Page 124 of Their Ruthless Sadist

The pretty boy was the one who stepped forward this time. “But you did. And that dumb-ass move is something you have to live with for the rest of your life. It’s time for you to go.”

Matt’s pleading eyes shot to me, but I shrugged as I turned and headed toward the back door. I needed some air.

“Come on, Tank,” I commanded, and my best friend fell into step with me.

Once on the back porch, I dropped onto the top step and stared into the inky darkness. It was cold, but I ignored the chill. Adrenaline was still racing in my veins. Anger, disappointment, frustration. It churned inside me, making me feel sick. But it wasn’t directed at my fuck toys or even Matt. I was disappointed with myself. How I’d reacted tonight. I shouldn’t have left them, but I didn’t know what else to do. Seeing Matt again had fucked me up, caught me off guard.

Who the fuck was I kidding? I hadn’t even thought of them in that moment. I was completely selfish. I didn’t want to deal with Matt’s shit, so I had worried about only myself.

Just another thing that made me human. Something else that would have the fuck toys turning away because I couldn’t give them what they needed all the time.

Tank returned to my side, placing his head on my chest as he stared up at me.

“What’s up, boy?” I asked. “Too much disruption for one night? I doubt you’ll have to worry about it for long. They’ll all be gone soon.”

“No, we won’t,” a voice said from behind me. “Matt’s gone and he’s not coming back, but we’re not leaving.”

I peered back at the cowboy over my shoulder. “You don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“Actually, no. That’s not in my repertoire of skills. I do make a mean pasta e fagioli, though.”

I didn’t have the energy to fight with them anymore tonight. I needed to sleep, and perhaps everything would look different in the morning.

Pushing to my feet, I turned to face the two men standing there. “Look. I know you don’t have anywhere to go right this minute, so you’re welcome to stay here. I’ve got guest rooms. One or two, your preference. When you find something, just let me know.”

I started to walk into the house, but they blocked my path.

“We’re not sleepin’ in the guest room,” the pretty boy stated.

“Whatever.” I didn’t care if they slept outside. That was their prerogative.

“You have two choices,” the cowboy said.

I glared back at him. “Do I?”

“Yes.” He squared his shoulders. “Either we continue our nightly routine and we sleep under your bed where you want us”—he paused, his eyes scanning my face—“or we’re sleepin’ in your bed. Those are your choices.”

I barked a laugh because this was fucking ridiculous. “My bed?”

“Yes,” they both said at the same time.

“You’d risk my punishment to defy me?”

“Yes,” the cowboy stated. “If you want to dress me up like a dog or a fucking pony, I don’t care. But we’re not leaving. Not like this. If you truly want us gone, we’ll go. However, that won’t be until you’re acting civilized and under different circumstances. We won’t let you push us away because some dickhead was stupid enough to walk out on you years ago. That’s on him. Not you.”

Rage fizzed in my veins. They were standing up to me, and it pissed me off. I preferred the fuck toys who took instructions, not the ones who thought they knew me.

“You feel the same?” I asked the pretty boy.

“I do. I’ve always believed things happen for a reason. We’re here because we were meant to be in your path and you in ours.”

I was too tired to argue about this anymore. Shrugging, I motioned them back into the house. “Whatever you feel you need to do. I don’t give a shit anymore.”

While I wanted that to be true, I knew it wasn’t.

And I suspected they knew it, too.

Brax (the cowboy)