Page 9 of Altered By Lead (Undercover Sinners 2)
As I stare, Weston pulls one of his lip rings into his mouth, toying with it in a way that sends all kinds of dirty ideas floating through my head.
"Natalia," Weston murmurs, a sly grin pulling up those full lips I'm so fixated on.
"Hmm?" I reply, not really paying attention. Not when my mind is replaying the memory of the two of them, naked and sweaty, one in front and one behind as they ...
"You're drooling," Weston says, his grin widening.
My gaze shoots back to his eyes and I snap my mouth shut. How it had fallen open, I've no idea. "No, I'm not," I argue, but casually wipe a hand over my chin. Just in case.
"Sure, babe," Colt answers with a smirk, "just like I wasn't picturing you naked." His obvious wink tells me that's exactly what he was doing, and I like it. "I mean, damn. You look ..." he breaks off with a pained groan and I gasp, all thoughts of double vaginal penetration gone from my mind as I struggle to keep my cool.
I won’t let them know that I care. Because if I do, then they’ll have something to hold over me, and I’m not sure I want to give them that power. Yet. Or ever.
Considering Colt was checking me out before he started moaning, I have to wonder if his lust for me has broken him before he even steps foot inside the crumbling old hotel Hawke is calling a ‘safe house’.
"Hey, buddy." Weston's voice shakes as he crouches down. "You okay?"
Colt groans again, sending another lightning bolt of fear zapping through me. "No," he replies, still sounding pained as he leans forward, shifting in his wheelchair. "Ah, fuck, I think I'm dying. These fucking emo jeans are too tight on my massive hard on, bro."
He looks up at his best friend with a smug as shit grin and Weston glowers back. It takes me a hot second for the panic to ease out of my body, realizing he's joking. God, I’ve missed these two. They’re the only ones in this entire group with any sense of humor whatsoever. It’s much needed, after Hawke’s scowling and Mace’s silent treatment. Some part of me believes that Colt and West might actually like me, you know, as more than a depraved sexual conquest.
"Dick," Weston growls, playfully smacking Colt on the muscular shoulder.
"Hey, hey, woah, don't hit the invalid," Colt protests, then waggles his brows at me. "But you're welcome to hit on the invalid, babe. Seriously, though, you look fucking great. Has someone been feeding you?"
A small sound of indignation slips from my mouth as Weston starts wheeling Colt up the path toward the safe house. "Did you just call me fat?" I quip, but I’m not actually all that pissed off. How could I be, now that we’re all back together again. Colt is like sunshine, and Weston is the pair of shades you put on to look cool beneath all that heat.
Colt turns his head to squint at me when I fall behind. "You know I didn't. If you want compliments, babe, just say so. I've had three whole weeks to dream about getting you naked again, so I've got pick up lines for days."
I can't fight the smile pulling at my lips when his green eyes sparkle with mischief and his tongue drags a slow path over his lower lip. He’s got confidence for days, doesn’t he? And he’s so damn hot, I’m sure he’s never had trouble getting girls into bed. That’s why he’s still nice, I bet, because he’s never had to work his ass off for anything.
"Well, thanks," I murmur. "Hawke and Mace have been training me."
Weston stops dead in the path and I bump into his back before recovering my balance. His hard, wide, muscular back, covered in a musky-smelling t-shirt that I’d seriously like to snag and hide under my pillow … Like that’s not creepy at all.
"They've what?" he demands, glaring at me like I just said they've been cooking crystal meth and selling it to school kids. Actually, that sounds like something Arsen would do. Crazy fuck. Crazy fuck that I kind of miss ... deep down.
I give Weston a small frown, flicking my gaze over to Colt who’s still grinning. "Uh ... they've been training me?" I phrase it as a question, but maybe I shouldn’t have because I’m pretty sure I know what he’s talking about. Sex. It’s always about sex with us, me and the guys. There’s a distinct possibility that we’re all sex addicts. But I can only deal with one vice at a time here. If I try to tackle too many issues at once, I’ll break. I’m not that strong. Not yet. "You know, to qualify for active duty with the team? So we can go back and kill my dad?" I wrinkle my nose, seeing West’s anger dissipate and relief wash over his face; Colt doesn’t seem bothered much either way. "What the hell did you think I meant?"
