it. I like being a part of the ‘family’. I don’t want jealousy and relationship drama to ruin what we have. “I just don’t understand how you went from wanting to rip Blaise’s and Ash’s heads off to not giving a shit about… sharing me.”

  He blows out a breath and scrubs his hand over his face. “It wasn’t about them being with you. It was about whether I would get to have you.”

  He pulls away and sits on the edge of the bed, like he doesn’t want to look at me while he speaks. I hesitate for a second and then tuck myself against his back, my arms and legs wrapped around him. He traces the scar on my ruined leg with a finger idly.

  “I thought you would only pick one of us and I couldn’t deal with it not being me. We’re not normal. The three of us are so fucking messed up from everything we’ve had to deal with and we’re never going to be normal. Sharing you isn’t even in t
he top five of weird shit we’ve done.” He chuckles under his breath and I squeeze him.

  I get the feeling this is his little declaration, like the one I made to Ash before we left school. This is him telling me he’s not whole and being with him is not the easy option.

  He has no reason to worry.

  I don’t do easy.

  “I think it’ll take all three of us to keep you safe, keep you alive. Fuck, the three of us and Floss, and maybe even then this fucking world you rule could take you out. I can’t let that happen, Mounty. Sitting in that car with the Jackal proved to me that we need to get you out of here. Being stuck up the coast without you has been fucking hell.”

  We fall quiet while we both think about the consequences of what happened. He’d only planned to stay up there for two weeks to see his mom but I’d called his hotel to extend his stay and keep him the hell away from the Jackal. He’d fought me on it and I was forced to call Avery to talk some sense into him. Once he finally agreed, I’d sent Illi up there to watch his back. Something I will never tell Harley because it would piss him the fuck off. I know for a fact these guys have no idea of the hell that has just arrived on our doorstep. Fuck me.

  Harley gets up and promises me French toast if I get some more sleep, claiming the dark circles under my eyes are still there and he won’t let me out of bed until they’re gone. Bossy, irresistible asshole. He takes the ‘Stang to the grocery store and I’m a little worried about how much food he’ll bring home.

  I wake an hour later to my phone pinging and I search the sheets to find it. I groan at the text. It’s from Harley to the new group text that doesn’t include Avery. The ‘joint relationship’ group. Sweet fucking lord. He’s just fucking broadcasted my untouched status to the other two without asking me because he’s an utter dick.

  The sound of tumblers of the front door unlock drifts to the bedroom followed by the rustling of the grocery bags. Then my phone pings with Ash’s reply.

  Explain. Now.

  “You asshole,” I yell out to him as I try to figure out how the fuck to explain this without tearing their arrogant heads off. Fucking lord.

  Any guy within the Jackal’s world knows they’re risking death if they touch me. I haven’t left Mounts Bay for anything other than school. I haven’t fucked anyone at Hannaford. Is that a good enough explanation?

  I swallow and punch my pillow. I hear Harley rummaging around, putting things away and getting out supplies for my breakfast. This had better be the best fucking French toast of my life. His phone pings out in the kitchen as mine buzzes in my hand.

  So you two haven’t fucked yet? How are those blue balls of yours, Arbour?

  I roll my eyes at Blaise and Harley replies.

  My balls are fine, how are yours, dickhead? Just thought I’d let you both know because the Mounty is jumpy as hell about it.

  That’s it, I’m killing the fucker.

  Ash please get Avery to start building my alibi. I’m stabbing your cousin.

  Harley snorts at me, loud enough that I hear it, and calls out, “Your knife is out here, what else would you do it with?”

  “I’m pretty fucking innovative when I need to be, Arbour!”

  I have to hold onto the photos for the Tiger for two days before I can deliver them to him in person. He’s vigilant to the point of madness and refuses to use even the most secure electronic file sharing options for the work I do for him. I’m forced to load them onto an USB and text him a meetup point at the docks. The Fox is hosting his usual summer party with live music, booze, drugs, and every Mounty under the age of fifty will be there. There’s nothing over the summer in the Bay bigger than this party.

  I tell Harley I’ll just pop in to drop the USB off and he looks at me like I’ve got a brain injury. So, I guess we’re going to the party together. Bad idea, it will be teeming with the Jackal’s men but there’s no talking him out of it.

  Which is how I find myself glaring at the bathroom mirror at eleven at night.

  The playsuit I’ve got on is one of my absolute favorites. It’s backless, and the top is a flowy halter-neck with a deep v. Like, so deep that you can see my belly button. The bottom half is short enough that I have to wear a thong so my underwear doesn’t peek out as I move. It’s sexy without showing too much ass or tits, just little glimpses. Compared to the other Mounty girls I’ll look like a freaking Amish girl. The problem with the outfit is that, with my new-and-improved boobs, I have to wear some stupid fucking adhesive bra and then tape the front of the playsuit down so I’m not going to have my tits out in the warehouse.

  I think Harley would have an aneurysm.

  I snap a photo and send it through to Avery. She answers immediately.

  Where the hell do you find these outfits? Is there a Chanel version? Also, I’m texting Harley and telling him to feed you more.

  I snort at her and send her a photo of my back for good measure. She video calls me back.

  “Where are you going? Has Harley seen that yet?”

  I shrug. “I’m finishing my last job. Harley knows the score, you can’t go to the docks without showing some skin.”

  Avery smirks at me and still manages to look like an evil queen while wearing her fluffy Chanel robe. “Oh, I’m sure he’s positively thrilled about it. Ash just took a call from him and they’re gossiping like housewives for their book club.”

  I snort at her and twirl to get a feel of how much movement I still have.

  She cackles down the phone. “I just saw a nipple so unless you want Harley ripping that off of you before you make it out the door you will need more tape.”

  I grimace and end the call, with Avery still sounding far too amused at my expense.

  Once I’ve taped what feels like every-fucking-thing down, I flounce out of the bathroom and stand in front of the full-length mirror in the living room. I dance around and shake my butt to make sure it’s secure, I even throw in a slut drop for good measure.

  I hear a strangled sort of noise and then a choking cough behind me.

  Harley is sitting at the bench looking fucking devastating in his dark jeans and tight white shirt. My breath catches in my chest for a second before I see the look in his eyes as he watches me. His laptop is still on the table but the screen has been turned around so Ash and Blaise can see my outfit. Ah. They’ve just been watching me dance Mounty-style. Oops. I give them a little awkward wave.

  “Fuck. Pick something else to wear.” chokes out Blaise and Ash snorts at him.

  “She can wear whatever the fuck she wants. Don’t be a dick.”

  Harley rubs the back of his neck and grumbles, “I’d prefer it if you wore a bra though. Fuck me, I’m going to be fucking busy tonight. One of you two will pay my bail, right?”

  Ash nods and waves a hand at me. “Do another one of those squat things. Slowly.”

  I blush and laugh at him. I go back to the bedroom and grab my phone, flicking through the songs until I find something with a decent beat to dance to. When I come back out Harley looks up at me and smirks when I start the song. He was born and bred in the Bay so he knows what’s coming. The other two have no clue how Mounties party.

  “No filming.” I warn him sternly and he holds up his hands in a mock surrender.

  It feels kind of strange to dance by myself, with three sets of eyes on me, but I’ve spent every summer in a party of some kind working and music lives in my soul. I shut my eyes and just let myself move with the music, not trying to be sexy or seductive, but knowing that to prim rich kids the Mounty-style will look fucking erotic.

  When the song finishes, I glance up and Harley is fucking sweating.

  Damn, does that make me feel good.

  Blaise is gaping at me and Ash looks ready to drive the fuck down here. I shiver, and only the thick silicone of the bra stops my hard nipples from being on display. Harley’s eyes darken dangerously as my thighs rub together.

  The knock at the door freezes me in place.

  Harley
glances away from me to frown at the sound and Ash swears viciously. I bend at the waist and motion for the two on the video call to stay silent, then I check the peephole. There’s a giant mass of tattooed muscle and silvery-blond hair standing on the doorstep.

  Sweet fucking lord.

  Harley is going to have a fucking aneurysm.

  I sigh and unlock the door. Before I open it, I meet Harley’s gaze over my shoulder and say, as calmly as I can, “I know you disagree with me, but I swear to you, he’s a good guy. I trust him. Just stay calm and hear him out. It must be important if he’s here.”

  And then Johnny Illium, the Butcher of the Bay, or just plain Illi to me, sweeps me into a bone-crushing hug. I do not care that he’s the most notorious cage fighter and enforcer-for-hire amongst the Twelve; I don’t do hugs.

  “Get the fuck off me, I’m not a hugger!” I gasp out and he grunts at me.

  “Neither am I. That’s from Odie. She told me to tell you to fucking call her, she misses listening to you bitch her out for doing things normal people do.” He drops me to the floor and kicks the door shut, flicking the lock like it’s his house to keep safe. Harley, honest to god, looks like he’s going to kill me and then himself.

  “This place is better than last year. You trying to impress your boyfriend?” Illi says, teasing like the ass he is, and sprawls himself down into one of the dining chairs like he’s a regular visitor to the townhouse. He wiggles his eyebrows at me in a way I’m sure he’s hoping will piss said boyfriend off.

  Harley does look fucking livid, and a little like he’s going to vomit. I wince. If the Wolf is whispered about on the streets of Mounts Bay, then the Butcher is the man screamed about at parties and bars when people want to instill fear on their audience of choice.