Page 76 of The Bonding Games: Part 2

Tate launches out of his chair.

Striding over, his storm-grey eyes burrow into me, and I have less than a quarter of a second to decide what to do before he sweeps me up into his arms.

The promise of annihilation rages up within me like a hurricane, and yet another part of me does not want him to let go. It does not feel bad, it is more like it makes me feel . . . undermined. How can I be strong, be respected, if I am not constantly asserting my dominance, enforcing my rules and displaying my power?

This process is wildly bothersome.

Deciding on an alternative to get both my wishes, I wrap my arms and legs around Tate and scrape my nails harshly down the buzzed portion of his scalp at the back of his head to make sure he feels them through my gloves. “Hmm . . . you missed me, my beast?” I purr.

He shudders, and I know he is harder than taalk in his underwear already. “Yes, my Havoc,” he groans, one hand securely on my waist, while the other comes to grasp my backside. “I had to fuck my hand so many times, and I only had my picture of you to keep me company.”

Ah, yes. I have seen that framed image on his bedside table both in his mind a few times over the weeks and in person when I briefly visited to add my fingerprint to his door last night. My ego is thoroughly stroked.

A cleared throat draws my attention over his shoulder to Scotty’s furiously blushing face, the colour almost reaching Alby’s level. Cooper is only faring slightly better. “Good morning, Love. This is . . .” He rubs at the back of his neck, and, as always, I delight in seeing his composure nowhere to be found. “This is different. Did you have a good day yesterday? Good night’s sleep? Is this, uh . . .”

“Will this be a regular thing?” Alby blurts, appearing as though he’s about to pass out when my attention all comes to settle on him. “U-uh— I mean, I-I’d really like this to become our—our normal. Waking up to you here.”

The tension in the room rises, and my eyes shift from my shy boy to roam over the rest of my men, taking in each of their faces, observing their body language and expressions carefully. I glance at Tiger, who’s come to stand beside me and Tate, storing the information in my mind that I gather from his nervously hopeful features. I follow the process with Cooper, studying his tensed face and body, his intense dark stare digging into me. Then it is Scotty’s turn, who tries to hide his own trepidation behind a calm expression, but I can always read him like an open book. Finally, my focus moves back to Tate. His jaw has stiffened, and he appears as if he is readying for rejection.

Lips pursing, I tell them, “I will not be returning to that penthouse.”

Relief drenches the room so thoroughly that it is almost tangible.

I am pissed in an instant, ire sizzling beneath my skin. Digging my fingers into Tate’s shoulders where I move my hands, I hiss, “I have not closed the bond but for a brief few moments and to keep some innermost thoughts private which I am not yet ready to share. Have I not made my intentions clear enough?”

Blue eyes widening, Scotty shoots to his feet. Palms up, he slowly walks towards me as if I am a wild animal, and I certainly snarl like one in response.

“Careful, fucker,” Tate mutters as he turns us so we can both see everyone clearly, though his rough words don’t sound quite as threatening or mad as they previously have when saying such things to my other Bonds. I know that is due to both his jealousy dying down quite a bit recently as he finally learns to adapt to the unexpected situation he has found himself in, and the fact that he had also been uncertain, braced for my response to Alby’s question.

Scotty’s lips tighten, but he only keeps his gaze steady on me as he lowers his voice to a soothing murmur. “Sorry, Love. We’re all just extremely on edge, okay? We’re well aware of how difficult this is for you, and you’re doing amazing.”

“I am always amazing.”

Cooper scoffs, burying his face in his hands, elbows on the glossy black table before him as he scrubs his palms over his face with a following groan.

My eyes narrow on him. I do hope he does not provoke me to fury. It would be a shame after such a good time together the other night for my urges to throttle him to increase again.

“Love.”

Scotty’s gentle voice brings my attention back to him, though it is split as Tate begins rubbing his paw of a hand up and down my back. I fight a pleasant shiver and throw him a quick side-eye of death that he only smirks at.

I hate him.

“We’re all extremely fucking happy and extremely fucking proud of you.” My skin itches from Scotty’s praise. I do not know to what extent I despise it, or if I am simply uncomfortable because I am not used to praise that does not sound demeaning and conniving. “And gods, Ezla, you really have no idea how much. I guess it almost feels too good to be true, that’s all.”

Out of my depth, I flip my left hand on Tate’s shoulder so that the back of it is leaning against him as I pretend to inspect my gloves, showing my men how composed and unruffled I am. “Well, I will be staying here from now on. I am partial to our Bonded bedroom.”

“Fuck yes. I’ll stay in there with you, Havoc,” Tate rumbles in response to my unspoken demand.

Tiger smacks a wet kiss to my cheek that I have no time to even think about dodging. “Me too!”

“Same.” Alby’s shy agreement is hardly audible, but I catch his voice as always.

“Of course,” Scotty says softly, his adoration pouring all over me.

Lastly, I shift my stare to Cooper.

He raises a dark brow. “What? I’m not about to say no, Vengeance. I never have, despite my . . .”