Page 118 of The Bonding Games: Part 2

“I know you can. But I want to.”

Folding her arms across her chest, she stares me down.

I stay crouched, encouraged by the fact that I feel a spark of glee from her at the sight of me beneath her. My voice drops lower. “I need to.”

Eyes narrowing at that, a few tense beats pass.

Then she dips her chin, understanding.

Tiger shoots to his feet like a rocket taking flight. “I want to help!”

“And me,” Alby whispers, shakily getting to his feet as well.

“Me too,” Tate grunts.

“Same. This is part of us taking care of you, Vengeance. We all want to do that.”

Growling, Ezla hisses, “You are all so disobedient today.”

“You know what that means?” Tiger’s eye twitches all over the place, and I roll my lips in. With a marginally more successful hair flip to his . . . wink . . . he whispers in a way I think is meant to be seductive, “Punishments.”

Our Bonded stares at him.

Coughing into his fist, Cooper says, “Right . . . so, should we start?”

Ezla snarls. “Fine. But I will be having a shower while you are at it.”

“Oh, fuck yeah—”

“But you are not allowed to watch, or you will be denied access to my body when I am done.”

“What?” Tate’s hiss furiously takes the place of his previous groan.

“Vengeance, how do you expect us to not bloody look at you—”

“You are not animals. I am quite certain you have some self-discipline.”

“I fucking don’t,” Tate growls in time with Cooper’s, “You’re our woman. I’m not an animal, but come on, Vengeance.”

Her eyes roll.

“Okay,” I cut in before things can escalate. Everyone’s attention shifts to me. “So, Ezla’s going to shower, we’re going to do our best not to look while we clean up in here”—and it will be a damn challenge, because I completely understand the struggle of trying to take my eyes off Ezla for a single second, and she’s about to be naked, right there—“and then us five will wait for you in our bedroom, Love.”

“Good.”

And then she strips.

***

“No, Ezzy! I’m a good boy!”

Ezla’s expression remains unmoved as she chains Tiger to the headboard of the huge silk-draped bed in the centre of our Bonded bedroom.

“I didn’t do it! It was my eyes!”

Cooper snorts from his position on the taalk floor. Bound wrists behind his back and pressed to the side of the bed he leans up against, his head is tipped back against the mattress. “Why do you always use that excuse as if your body parts aren’t entirely controlled by you?”

“Because they’re not!” he wails. “They don’t listen to me when I’m around Wifey!”