by Tate James
“Just cleaning up a bit,” he murmured, giving me a small smile. “It's sort of the least we can do, right?”
“Oh.” I was stunned. It was actually a really thoughtful thing for him to do. Didn't come anywhere close to making up for everything that his dodgy plumbing team had caused, but it was a start.
“I can only really clean up a bit, but when the others get back we can fix most of the damage together.” Shane shrugged, like it was no big thing, but my resolve to ditch their fine asses ASAP was weakening a little.
“You can do that?” I was suitably impressed and Shane just nodded, his attention on the flying bits of shit as he directed them back where they belonged or into small piles to be dealt with later. “So … could you fix up the rest of my house? Seeing as you're not paying any rent …” Maybe these handymen would turn out to be handy after all?
“Yes … but it couldn't be in place of rent. We're not allowed to work in any trade other than plumbing, so it'd have to be simply improving our own home—which is allowed.” He turned his curious, denim blue eyes my way. “So, Arizona Smoke … are you asking us to officially move in with you?”
Oh flaming dingo shit, I'm going to live to regret this.
“Yes …?” It came out as a question, because I couldn't believe what I was actually saying. Just minutes ago I was thinking about the quickest way to get the fuck out of dodge, and now I was asking the source of all my troubles to freaking move in with me … permanently… I must be going barmy.
“Well, we accept.” He grinned, then grabbed my face in one huge palm and sealed the deal with a hot, wet kiss. His mouth slanted across mine as his tongue slipped in, tasting like Johnnie Walker Double Black and sweet tea. No wonder my resolve was crumbling so hard, with kisses like that.
“Shouldn't you discuss this with your ahh crew?” I asked, pulling away from his kiss in an effort to regain a bit of mental fortitude.
“My crew?” he snickered, rubbing a tattooed hand over the lower half of his face. “You mean my quad? Well, technically quint now that you're a part of it.”
I decided to ignore the last part of that statement, clutching the sheet and my crumpled clothes against my chest.
“No, I mean your plumbing crew. But same same, whatever.” I certainly wasn't admitting I'd just forgotten the word for their collective.
“Silly sugar plum,” he chuckled, planting another kiss on my lips. This time it was just a sweet, gentle meeting of mouths before he pulled back and met my gaze. “I know you're new to all of this, but as far as my quad is concerned, we're married now.”
“All of us?” I squeaked, my chest tight. Why this sent me into a panic worse than the prospect of a gangbang had, I do not know.
“You know it, wifey,” Billy answered from where he stood propped against the door frame, “and as my first husbandly duty, I have ordered us pizzas. Figured you might be … famished … after last night's activities.” His smoldering stare said everything I needed to know about where he thought the rest of the day might be heading. And damn if my greedy cunt didn't want to agree with him.
Down girl, I scolded myself and calmly made my way to the newly repaired bathroom across the hall. I was, however, careful to make sure I locked the door behind me. The runes the boys had drawn all over my skin were still glittering faintly, and I worried they were having some influence over my actions.
Had I known then, what was to come, I would have made the most of the little magical buzz we were riding. More fool me.
Reg and George arrived home with a bang. Literally. I thought Reg was about to take my entire damn door off he kicked it that hard.
“Chat went well with Charlie then?” Shane asked in a dry tone, while Billy smothered a smile behind a slice of cold pizza. He'd ordered enough for everyone, but when the other two hadn't returned home after a couple of hours we'd decided to eat it ourselves.
As far as Britt was concerned, she was still fast asleep upstairs, drooling all over one of the shiny pink pillows she'd brought with her—I'd checked. When I'd tried to wake her earlier, she'd slapped me away and mentioned something about needing the extra z's to heal from her fight with the incubus. Whatever.
Surprisingly, I'd managed to keep my hands off both sinfully sexy plumbers while they combined their air and fire talents to do a bit of repairing around my beautiful old home. Mainly just in securing the tin ceiling tiles that had so nearly decapitated me just the day before. Now that I thought about the moment objectively, I blamed Gram's ghost.
“As well as can be expected,” George answered for Reg, who looked like he was having a hard time controlling his rage. He stalked back and forth across the floral print carpet of my living room, his fists clenching and unclenching in time with his jaw.
“So … what does that mean?” I asked. Clearly I was the only one here that couldn't read minds, because I had no idea how well Reg and his father got along.
“He wants us to formally present you to the COCS head.” Reg spat the words with disgust, stopping his pacing and staring hard at me.
“Umm …” Come on, was I seriously the only one that just heard Reg say I needed presenting to the cock's head?
“Committee of Combined Supernaturals,” Shane reminded me, rolling his beautiful blue eyes. “Honestly, honey doll, it seems like we're becoming a bad influence on you.”
“Bad influence? Have you met Britt yet?” I asked, popping out my hip and planting a fist on it. Speak of the devil …
“Jesus Christ,” she said, in that usual proprietorial way of hers, “how long did you guys fuck for? I mean, the noise of those springs. Next time you plan on doing it all night, can you get a hotel room or something?”
She waltzed past us and into the kitchen wearing nothing but a pink thong and see-through babydoll nightie. Fortunately for all four guys, they didn’t so much as glance at her. Lucky them. I was feeling as possessive as Billy had looked last night.
Even though I hated these guys and was totally going to try to eradicate them completely from my life, I felt ... slightly jealous at the thought of Britt getting any action with them. I mean, that’s just simple girlfriend etiquette, right? Never scoop up your sister’s sloppy seconds.
“Congratulations on being marked!” she shouted out just seconds before I heard the distinct sound of a wine bottle being corked.
If I’d been a werewolf, my ears would’ve pricked up. I could recognize that sound anywhere.
Note to self: maybe look into attending some sort of meeting after all this supernatural business is done and over with.
“Why would I need to see a COCS head?” I asked and then sniggered, taking a bite of the cheese pizza in my hand.
“Besides the obvious reasons?” Billy asked, lifting his brows and giving me another of those stupid you are mine asshole looks. “Just to keep the peace, prove that you’re now marked and one of us so they can get off our dicks—and so you can climb right back on.”
“Wow,” I said, lifting my brows and giving him a look. “I thought you were better than Reg, but really, you’re just as big of a slut as he is.”
Reg didn’t take the bait, heading up the stairs and slamming one of the doors loud enough that it echoed around the entire house.
“He okay?” I asked, but George just shrugged.
“Give him twenty and he’ll forget what it was he was even angry about in the first place.”
Sitting down on the edge of the couch, I watched Britt flounce into the room with her nipples showing through her nightie. She deserved a purple nurple for that …
“Isn't COCS the same group of people that tried to kidnap me and kill Britt yesterday?” I asked, pausing to chew my food and take another bite.
“Yup,” Billy said, rubbing at the flames tattooed onto the right side of his neck with an inked hand. He didn't have nearly as much ink as either Shane or Reg, just a few well-placed designs, but add in the stubbled masculine jaw, the charcoal hair, and those abs ... he had the bad boy lo
ok down pat. “Same, same. But you're marked now, so you know, they won't try to kill you this time.”
I narrowed my eyes and continued scarfing down my food, but I didn't correct Billy in that technically, the one pervy incubi stopped the other pervy incubi from killing me yesterday—they hadn't exactly wanted me dead.
I smelled another rat.
“You seem to know each other pretty well,” I said instead, telling myself that I’d pack up and head into the city to see Siobhan after I asked a couple of questions, for informational purposes only of course. It’s not like I was developing crushes on these assholes. No way, not even if they claimed we were ‘married’ now.
Lifting up a hand, I glanced at the runes on my arms and wondered when they were going to fade.
“Well, we’ve known each other our whole lives,” George said, giving the pizza a careful look and then almost reluctantly extracting a slice from the box. “As soon as four compatible elements in an area are born, they’re put together into a quad. Reg is the youngest, so the rest of us were sent to live with Charlie and his family. They basically raised us.”
“So … you’re like brothers then?” I asked, wondering if it was creepy that they were all, you know, inside of me last night. Speaking of, showering this morning was a bitch. There was an awful lot of cleanup.
“Brothers?” George asked, giving me a weird look. “No. More like lovers.”
“Lovers?” I asked, the word coming out in a squeak. I mean, not that I cared, but …really? “You four?” I glanced between George, Shane … and Billy. “You suck dicks, Billy?” I said, just trying to clarify. He didn’t really seem like the dick sucking type to me.
“No,” he said, glaring at me. For what reason, I wasn’t sure. But whatever. Screw him. “But I sure as hell hope that you do.”
I threw my pizza crust at him and turned to Shane.
“Lovers? Like … you’re polyamorous or something?”
“More like …” Shane started, glancing up at the ceiling. “We’re together for life, and on the sliding scale o’ sexuality, we’re all at least ten percent bi.” He shrugged his broad shoulders, dropping his azure gaze to mine. “Trust me, sug, we’ve been looking for the right woman for a long, long fuckin’ time. We’d much rather please a woman.”
“Oh, no,” I said, shaking my head and wondering if I was simply fighting the inevitable. I’d known these guys for all of two days and they felt like old friends. I should probably just listen to my ovaries and start dating them, just to see what might happen. But no. Nope. Stubborn is as stubborn does, okay? I had to at least make a show of it. “I am not that right woman, no way. I said you could move in, not have my hand in marriage. We are clearing up all of this, you know, this.” I gestured at the glimmering runes on my body, the streaks of blue and green, white and red, trails of elemental magic left by the guys. I looked like I’d been tattooed like my favorite rockstar, Paxton Blackwell—color from head to fucking toe.
“Clearing up?” George asked, and he raked his fingers through his brown hair before chucking a worried gaze in Shane’s direction. “She thinks it’s coming off, Skeeter.”
“Think … what’s … coming off,” I whispered, my mouth and throat already dry. “I’m not really liking that statement, George.”
“Arizona,” he said, and I tried not to like the way my full name rolled off his sexy lips. “The runes are permanent.”
“Oh, snap,” Britt said, making me jump. For the first time in what was probably her entire life, she’d been quiet for more than two seconds and I’d forgotten she was there. “You really are screwed”—she paused to give me a lascivious leer—“blued, and tattooed, Ari.”
“How the fuck am I supposed to get a job when my entire body is covered in glimmering runes?!” I shouted, standing up and ignoring that sweet carnal soreness between my thighs.
“A job?” George asked, still sounding confused. “Arizona, you’re our mate. We’re supposed to take care of you; you don’t have to work.”
I couldn’t decide if that was … old-fashioned and sexist, adorable as all fucking hell, or stupid because not a one of these four bums had money and they were all living in my crumbling old house.
“Except you're forgetting just one goddamn thing here,” I growled, my anger spiking again and setting the runes—or fuck, tattoos—sparkling and shimmering.
“What's that, honey doll?“ Shane drawled. The stubborn set to his gaze told me he was supremely confident in this idea of them 'looking after me' like I was some thirties housewife. Fuck them, if they thought they'd be coming home to a hand cooked meal and sparkling house every night. I couldn't cook for shit.
“You're all broke ass motherfuckers! You can't even support yourselves!” I snapped the words at them and had the satisfaction of seeing Shane's cocky expression slip a tiny bit.
“That's irrelevant now,” George helpfully responded. “Now that we've completed our quint, we're entitled to a certain cut of the plumbing contracts.”
“Why?” Britt asked, cocking her head to the side like a slutty spaniel.
“Why?” George repeated, looking a bit confused. “Because we have a wife to care for now. Charlie can't edge us out of the market now because our women are so priceless. We're honor bound to do everything in our power to give them a comfortable life.”
“Cool.” Britt nodded. “Don't suppose you have any other woman-less friends that like it doggy-style?” She threw George a saucy wink, but I knew my bestie, and she wasn't kidding.
There was a brief pause where no one quite knew what to say back to her and then Shane turned to George, changing the subject.
“So when are we due at this meeting with the Head?” he asked, his confident drawl back in place. Casually, he trailed a finger down my arm, tracing over the air runes and making my whole body break out in gooseflesh.
“Tonight,” George said, checking his wooden Fossil watch. “Seeing as it's now almost mid-morning, Arizona will need to get a dress. You know how formal these things are …”
Shane grunted, clearly not a fan of formal events.
“I'll take her shopping,” Billy volunteered, making everyone stare at him in surprise.
“Ah no,” Britt snapped, “if anyone is taking little miss jeans over here shopping for a dress, it would be moi.”
“You can come along, if you want, but it needs to be a very specific sort of dress. So you'll need one of us to make sure it's ... appropriate,” Billy informed my indignant bestie while simultaneously casting me a come-hither look.
“Oh, well. Fine. But I'm coming,” she sniffed. “Not like I'm getting to come any other way. Girl, are you sure you need all four of these hunky meat sticks?”
Possessiveness flooded me like someone had just run over a fire hydrant and I had to clench my teeth to keep from snapping at my bestie. Clearly, my ride or die bitch was just joking—she'd never take a man that I was even remotely interested in, not even if he begged.
“Whoa, girl,” Britt whispered, her eyes wide as she noticed the tightness of my jaw and the fact that my fingers were curled into fists. Guess magic really was involved in that ritual last night because I was acting like a serious crazy person. “Your stance is like, way aggressive—and trust me, I know body language. Part wolf, remember? Anyway, I thought you were dumping their asses as soon as you were safe from the executioners?”
“Firebug can't help it,” Billy said with a smug look on his devilishly handsome face. “She's had a taste of the quad and now she's addicted.”
“Ugh, whatever. Let’s go get this fucking dress.” I threw my hands up and headed into the kitchen to find wherever Britt had left my keys. Billy had said it needed to be a specific sort of dress, and I had the sinking feeling that specific meant slutty.
Whatever it took to get this magic mess sorted, so be it. Surely whatever Billy selected wouldn't be that bad … right?
George ended up tagging along on our shopping trip, so it was a good thing we took
my hearse. Years ago when I first bought the morbid vehicle, I had added some extra seats into the ah, coffin area, so there was plenty of space for all four of us.
Billy directed us to a fancy looking boutique on the main street of town, which I hadn't been into yet. Since moving here, I'd spent most of my time taking care of Gram, then planning her funeral after she was gone, and then trying to recover from the stress of it all. Just as I was starting to feel like myself again, the plumbing packed its shit in so I really hadn't checked out the shops at all.
“Well this doesn't look so bad,” Britt murmured, echoing my thoughts as we entered the shop. “The way he said specific I was imagining some sort of like ... leather bondage type getup. Which like, don't get me wrong, you'd still look smoking in.” She gave me a long look, and I just knew she was picturing me dressed like that. Dirty bitch.
She was right though—the store seemed like a totally normal, upscale fashion boutique. Billy was at the counter, speaking with the shop assistant who was giggling like a hyena and twirling her greasy hair around her finger.
That same flare of possessive anger swept through me as I watched Billy lean on the counter, giving her sexy bedroom eyes. Those were my sexy bedroom eyes, god-fucking-damn it!
“Relax,” George murmured, placing a calming hand on my arm before I could leap at the ratty looking slut and tear her fucking eyes out, “she's a sewer troll. He would never go there. He's just getting any new supernatural news. Everyone knows sewer trolls have all the best gossip.”
“What the fuck is a sewer troll?!” I whisper-snarled back, but George just smiled like he thought I was playing around. These boys had a tendency to forget that before all this shit, I'd been a normal human. And like, sewer trolls weren't exactly part of the cast in The Lord of the Rings so I didn't have much reference material to go off.
Britt, the bitch, snickered at my scowling face and flipped her hair before wandering off to look at clothes. My feet stayed glued to the spot though, watching Billy flirt, until he finally turned back to us and nodded his head to the heavy velvet curtain behind the cashier's desk.
