Francis snorted.
“I think we should have kept his balls if you wanted a trophy because you lot certainly emasculated him.”
West barked with laughter and gave Francis a wink. We’d told Drake and Francis about the whole fucking her before she’d killed him business.
“I merely showed him what he couldn’t have. Voyeur boy over there made it into a spit roast. I’m surprised Mason didn’t come in his fucking pants at the sight of it. He was too busy cursing us behind his gag rather than enjoying the show.”
Scarlett blushed and buried her face in my neck. I stroked her hair. She enjoyed being watched by us, but I was pretty sure the Mason thing was a one-time deal to punish him for everything he’d done to her.
Drake gave us all a look before he stared down at the photograph again. Then he rubbed his chin and sat back, placing the photo on the table.
“What are we going to do with it?” He cracked his knuckles. “Tie a nice little bow around his face, package it up and have it hand-delivered to Stuart.”
“That’s going to force him into coming after us, and antagonise the fuck out of Garrett,” I said.
Drake smiled, his indigo eyes glinting.
“That’s the whole point. Stuart threatened Scarlett. We’re going to show him we’re not to be messed with. Are you in?”
The rest of us looked at each other as Scarlett turned her face from my neck to stare at Drake.
“As long as I get to torture the fuck when we finally nail him, I’m in,” West said with a shrug.
“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”
“I’m ready,” Francis said.
“Me too,” I put in.
All of us looked at Scarlett. She had to be on board with it too. We did it all together or not at all. Those were the rules. And she was one of us. They applied to her too.
She leant forward, placing her palm down on the table.
“Let’s show him who’s boss and kill that motherfucker.”
West gave Scarlett a smile.
“As my little Scar wishes. I’ll text Penn and get the ball rolling.”
“Good,” Drake said as he sat forward and picked up the pages he’d been looking through again. “It’s time we declared outright war on those fuckers once and for all.”
And fuck if it wasn’t satisfying to know we were all going to take that cunt down or die trying.
Twelve
Scarlett
I jumped down the last couple of steps, looking back to find Prescott on my tail. My feet carried me into the kitchen, squealing as he made to grab me, narrowly missing catching hold of my dress. I ran around the counter to avoid him.
“You’re making this far too easy, little lamb.”
I raised an eyebrow, watching him walk around it whilst I dashed away towards the dining table.
“We don’t have enough room in this place,” I countered.
“Excuses, excuses.”
I grinned and gave him a wink, moving around the table as he came at me. We were on either side, staring each other down a moment later.
The door to their gym opened and out walked a shirtless Francis, who shoved his dark hair back from his face. My eyes immediately went to his chest, watching sweat drip down to the grooves of his abs.
That should not be so hot, but it is. Holy fuck.
The fact I even got distracted by the sight of Francis shirtless was my downfall. Prescott took advantage of my momentary distraction, ran around the table, and caught me against his chest, nuzzling my ear and pressing his hard dick into my back.
“You made that far too easy, sweetness.”
“Blame him.” I waved at Francis. “Coming out here looking all hot and shit.”
Prescott looked over my shoulder at Francis, who had paused by the stairs to eye both of us with a wary expression on his face.
“Well, if I was into dick, I would be distracted too.”
“What are you two staring at?” Francis asked, raising his eyebrow.
“You,” I said like it was obvious.
“Me?”
“Mmm, yeah, our girl is staring at your abs,” Prescott replied, waving at him.
Francis looked down at himself, then back up at me. Then a smirk appeared on his face.
“You can come touch them if you want.”
I looked up at Prescott, who was grinning.
“Go on, show me how much you appreciate Francis’ hard work in the gym.”
He released me, letting me make my way over to Francis whilst he followed behind. The moment I got close to him, I ran my fingers along Francis’ stomach, getting them covered in his sweat. I didn’t care. He was far too attractive for his own good. And besides, we both got rather sweaty together in the bedroom.
“Don’t stop there,” Prescott murmured in my ear. “Perhaps you want to get on your knees.”
I lowered myself to them on his order, sliding my fingers into the waistband of Francis’ shorts and tugging at them. Prescott put his hands on my shoulders, pushing me closer to his friend. I looked up at Francis, who was breathing harder now. Those grey eyes were full of desire.
“Make him hard for me, little lamb.”
I ran my hand along the slight bulge in his shorts, making Francis let out a harsh breath. His hand went to my hair, fingers digging into the strands and stroking my scalp. I kept stroking, feeling him stiffen under my caress.
“Good girl,” Prescott murmured from behind me as I continued to stroke Francis.
I didn’t look at him. My body heated. I enjoyed being watched as much as he enjoyed watching me, but I wanted to know what he saw one day. Maybe I’d ask him to take me somewhere we could watch together. Prescott was definitely the type of person who would be aware of such places.
My fingers went to the waistband of Francis’ shorts again. I tugged them down, along with his boxers, freeing his cock. My tongue flicked out, running up his hard shaft.
“Fuck, Scar,” he ground out, his fingers tightening around my head.
“Push him down on the stairs so you can straddle his lap, little lamb. I want to see him slide into your wet little pussy.”
Francis didn’t object when I directed him closer to the stairs and made him sit down a few steps up. Nor did he when I crawled into his lap. My dress slid up my thighs. Prescott came closer and leant down behind me, tugging it up further so it sat around my waist. He stayed there, staring down between me and Francis, waiting for me to carry out the second part of his instructions.
My hand wrapped around Francis’ dick, holding it so I could lower myself onto him. He let out a grunt. I moaned with the stretch.
“That’s so fucking hot,” Prescott whispered. “Ride him for me. Make him feel good.”
I did as he asked, moving my hips and up and down. Francis’ hands went to them, helping guide me. One of my hands went to Francis’ shoulder to hold myself steady, whilst I moved the other behind me, finding my way to Prescott’s dick and stroking it through his clothes. He growled in my ear.
“Naughty lamb.”
“Punish me then, wolf.”
He chuckled, and I felt him shift behind me.
“Oh, why would I do that when I can just get Drake to?”