Beyond Vengeance: Pacific Prep #3

by R. A. Smyth

  He’s groaning in my ear, but the gullible asshole is so far gone thinking I’m as into this as he is that he doesn’t expect my sudden movement. Quick as lightning, I grab his wrist, and slam it against the bathroom wall. Not giving him a second to yank out of my tight grip, I slam my knife into his palm, driving it in all the way to the hilt, embedding it in the wall.

  He starts screaming bloody murder, and I know I have to get out of here ASAP.

  “You fucking, bitch. What did you do? My hand!” he wails.

  “Don’t touch what isn’t yours, you sick fuck,” I snarl, quickly running my hands under the tap to wash off the blood and wiping down my knife before tucking it back in my boot and making a hasty exit out of the bathroom.

  Trying not to draw suspicion, I move as quick as I can through the tables back toward Wilder.

  “We’ve gotta go,” I rush out, a hint of urgency in my tone.

  “Dad’s just paying—”

  “No, he’s not—”

  A high-pitched scream followed by a deep bellow rings out through the restaurant, and my eyes widen to saucers. “Let’s go.”

  Not needing any more of an explanation, Wilder jumps out of his seat. Pulling out his wallet, he drops a bunch of hundred-dollar notes on the table—way more than what the meal cost—and the two of us scurry out the door.

  “What do you know about the old deal that fell through between your dad and my parents?” I ask him as we climb into his gorgeous dark green mustang.

  He looks at me like I’m fucking insane, which is an interesting role reversal. Backing out of the parking space, he guns it toward campus. “You gonna tell me what happened in there?”

  “Only if you answer my question.”

  He laughs, shaking his head before getting serious.

  “I don’t know much about it. I know something happened on your parents’ end that caused it to fall through.”

  “When was the deal?” I ask, a sick pit opening in my stomach.

  “I dunno.” He shrugs. “Like fifteen, sixteen years ago?”

  “Right around the time I went missing,” I mumble to myself.

  “I guess so, why?”

  “Just something your dad said,” I respond vaguely, knowing I’ll have to give him more details soon, just not tonight. My head is a mess with everything, and as the stupid vibrations start up in my pussy again, the only thing I can think about is putting West’s tongue to good use when I get home.

  Sighing, I lean back in against the headrest, closing my eyes until Wilder snorts.

  “Let me guess, West?” He waggles his eyebrows, making it pretty obvious what he’s referring to.

  “What…” I splutter. “How?”

  He scoffs. “That guy loves control too much, of course he wasn’t going to send you out tonight without making sure you thought about him all evening.”

  “That obvious?” I can feel my cheeks burning, and it’s not from how turned on I am.

  “Ooh, yeah. You couldn’t sit still every time it started, and you barely ate a thing. I sit beside you at breakfast. I know how much you fucking love to eat.”

  Can’t argue that.

  He pulls into the student car park and we get out of the car.

  “Are you going to tell me what happened tonight?”

  I sigh. “Can we do it tomorrow? It’s nothing that can’t wait.”

  His gaze roams over my face in a rare moment of seriousness. “Yeah, sure. You probably can’t think with all those hormones floating about in your head anyway.”

  By the time I let myself into the guys’ apartment, the need for release is all-consuming. I can’t think about anything else, and when I spot West and Beck sitting, talking in the living room, desire so potent you can taste it in the air, courses through me.

  If I wasn’t so turned on, I’d be ecstatic to see the two of them sitting chatting to one another, but as it is, all I can think about is West’s hot mouth on my body as Beck’s dick drills into me.

  West must know where my thoughts are as he gives me a dirty smirk. “Have fun tonight?” he teases, heat flaring in his eyes.

  “I swear, West, if you don’t make me come right fucking now, I’m going to do it myself.”

  He growls as Beck’s head bounces back and forth between us, confusion and desire crossing his features.

  “Bedroom, now,” West barks, his dominant tone that he saves for the bedroom surprising Beck as his eyebrows climb up his head.

  I hesitate, looking at Beck, wondering if he’s going to join us. West must pick up on my hesitation, or see my need for both of them, as he turns to Beck.

  “Do you wanna come see just how wet our girl is from thinking about us all night?”

  Beck’s eyes darken and he smirks. “Lead the way, brother.”

  Oh, holy shit, I’m about to be the filling in a super fucking hot brother sandwich.

  We all pile into West’s bedroom, and I swear, my skin feels like it’s about to melt off my bones with the way they both look at me.

  “Out of those clothes, Firefly. Show us how much you need us.”

  Well, you don’t have to tell me twice. My movements are desperate, as I kick off my boots and throw off my clothes, until I’m standing naked before them.

  “Lie back on the bed. Spread your legs.”

  Doing as he says, I lie back, spreading my legs as wide as they can go so they can get a crystal clear look at my glistening wet pussy as I drip onto West’s sheets.

  “Fuck, she’s drenched,” Beck grunts in a gruff voice, adjusting himself in his jeans.

  I’m already panting heavily, but my head falls back and I moan to the ceiling as West starts up the demon device again, setting it at a more intense speed than it was at in the restaurant.

  “Did you think about us every time you wanted to come?” West’s silky voice flows over me, making my nipples pebble.

  “Yes,” I moan.

  “Did you touch yourself?”

  “No.”

  “Firefly,” he growls in a warning tone, promising me retribution if I lie to him right now.

  “I didn’t,” I groan. “I thought about it, but I didn’t.”

  “Good girl.” His praise makes me pant harder. I’m going to self-combust if I don’t come right now. I feel a wet tongue sliding through my folds, making me nearly jump off the bed at the titillating sensation, and I tear my half-lidded gaze away from the ceiling to watch Beck as he licks and sucks his way to my clit. His stubble rubs against my inner thighs, only pushing me closer to the edge.

  “Don’t come yet,” West growls from beside me, as if sensing how close I am.

  “West,” I plead.

  Beck laps at my clit and my legs quiver with the need to come. Just when I think I’m not going to be able to hold out any more, West barks out, “Come, baby,” and bright lights flash across my vision as I cry out, the buildup resulting in one of the most intense orgasms I’ve ever had.

  I sag against the mattress as Beck continues to lick and suck at my juices and West slowly rolls the vibrator down through the settings, easing me down from my release, until finally he turns it off, and Beck retrieves it from my overly sensitive pussy.

  “Firefly.” West’s husky voice has me leaning up on my elbows, ready for round two, even though I’m not sure my legs can even hold me up.

  Lifting his finger, he beckons me toward him. “Come here.”

  On shaky legs, I stand and move toward him, and he pushes me onto my knees in front of him. Slowly, he unbuckles his jeans and pushes them and his boxers down low on his hips so his dick springs out, bobbing in front of my face. I lick my lips, holding back the urge to lick him until he tells me to.

  Grabbing a hold of his long length, he pumps himself. Pre-cum beads on his tip, and he rubs it along my lips before pushing his way into my mouth. His eyes become hooded as he watches me take all of him until he hits the back of my throat. He holds himself there for a second before pulling back, repeating the movement ove
r and over as he slowly picks up speed.

  I swivel my tongue along his head and down his shaft with each movement, causing him to groan as heat gathers between my thighs. I move to touch myself, but fingers wrap firmly around my wrist, yanking my hand away.

  “Mine,” Beck growls, moving in behind me. I can feel his skin against mine. He must have removed his clothes at some point. His fingers move to rub my clit, and I moan around West’s shaft.

  Beck lifts me up slightly, lining his dick up with my entrance before pushing into me, and he and West quickly find a rhythm that has all three of us rushing toward the edge of the cliff.

  Cleaning up, the three of us collapse onto the bed. I can feel my eyes dropping as tiredness takes over.

  “Go to sleep, Firefly,” West murmurs.

  “You owe me at least three more orgasms,” I grumble, half asleep.

  I feel Beck chuckle behind me.

  “Plenty of time for that in the morning, sweetheart.”

  Well, okay then.

  Chapter 21

  A commotion the next morning pulls me out of my deep sleep, and I’m instantly annoyed that whoever is talking so loudly is disturbing my quiet time with West and Beck. I’ve definitely decided my new happy place is being snuggled between these two.

  “Where is she? Is she here?” I hear someone snapping from elsewhere in the apartment. “HADLEY!”

  Oh, damn. That’s Wilder.

  “What’s going on?” West mumbles as Beck yawns.

  I quickly scurry out from between the two of them, grabbing the first items of clothes I find—Beck’s t-shirt and West’s sweats—before yanking the door open and rushing down the hallway, to find Wilder facing off against Hawk and Mason, all three of them looking downright furious.

  “It’s the crack ass of dawn,” Cam grumbles, stumbling out of his room, still looking half asleep. “What are you two doing?”

  “You put a knife through my father’s hand?” Wilder barks when he spots me, making everyone else look in my direction as West and Beck come out of the room and join the party.

  “In fairness, he put his hands on me first.” I shrug.

  “He what?” several voices bellow, furious tones flying all over the place.

  “When were you going to tell us this?” Hawk snaps.

  “This morning, after I’d had coffee.”

  “You should have said something last night,” West argues, making me give him the stink eye. Maybe I would have, if I wasn’t so crazed out of my mind with need—need that he caused.

  “Let’s all sit down and we can talk about this,” Beck rationalizes, stepping around me and moving between Wilder and Hawk, glaring at both Hawk and Mason until they take a step back. Cam stomps over to the coffee maker, filling it up as the others claim their seats. Mason makes a point of dragging me into his lap, scowling over my head at Wilder, who promptly ignores him.

  “Did you finally get that release you needed last night, Sunshine?” Wilder winks, making Mason growl behind me.

  “I’m still a few releases short,” I admit. “Someone interrupted this morning.” I scowl at him, and he gives me an oopsies face—it’s literally the only way I can describe the look he’s sporting.

  Cam sets a tray of mugs on the coffee table for everyone to help themselves. Lifting two, he places a mug in my hands, kissing me on the forehead and mumbling a ‘good morning’ before sitting down beside Mason and I.

  “So, wanna explain what happened last night?” Hawk directs at me when we’re all seated and properly caffeinated.

  I take them through the previous evening’s events, only having to stop every few words when one of them curses up a storm. Finally we get through it, and everyone falls into silence, thinking through the various information drops.

  “You keep a knife in your boot?” Cam asks, sounding shocked, having picked up on what I would have classified as one of the least significant things I said, but whatever.

  “Yeah. Why, where do you keep yours?”

  He just looks at me like he doesn’t know whether to take me seriously or not, before mumbling something about not keeping a knife on his person.

  Hmm, we’ll have to sort that out. What idiot walks around unprotected?

  “So I’m guessing you spoke to your dad today?” I ask, looking at Wilder.

  “Yeah,” he grumbles, looking unimpressed. “He phoned me when he was released from the hospital this morning—at four a.m.” He glowers at me, likely not happy that the phone call disturbed his beauty sleep. Oopsies. “Going on about how he might need surgery.”

  I scoff. “Please, it was barely more than a flesh wound.”

  Wilder cocks an eyebrow. “You went right through his hand and out the other side.” Despite the harsh tone in his words, he sounds hella impressed. At least, I think he does. I’m going to pretend he does regardless.

  “Is that why you always insist on wearing those boots?” Cam questions, clearly still stuck on the whole knife-in-the-boot thing.

  “One of the reasons.”

  “What are the others?”

  “They’re comfy, and I know how to move silently in them.”

  “So it sounds like our parents agreed for you to be married off to Wilder when we were kids,” Hawk theorizes, his brow furrowed in thought.

  “Yeah, after he’d had his turn with me first.” I shiver in disgust, burrowing deeper into Mason's chest as he tightens his hold around me. I take comfort from the soft vibrations in his chest as he growls deep in his throat.

  “Did you know about that?” Hawk snaps, fixing Wilder with an intense, murderous look.

  He holds his hands up in surrender. “All I knew was that there was a contract drawn up and it fell through. I had no idea it included Hadley or I, or anything else.”

  “So what, he’s into little kids?” Cam scrunches his nose up, his face blanching at the thought.

  All of us look at Wilder for confirmation.

  “Honestly, it’s news to me if he does.”

  “How do you not know?” Hawk snaps, making Wilder quirk an eyebrow at him.

  “Do you know everything about your parents?”

  Well, he’s got a point there. Hawk seems to agree as he quickly shuts his mouth.

  “So what happened this morning?” I ask Wilder.

  “Nothing really. I don’t think he’ll be looking to spend much time with his new daughter-in-law.”

  Suits me fine.

  “He’s not breaking off the agreement?” I ask.

  “Nope. He didn’t even mention it. Whatever he’s getting out of it must be worth handing me over to a stabby psycho.” He waggles his eyebrows. “By the way, I’m all for knife play in the bedroom, Wifey.” He winks, even as the guys glower and curse him out, laughing like the crazy idiot he is before once again growing serious. “He’s signing the contract today.” His words settle in my stomach like lead as I glance nervously at the others. “Guess it’s about to be official, Wifey. We’re getting hitched.”

  ***

  Three days later—three fucking days—and I’m wearing a stupid-ass gown—okay, admittedly, it’s another gorgeous piece selected by West—walking into the Davenport house for my engagement party.

  My dress is a floor-length pale blue-gray that perfectly matches the color of my eyes, and rises high on the back, once again ensuring my scars are covered from prying eyes.

  My arm is linked with Wilder’s, just as Hawk, Mason, Cam and West form a protective circle around us, looking sharp as ever in their suits. Each one of them has something that matches my dress, be it their tie, handkerchief, cufflinks, or in Cam’s case, his shoelaces. It’s their silent way of letting me know they’re here for me, and my heart just about stuttered to a stop when I saw all of them lined up. I know Beck is here somewhere too, supporting me in his own, inconspicuous way.

  “Let’s get this show on the road,” Hawk huffs, straightening his suit jacket before moving away, weaving through the crowd as he makes his way to th
e bar.

  The other guys break away, going to mingle while ensuring they keep me in their sights.

  “Right,” Wilder starts, his gaze sweeping around the room before focusing on me, “which set of shitty parents should we tick off the list first. Yours or mine?”

  Ugh, what a crappy choice to choose between. “I’m sure my lovely mother will hunt us down pretty quickly.”

  “Bar it is then.”

  I laugh as he escorts me through the crowd. People constantly stop us, wishing us congratulations, starting up a conversation with Wilder and complimenting me on my dress, and it takes forever for us to reach our destination.

  Eventually we make it, and Wilder orders a scotch for himself and a water for me. I’m sipping on the drink, relishing the feeling of the cold liquid in my mouth, when I feel eyes on me. I knew it was only a matter of time until he sought me out, and I make sure my mask of indifference is firmly in place when I turn my head, searching through the crowd for Lawrence; only it’s not Lawrence that’s watching me. It’s Barton. What the fuck? He’s barely spared me a glance or said a word to me since I returned, so what’s with the creepy as fuck stalking now?

  We’ve just finished up our drinks when my mother spots us, piercing me with a stern look, like she knows I was deliberately avoiding her, as she marches toward us. “What are you doing, you should have found us as soon as you arrived,” she snaps in my ear before standing to her full height and plastering on a sweet smile. “Wilder, dear, don’t you look handsome as ever.”

  Wilder, the socialite suck-up that he is, laughs congenially. “Why thank you, Mrs. Davenport, but it’s all your lovely daughter’s doing. She makes me look good.”

  My mother’s smile tightens, neither confirming nor denying his statement. “My husband would like to say a few words, if you’d both follow me,” she says cordially, leading the way to the front of the room.