Chapter Thirty-three

RUE

B y the time Jameson is done with my makeup, I can only gape at the image in the mirror. It's both me and not. The bruises have vanished completely, like they never existed, and I'm almost afraid to touch my face and mess up the magic he wrought.

I look like a totally different person. Dark lines enhance my eyes, making the teal color appear almost otherworldly, and my cheeks are more pronounced, giving me a regal appearance. The red shimmer to my lips makes them appear lush, like I'm begging to be kissed.

"I look…pretty," I whisper in awe.

I want to ask him how he learned such unusual talent, but then a twinge of jealousy strikes hard and fast. With a mental shrug, I decide I really don't want to know and accept it as just part of the charm that is Jameson. I'm afraid if I discovered he learned it from some girl that I would be too tempted to wash it off, and I want to feel special and pretty for at least one day.

Jameson stands behind me, his hands on my shoulders, his expression soft as he peers down at me. "No, baby, you look gorgeous."

He kisses the top of my head reverently, then he drags his hand down my arm, links his hand with mine, and gently tugs me from the room. "Come, let us spoil you for the day."

After three hours of wandering from one store to the next, I'm beyond exhausted and ready to be done. I thought after spending my whole life alone that I would love being surrounded by people.

Yeah…not so much.

People are loud and annoying, not to mention rude and pushy as fuck.

Totally not how they appeared on the few television shows I watched.

It's so disappointing.

I'm more than ready to be done with shopping.

"One last store. I promise." Not waiting for my acceptance, Jameson drags me across the courtyard, stepping in front of couples like they don't exist. A few people open their mouths to complain, only to fall mute when they notice Gunner following behind me. A well-placed glare has even the stoutest man snapping his mouth shut, especially with the dark bruises still decorating his face.

I barely notice where he's leading me until the smell of paper and ink reaches my nose. I whirl, picking up my pace, and soon find myself surrounded by wall after amazing wall of books. Only educational materials were allowed in my room. While I snuck in the occasional contraband item, it was usually violently confiscated and destroyed before I was punished for my crimes.

To have such books available…

My breath catches, and I blink back tears, almost afraid to touch the spines for fear they would crumble to ash under my fingers.

"Can I help—Jameson? Jaceson?" The bored salesgirl switches from annoyed to sultry in less than a nanosecond. "What are you doing here? Did you come to see me?"

A knot twists my guts into a tangled mess, and it's all I can do not to look at the guys. Gunner quietly chuckles, then he sweeps an arm around my waist, tucks me against his side, and swiftly leads me away. Before we turn the corner, he leans down to whisper to me. I'm so distracted by his lips brushing my ear that I almost don't hear him.

"Don't worry, they can't stand Brenda, but she's like a barnacle once she latches on to you." He nudges me to the side, then adjusts the books on the shelves, removing a whole section for me to observe the guys in the next isle over. "Watch."

Unable to help myself, I do as instructed. Jaceson keeps his face impassive, remaining one step behind his brother, impatience tinging his pale blue eyes. It's Jameson that shocks me, however, since he's the biggest flirt on the planet. When the girl reaches for him, he slaps her hand away before she can touch him, a dark scowl twisting his features. "Why the fuck would we seek you out? We came for books. In a bookstore. Where they sell books."

Each phrase is spoken slowly, like he's explaining the concept to an idiot.

A bright red flush brightens the girl's cheeks. She looks ready to explode when an older guy wanders over. "Is there a problem?"

"That must be the manager," Gunner supplies, standing close as we watch the scene unfold, the big man easily able to see over the shelving.

"No, Mr. Jordan," Brenda says through gritted teeth. "Just helping these gentlemen find some books."

Mr. Jordan doesn't move, and Brenda huffs dramatically, rolling her eyes before turning back toward the boys. "What kind of books do you want?"

While her voice is chipper, it does nothing to disguise the sulky undertone.

"We're searching for books on the occult," Jaceson answers, and my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Our girlfriend is into this stuff, and we want to learn everything about it."

My heart turns to goo in my chest, and I'm uncertain if it's because they claimed me as their girlfriend in public or because they want to learn about my abilities.

An ugly expression twists the girl's features for a second, raging jealousy leaving her looking a bit psychotic, but she quickly smooths it out before anyone can see it.

Gunner remains behind me, pretending to look over the books on the top shelf, but he keeps me caged in, his arms on either side of my head. Instead of feeling trapped, my body tingles at his proximity. Part of me wants to press back against him, my body aching for his attention.

Indecision is the only thing stopping me.

What if I read the situation wrong?

A warm hand slips around my waist, pressing against my belly from my ribs to the waistband of my pants. I let instinct take over, allowing my weight to settle against his chest. He shuffles closer, nearly pinning me to the bookshelf.

"The books are right here," Brenda says, taking a few steps down the aisle to show a whole stand of books dedicated to the occult and witchcraft. When the manager walks off, Brenda's starchy attitude softens, and a determined glint enters her muddy brown eyes.

She leans against the bookshelf, her breasts thrust out, and runs her fingers along the spines suggestively. "If you tell me what you want, I'm sure I can help you find it."

I snort, rolling my eyes so hard that I'm surprised I don't hurt myself, and mutter under my breath, "Yeah, I'll bet she wants to help you find something."

Just as I tense, ready to storm over there, Gunner slowly drags his fingertips up and down my side, moving higher and higher with each pass. The boys are quickly forgotten. Fuck if breathing wasn't forgotten as well.

"Watch," Gunner whispers in my ear, the heat of him soaking into my skin. "If you're a good girl, maybe I'll reward you."

My breath explodes out of me in a rush, an achy need to be touched taking up residence in my soul. After a heartbeat, which feels like forever, I nod hesitantly.

"I think I know something you guys will like." Brenda smiles, then bends over, shoving her ass right against the guys' junk. I tense, ready to climb the shelves to claw out her stupid shit-colored eyes, when Gunner's hand slides lower.

"Nuh-uh," he murmurs in my ear, giving it a sharp nip that has my nipples hardening in response. "That wasn't being a good girl. In fact, you're being very, very bad."

His hand slides lower, easily slipping under my sweater, then he drags it up, not stopping until his hand touches skin. The heat of him is shocking, and I suck in a harsh breath. He lifts his other hand, cupping his palm over my mouth to stop me from making any noise.

I'm so distracted that I barely notice the boys leaping away from the skank like they are afraid to catch something, each of them scowling down at the girl, menace gleaming in their eyes. Maybe I should be afraid of their tendencies for violence, but it pleases me that they don't want anyone else to touch them.

"I'm into witchcraft and the occult." Oblivious to the guys' reactions, she pulls a few books off the shelves, her ass swaying back and forth in a way that makes her look like a dog in heat. "I think these books might help you the most."

She straightens and holds out three books. The guys reluctantly accept them, looking as if she handed them a shit popsicle. She plays with the low collar of her shirt, her fingers tracing her cleavage as she flutters her lashes up at them. "If you have any questions, I'm sure I can find the answers. I'm a practicing witch."

"More like a bitch," Jameson mutters, the boys clearly annoyed at her fawning. It's the only thing that quells my homicidal tendencies.

"Good girl," Gunner whispers in a husky tone, his lips lowering to skim my neck. I'm helpless to do anything as I melt against him. I'm not even conscious of tilting my head to the side in a silent encouragement for more.

His hand slides lower, slipping under the waistband of my jeans. Fingertips brush the edges of my panties once, then twice, as if he's waiting for me to protest. I nearly laugh at the absurdity. My muscles tremble in anticipation, and my hips unconsciously tilt forward in a silent demand for more.

Gunner growls at my actions, rewarding me by boldly slipping his hand down the front of my panties. I'm practically panting against the palm still covering my mouth. My back arches with the need for more, and my heartbeat nearly explodes in my chest when his cock presses hard against me.

Maybe I should be concerned that we're out in public, his hand in my pants and his cock pressing against my ass, but I really don't give a damn. All that matters is that he doesn't stop. I practically quiver in anticipation of his next move, not sure I'm even breathing.

Breathing is totally overrated when his fingers brush against my clit.

I watch the guys doing their best to ignore the girl, searching the books and pulling almost every single copy of occult-related tomes off the shelf. With each new book added to the pile, Gunner slowly flicks my clit over and over.

I'm so wound up that I arch into each stroke, balanced on my tiptoes, every muscle in my body strung tight. It's only when he leans down and bites my neck roughly that I explode. To muffle my cry, I sink my teeth into his palm, riding his hand until the pleasure slowly fades.

The rest of the world rushes back, and I find myself slumped against Gunner, only his arm and his weight pinning me to the shelves keeping me upright. The pressure of his cock, still long and hard against my back, sends another wave of longing through me, like I didn't just have the world's most amazing orgasm.

"If you continue to be such a good girl, maybe I'll give you a bigger reward later." With a hum of approval, Gunner removes his hand from my mouth, then he stoops to kiss the sensitive bite mark on my neck. He brushes his fingers back and forth over the front of my panties, and I shiver, not the least bit surprised my panties are soaked.

"I'll be good." I peer up at him, huffing in annoyance that he's so tall, I can't reach up to kiss him. I have to settle for just a light brush of my lips against the underside of his jaw. "Your orgasms are so much better than the ones I manage on my own."

His blue eyes darken to cobalt, and his throat bobs when he swallows hard. His arm tightens around me, and I swear he's seconds away from throwing me over his shoulder and sprinting out of the store. Before he can move, Jameson and Jaceson stroll toward us down the aisle.

With a growl of annoyance, he caresses my clit one more time—a taunt and warning—before he reluctantly removes his hand from my pants.

The twins don't even blink at the action, telling me they know exactly what he did to my body. Jameson doesn't hesitate to come up to me and kiss the tip of my nose. "Did you enjoy yourself, pookie?"

I shiver at his husky tone, a blush heating my cheeks at his knowing look. I clear my throat, pretending that my body doesn't ache for more. "Very much."

"Good," he murmurs, then he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. "We'll purchase our books, then head home to get ready for the party. Sound good?"

I nod mutely, the worry lingering in the back of my mind that he might be upset fading before it can even take hold. He brushes a thumb over my cheek, then winks down at me. "The blush looks good on you."

My cheeks heat even more. When he turns, he shoves his nearly towering stack of books into Gunnar's gut, forcing the big man to take them or risk dropping them. They bicker back and forth, Gunner grumbling under his breath, but they head toward the counter without breaking out into a fistfight.

I'll take that as a win.

Jaceson falls into step behind me, carrying his own stack of books. I eye them dubiously, then raise my brows at him. "Doing some light reading?"

He shrugs noncommittally, not even struggling under the weight of his load. "James wants to learn everything he can on your…special ability. He's determined to become an expert."

My heart melts at Jameson's thoughtfulness, a tiny smile curling my lips as I trail after the guys.

"He's not wrong." Jaceson keeps pace at my side, peering down at the books in his arms. "You mentioned you didn't know much about what you're able to do. Maybe some of these will help."

Doubtful, but I keep my mouth shut.

Most people who have the gift usually pass their knowledge on from one practitioner to the next, the information staying in the family. The books the guys carry are either new age junk or a hodgepodge of odds and ends, worthless bits of information added to sell books, but it's the thought that counts.

Brenda is waiting behind the counter, because of course she is. She smiles brightly at the guys, then she pulls out an old Ouija board from under the counter that has seen better days. "I managed to locate this old thing in the back. Do you want me to ring it up? If you bring it to the party tonight, I can personally show you guys how it works!"

It's all I can do not to recoil. I'm not sure what disgusts me more, the Ouija board or the girl herself. Before the guys can answer her, I touch Jameson's arm and shake my head. "Not the board. I don't want that thing anywhere near us."

Brenda scowls and drops the board to the counter, the box banging so loudly that I startle. "If you knew anything about the occult, you would know Ouija boards are a harmless way to contact the dead when you have a proficient user to guide you."

Her voice is so snooty and snide that I barely resist the urge to lean over the counter and break her nose with my fist. The only thing stopping me is the idea of being dragged back to the police station.

The guys turn toward me for confirmation, silently asking me if I want to keep the board…or maybe they are asking me to beat up Brenda for them, depending on who you look at.

I just shrug, unable to hold back my grimace at Jameson's question.

"She's technically not wrong," I admit reluctantly, ignoring the way Brenda grins triumphantly. "But since most people are clueless about how to use the board properly, it's very dangerous."

Brenda plops her hands on her waist, cocking her hip out. "I'll have you know?—"

"The instructions on the box are a joke. A full ceremony is needed to open proper communication with the dead, ensuring malevolent spirits can't take control and terrorize people. Without the right incantations and warding, you could wake up the next morning with a bloody knife in your hand and your family slaughtered and no recollection of killing them."

"Don't be absurd." Brenda rolls her eyes dramatically, aggressively scanning the rest of the books in record time, clearly pissed at me for contradicting her. "Cash or charge?"

Jameson reluctantly hands over his credit card, looking like it pains him. Since he didn't blink at the cost, I'm assuming he's loath to allow Brenda's greedy hands to touch it. She lifts the black card to her face, fanning herself with it before finally scanning it. After bagging the items, she grudgingly slides the card across the counter, leaning over until her breasts are in danger of spilling out of her shirt.

When Jameson reaches to take the card, she refuses to release her hold until he looks at her. "I'll see you guys tonight."

Her chipper voice grates on my ears, almost like she's taunting me, but I have no idea why.

With a wink and a flirty smile, she straightens, completely ignoring the other customers as she watches the guys march out of the store. As if still feeling her intrusive attention, they shudder and mutter obscenities under their breath. The instant we leave, I can breathe better, the pressure on my chest vanishing.

Casting a look at the guys, I lift a brow. "Would anyone care to tell me why Brenda seems so possessive over you guys?"

"Don't look at me." Gunner shrugs, not even trying to explain. "I have always hated the bitch."

I knew he was my favorite!

I glance at the twins, narrowing my eyes on the pair. The idea of them sharing a woman like that has bile rising in the back of my throat. "You guys didn't?—"

"Fuck no!" Jaceson shudders at the thought.

"I have some standards," Jameson replies at the same time, doing a full-body shiver at the thought of having her hands on him. "She graduated with us. Hicks used to hook up with her for a while, but she loved the gifts and power of being his girl more than him. She thought she could do what she wanted and that being his girlfriend meant she was untouchable. She thought wrong."

"Hicks dumped her ass when we discovered that she was stealing from us," Gunner mutters, his face twisted in disgust. "She was going through my room when I caught her."

"That bitch!" I whirl, ready to march back into the store and punch the woman like I should have when she first hit on the guys.

Gunner captures me around the waist and lifts me off my feet before I can take five steps. My feet are still moving as he turns and heads toward the exit. I struggle to break free for all of a minute, when his husky voice whispers in my ear. "If you continue to struggle, I'll have to punish you."

I pause, mentally debating if I want to stop or not.

Punishment sounds delicious when spoken in his rough voice.

The decision is taken from me when we step outside and head toward our car. By the time we return home, I'm more than ready to be done with stupid people.

A shudder goes through me at the thought of going to the party tonight. As the guys lead me into the house with their hoard of books, I kick off my shoes and slump on the couch. "Would you guys mind if I just stayed home from the party? I'm more than a little tired after the last couple of days."

"It's the final summer bash before everyone leaves for school." Jameson claims the seat next to me on the couch, then he sweeps my feet into his lap and digs his fingers into the soles, stealing a deep moan of pleasure from me. His hands tighten for a second before he continues to have his wicked way with my feet. When he speaks again, his voice is lower and distracted. "We've had the same party for years. I'm more than happy to skip it and spend time with you instead."

"I'll stay too," Jaceson says nonchalantly, dropping into the seat across from us and picking up one of the books.

"Me too," Gunner says nearly at the same time, and I see him heading toward the kitchen with a determined expression on his face. "I'll make us some snacks. We can spend the night studying."

Guilt immediately pricks my conscience, and I wilt against the couch. "Urgh…I can't let you guys skip the party that you were looking forward to all summer. You should?—"

"Don't even say it." Jameson digs his fingers into a particularly nasty spot on my foot, and I swear my eyes threaten to roll up inside my head. "We won't go without you."

My thoughts cloud over with him touching me, and I say the first thing that pops into my head. "Keep doing whatever you're doing, and I'll do whatever you want."

His hands pause on my feet, and I immediately pout, wiggling my toes in a silent demand for more, but nothing happens. It's only then that the silence in the room slowly creeps over me. I crack open an eye and peer at the guys in confusion. I startle to find all three of them staring at me with hungry expressions.

"No take-backsies!" Jameson bellows, startling us so much that we all jump.

Jaceson breaks the tension by picking up a pillow and throwing it at his head. Jameson dodges, receiving a glancing blow to his shoulder, then he throws himself over the back of the couch with no sense of self-preservation, screeching at the top of his lungs, "Pillow fight!"

Eyes wide, I glance from one guy to the next, then I roll off the couch and hit the deck. And not a second too soon. A thump hits the spot exactly where I was seated, then pillows and curses are flying as we each hide behind furniture and plan our attacks.

Unsurprisingly, the twins battle it out, personal health coming in second place to being crowned victor. I laugh almost manically as I run and skid across the floor to avoid being hit. After years of abuse, I'm good at ducking and melting into the background so I'm not seen.

The guys are ruthless with each other, and more than one piece of furniture suffers in the battle. The few blows I take are light, especially when the perpetrator is immediately targeted by the other two. Through the twenty-minute battle, Gunner does his best to protect me…until the guys exchange a pointed look.

"We must rescue Princess Pookie!" Jameson jumps on the couch, running across the cushions and launching himself at Gunner. Jaceson, with a rare smile on his face, is only a second behind as he skids across the floor and takes the big man out at the knees.

The three of them go down in a tangle of arms and legs, quickly followed by an explosion of feathers as a few pillows meet their ends. I'm left plucking feathers from my hair, a wide grin on my face as I survey the mess and loving every minute of it.

After Gunner is subdued with much swearing, they climb to their feet, their deflated pillows hanging at their sides. Gunner and Jaceson wince when they get a look at the mess, and even Jameson has the sense to look remorseful.

"Oops," Jameson mutters, avoiding my gaze as he does his best to capture as many feathers as possible, as if he can hide the results of the massacre.

I touch his arm lightly, a smile in my voice when I speak. "Don't worry about it. I'll just explain to Nan that the pillows died valiantly in battle. I'm sure she will understand, especially if I order replacements before she returns."

He turns toward me cautiously, only relaxing when he sees that I'm not mad. "Why don't you get ready for the party? Jace and I will clean up the mess, while Gunner—the defeated—can create a feast for the conquering heroes?"

While Jaceson snorts, Jameson just grins as if proud of himself, and Gunner heaves a heavy sigh, though I don't miss the small smile on his face as he turns away. They don't even wait for me to agree before starting their tasks. I watch for a minute longer, unable to remember a time in my life when I've ever been so happy. With that warmth in my chest, I practically float up the stairs as I try to figure out if I have anything to wear to a party.

I want to put on something nice, because as much as I don't want to be around other people, I don't want to waste a second, not when I can spend it with the guys.