Page 790 of The Bonding Games: Part 1

“If you all get so tremendously aroused by me eating steak, I do wonder how easy it would be to make you come.”

I choke on air.

Cooper is not so lucky and chokes on the potato he’d been chewing, and I give him a firm slap on the back.

“Bloody hell,” he mutters, voice wheezy. Snatching up his glass of water, he chugs the entire thing with his head tipped back.

“You thinking about us cumming for you, Havoc, baby?” Tate purrs.

Flattening my hand over my already-tidy dark blond hair, I try to regain my composure while Ezla meets his gaze without an emotion in sight. “No.”

“Well, I’m not ashamed to admit that it’s very easy for you to make me cum, my Havoc. Any time, any place.” He winks at her, and I look over to my brother who, sure enough, attempts to replicate it.

Internally, I let out a long and heavy exhale.

Tiger then flashes a wide, charming smile, which I admit is more successful, but that’s just his signature grin. He should probably stick to that.

Ezla stares.

Alby glances at me with wide please-help-me eyes, and I quickly change the subject so he doesn’t combust into flames.

After that, we fall into easy conversation, talking and laughing while we eat, though whenever we try to engage our Bonded, she either answers curtly enough that there’s no room for further inquiries, or she dismisses us entirely, focusing on her food without bothering to look at any of us. Her responses, or lack thereof, don’t stop us from trying, but every time we fail, Tate appears a moment closer to either flipping the entire table, jumping on Ezla and making her acknowledge him, or dropping to his knees and begging for her.

None of those are very good options.

I end up having a few courses of mains, and I’ve lost count of how many my brother’s had before we move on to desserts around the same time; I pick some eton mess in an expensive-looking crystal glass, and even though I’m pushing my limits after the volume of my previous helpings of creamy chicken pasta and the multitude of other bits and bobs I’ve tried, I also scoop up some vanilla ice cream and a toffee éclair.

I’m not even a big fan of sweet things most of the time—not like Tiger, who has the biggest sweet tooth I’ve ever known and a meal plan he’d disregard whenever he could to go over the desserts limit at EvTS 308. Although that really only ever happened when we were able to visit home and he’d eat the entire fridge. But all these choices in front of me look way too good to pass up, so I’m not missing the opportunity while it presents itself, and I have no idea if or when we’ll get another.

Just as we’re finishing up our desserts, there’s a ragged groan.

“Oh, fuck. Please let me fuck you, Havoc. I’ll do anything.”

I glance to my right and swallow thickly when I see Ezla licking whipped cream from her spoon. After that sight, I’m not far behind Tate with his begging, body twitching with the need to show my Bonded how I yearn for her. Yet I can only watch her, heat suffusing through me with each of her unintentionally enthralling movements, my mouth dry.

“Or let me lick your pussy. It’s better than any dessert on the table, I already know it.”

Agreed.

Shut up, Scotty, I hiss internally. She could be reading my thoughts right now, and although she doesn’t ever give anything away, I sometimes worry Tate’s strong advances make her uncomfortable, and I’d never want to do the same.

She ignores him, and a low, dangerous rumble works its way through him.

“Hot tub time!” Tiger blurts, shooting from his seat with a squeak of his chair legs across the taalk, and I let out a small breath of relief when I see Tate squinting his way instead of plotting Ezla’s kidnapping to keep her with him forevermore.

Cooper stands as well, tucking his chair back in before eyeing the circular obsidian tub. “So, what? We’re just going in naked?”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I wear breifs under my Avri suit.” Tiger starts to undress without shame, and I move my gaze back to Cooper, not needing to see that.

His brows slash downwards. “What the fuck, man? Of course I wear underwear.”

“I don’t always.”

“Lovely to know, Tate,” I mutter as I get to my feet, the man in question following after finishing his last mouthful of food. Alby rises more tentatively.

“Who wants alcohol?” Cooper makes his way over to the bar, glossing over Tate’s comment while I slide closer to Alby.

“You good?” I ask him with concern.