Chapter 10: Chapter Ten

Bexley

“I just froze like an idiot,” I admitted, pacing the room with my phone against my ear. "So, now you know everything."

Caz growled with irritation. “Ugh, Bexley!”

I cringed, shoving image of last night’s events to one side. “I know,” I groaned. “You should have seen their faces; they were crushed.”

“Tell me what you said, you heartless bitch?” she teased. "I'm still amazed you bagged yourself four blokes, you lucky cow." I could hear the envy in her voice.

The sound of footsteps approached my room and my stomach sank with caution. I wasn’t supposed to be making calls, but I needed to tell my best friend.

“I said that I had to think about it. I have to go, someone is coming,” I explained, rushing my words before hanging up.

I hid my phone beneath my pillow and scooted away from the bed. A gentle knock alerted me to the door, and I faked composure.

“Come in,” I called out.

Cruz emerged wearing a grey muscle top and loose-fitted shorts, his eyes flitting around my room with suspicion. “Who were you chatting to?” he asked, sounding puzzled.

I swallowed thickly. “No one, I was just muttering to myself,” I lied.

He cast me a dubious look. “That’s the early symptom of lunacy, you know?”

“Yeah, well,” I returned, curling my arms across my exposed midsection. “Things have been a little crazy lately.”

His Stoic expression gave nothing away, making me wonder what he was thinking about. Last night was special for all of us, and I wrecked it by behaving like a coward.

“I see you’re dressed and ready for training,” he commented, checking out my gym attire with approval.

The pink crop top and black Lycra shorts clung to my body like a second layer of skin. I might as well be nude for all the good it did.

I assumed he was going to bring up last night, but he didn’t. “Have you eaten any breakfast?” he asked, making sure.

I nodded. “I sneaked downstairs while you all went for a run,” I admitted, feeling sheepish.

He huffed through his nose, shaking his head as he turned to leave. That was my cue to follow. I wanted to make it up to them but didn’t know how.

“Wait, Cruz,” I called him back, rushing to catch up with him at the top of the stairs.

He slowed his pace but didn’t spare me a side-glance. I could feel the tension rolling off him in waves.

“I’m sorry about last night,” I blurted out, meaning it. “But you sprang it on me.”

And was it too much to ask to get a massive shiny diamond? They were wealthy enough to afford a huge platinum dazzler.

As we arrived at the bottom step, he turned to me. “I know; we shouldn’t have bombarded you.” He gripped the bridge of his nose and released a heavy sigh. “I hope you haven’t changed your mind about giving this a go?”

He wasn’t upset with me; it concerned him they might have spoiled things.

“Of course, not,” I reassured. “And I never said no. I pointed out that I needed space to consider it. Marriage is an enormous step, and I have to make sure that my father will support this.”

I caught the flinch in his eyes and wondered what that might mean. Had he realized the ramifications of our relationship might have and all the trouble that might cause? We may be on board with living a harem lifestyle, but our parents might not be. I didn’t want this to drive a wedge between my father and me. If he wouldn’t support my decision, then this couldn’t proceed. They just couldn’t.

Cruz nodded. “Don’t think about that now. We ought to concentrate on training you.”

“But we can still have fun, right?” I asked, hoping that this wouldn’t change the things we started.

“Fun?” he chuckled, flashing a kilowatt smile. “I think we had more than fun, Bexley.”

He was right, it was incredible. It was the most erotic, and most exhilarating feeling I had ever experienced.

Cruz began the morning session by teaching me some stretches. They were like Yoga positions and my mind strayed to the gutter when he eased me into the Downward Facing Dog position. He explained how this would strengthen my inner core. My arm muscles strained with the torture of maintaining the plank position for thirty seconds; I was so out of shape, red-faced, and groaning. By the time the stopwatch beeped, I collapsed to the floor in a panting mess.

“Now we’re going to do some HIIT exercises,” Cruz announced like he was Mr fucking Motivator. “Let’s start with some climbing ladder circuits, aiming for the highest level within twenty minutes: ten burpees, fifteen dynamic planks, ten diamond push-ups, fifteen squat jumps, and twenty-five jumping jacks.”

He lost me at the first one. “What the fuck is a burpee?” I asked, not understanding what it was.

It wasn’t like I was a gym virgin; I had been to the gym with Caz many times, but we went to the Clubbercise classes. That was the highlight of my week. Every Tuesday at half-past-eleven in the morning, we got to jump around the sports hall to Clubland classics, waving orange and pink glow sticks around. I thought dynamic planks and circuit ladders were items in a hardware store.

“Allow me to demonstrate,” Cruz voiced before performing the four-step action, then showing me how each one should be done. He completed a full circuit without breaking so much as a sweat.

“Now you try,” he insisted, holding his stopwatch.

The torture lasted for two-and-a-half hours before I tapped out, demanding we take a break.

Cruz towered over me as I lay with my back against the floor, staring up at his handsome face. Any woman would be ecstatic to marry one of the Wolfe boys, not to mention all four.

“Help me up,” I whined, holding out my hand.

Cruz grinned, then grasped my sticky fingers, yanking me up from the floor. My muscles wept with dismay. The fucking evidence had seeped out through my pores and had formed a Bexley-shaped puddle on the mat. And if Cruz kept looking at me the way he was doing, with such heated intensity, I would need to find a wet floor sign for another slippery issue. I was gross, sweaty, and destroyed from last night and this morning’s antics, but I could still happily lie here and spread my legs for this fine specimen of a man.

“Shower?” he suggested, now that I was standing.

“I better had,” I mentioned, hoping that I didn’t stink too badly.

The label on my deodorant tin claimed I would be floral-fresh for twenty-four hours, but that was before I turned into Sweaty Betty. I didn't want to take any chances. Cruz’s warm, salty essence smelled of raw masculinity. It was arousing, not unpleasant. Beads of perspiration covered his brow, and his muscle top darkened in places where the moisture had absorbed.

For a lingering moment, it looked as if he might kiss me. I licked my lips to moisten them.

“What?” I asked, wondering why he was hesitating.

Whatever he was thinking about, it was there on the tip of his tongue, but he refused to spit it out. That frustrated me. I wanted to hear him say it.

“Last night,” he mentioned, dallying around the subject as if it were a fragile topic. “It was the best night of my life.”

My heart melted into a puddle, gushing straight through my pussy and into my knickers.

“Mine too,” I told him, pulling his sticky shirt at the front.

Cruz took the hint and leaned down for a kiss. His lips were warm, my tongue exploring every inch of his wholesome, clean mouth. He smiled against me, breaking the kiss and leaning his clammy head against mine.

“How about we shower together?” he offered; his voice was thick with lust.

He didn’t need to ask me twice, but then I didn’t have to. Cruz scooped me into his arms and carried me to the bathroom. Who could have guessed that this strong, dominant man could show such reverence? The man was immense in every possible aspect. He turned on the shower, toed off his trainers, and peeled off his clothes.

When he placed me down and stripped away my clothes, he raked his eyes over my body and said, “Up against the tiles or on the floor?”

“Surprise me,” I returned, grabbing his cock by the root.

"My kind of girl," he rasped, flashing a lascivious grin.

He was already hard and pulsing in my hand, his balls swelling with the urge to fuck.

Climbing him like a tree, I held on to his shoulders and wrapped my legs around his waist. Cruz carried me into the shower; the heat of the water jets and the cold wall tiles contrasting against my skin as he nudged against my entrance. Steam filled the room with a white mist.

“Permission to come aboard, miss,” he rasped, his voice drenched with need.

I shoved against him, pressing my heels against his arse. “Granted . . . now just fucking do it already.”

His thrust impaled me, slamming me into the wall. “Fuck,” I moaned, loving the stretch and burn he gave as his thick, meaty cock speared through my pussy walls, again and again.

Cruz groaned his enjoyment, ravishing me like a beast, his lips sucking my neck in a claim-staking hickey. The pressure was building and I could no longer fight it; he was hitting all the right notes to make my body dance to his tune. We came simultaneously in the throes of ecstasy, matching his thrusts until we mashed together in a tense spasm.

“Christ, Bexley,” Cruz panted. “You feel amazing.”

His seed oozed out of me as he withdrew, our chests heaving as we caught our breath.

“Mmm,” I hummed with contentment, wrapping my arms around him like he was a hunky teddy bear. He made me feel safe, just like the day he swam to my rescue in the pool. “I always wanted a big strong daddy like you,” I confessed a secret desire, one that I used to fantasize about.

“All I've ever wanted was a princess to spoil, so good things do come to those who wait, wouldn't you say?”

I never would have imagined a stern man like Cruz would admit to that and show his soft side. My heart chimed with delight.

Cruz reached for the shower gel and a scrubbing poof and washed me, then cleaned himself. He did the same when washing my hair, and I let him, cherishing the precious moment between us. This was a ‘for my eyes only’ side of Cruz that he was reluctant to share with anyone else, not even his brothers. My very own James Bond replica, but much more attentive.

Asher

“You just had to propose,” I huffed, glaring at the back of Dominic’s head. "Even an idiot knows you should never propose to a woman while you're fucking her."

He had been ignoring me all morning, tapping away on his computer screen like his fingers were possessed.

“Don’t blame him, he was following his heart,” Braxton defended him, scowling through the window at the tide going out. “Your heart isn’t the only one on the line. We all love Bexley.”

My twin was right. Now that we’d had a taste of her, we were terrified of losing her. I could tell by Dominic’s brooding that he was shouldering the guilt. We agreed that we would ease her into things before we presented her with a marriage proposal. I just hope we didn’t scare her off.

“Well, it could have been worse,” I conceded, looking on the bright side. “At least she didn’t say no.”

Dominic stopped typing, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He sucked in a breath and released a weary sigh. “Yeah, but you didn’t see the look in her eyes. I couldn’t miss it because she was sitting on my dick at the time,” he muttered, sounding crestfallen.

I placed my hand against his shoulder and felt him sag. “But it wasn’t a no,” I reiterated. “She said she needed time to think about it, so that’s exactly what we’ll give her.”

Braxton pushed off the countertop and turned to face the hall. “Bexley?” he acknowledged, the tone of his voice brightening.

“Hi, guys,” Bexley greeted as she slumped into the kitchen and collapsed onto a stool beside the breakfast bar. Her hair was wet from showering. “Cruz is a nightmare,” she complained. “I’m wrung out.”

You look it too. Don't think that love bite hasn't gone unnoticed.

“It’s nothing that an hour in the hot tub won’t solve,” I suggested, forgetting myself for a moment.

Bexley flicked her gaze to me with an arched brow. “Don’t even think about it. I’m aching all over.”

I wasn’t insinuating we have sex, just pointing out that we have a perfectly good form of relaxation sitting out there on the veranda, that’s all. My brothers and I exchanged a puzzled look between us, shocked that she wasn’t recoiling at the idea, just stating that she wasn’t in the mood. Cruz entered the room with a towel slung over his shoulder. He had showered and changed into a pair of military shorts and a clean t-shirt. He tossed his towel and a bundle of dirty laundry into the basket beside the washing machine.

“She did good,” he told us, motioning to Bexley. “She kept up with me.”

Braxton’s brows lifted with surprise. “Did she?”

It was obvious they had sex in the shower. They both radiated an after-sex glow. No wonder she walked into the kitchen as if she was saddle sore. I bet she hadn’t recovered from last night.

Cruz nodded, staring back at Bexley with pride in his eyes. “We can start with the weights tomorrow morning. You can join us if you like?” he suggested, glancing at Braxton.

Bexley flicked her gaze to me and flashed a shy smile. Braxton and Cruz began talking about ways they could combine their training regime. Dominic resumed working; his lips pressed into a tight, thin line as he frowned at the monitor. Bexley glanced at him; her lips parted as if she wanted to say something but decided against it.

“How about some lunch?” I asked her. “I bet you’re famished.”

She nodded, gingerly. “I am; that would be great, thank you.”

I rustled up some chicken salad and made a simple lemon dressing from scratch. My brothers liked to tease me for my culinary skills, but at least I knew how to please a woman in more ways than one. Bexley loved food, and from what we learned about her last night was that her sexual taste varied as much as her appetite.

The house phone rang and Dominic snatched the handset to answer it. “Hello?” he spoke, holding the phone between his shoulder and jaw as he carried on working. Fuck, the man could multitask.

He flicked his gaze to me. “It’s Dad. He wants to talk to you,” he notified, passing the phone to me.

I took it and walked out onto the patio. Bexley watched through the window as she nibbled her lunch.

“He’s on the move,” Dad warned, and I sensed the anxiety in his tone. “One of our agents tipped off Intel, informing them that the Chameleon left Moscow this morning. He disappeared quickly after carrying out a hit. His target was a Russian diplomat named Mikhail Volkov.”

What? This doesn't sound good.

The moisture evaporated in my mouth. “Where is he now? Is there a location marker on him?”

Dad’s breath rattled down the line. "No, he eluded capture yet again. He could be anywhere, posing as anyone.”

Shit. That's not what I wanted to hear.

“What was his motive for killing the diplomat?” I probed further.

“We can rule out any speculation of a hired strike because he was part of the Russian mafia. They assume it was a rival family and are out for blood,” Dad reported. "This was just a means of distracting our agents so he could make his escape."

Nah, there had to be more to it than that.

“What did you say his name was again?” I asked, struggling to connect the dots.

“Volkov,” Dad repeated.

My gaze drifted out to sea as I thought, then it struck me like a comet. “It’s a message.”

“How so?” Dad queried, “I don’t quite follow.”

“The name Volkov derives from the word volk, meaning wolf. He’s sending us a message. He’s coming for us,” I mentioned.

The hairs on the back of my neck bristled in the ocean breeze.

He's after Bexley's pendant.

“You know what to do,” Dad instructed. “Lie low until you receive the signal. In the event of a security breach, relocate to Alpha One.”

“Where are you?” I asked, noticing the line was crackling. "The line is terrible."

“Do you remember that decommissioned vessel Jaxx and I salvaged from the Navy? The HMS Triumph. She’s docked in Portsmouth. I’m speaking to you from the helm.”

“Don’t go planning any last crusades,” I warned, dissuading my father from another reckless quest. “The last one ended disastrously.”

“Where’s Bexley?” Dad asked, changing the subject.

I glanced over my shoulder, witnessing Bexley averting her eyes. “Eating her lunch. She’s been training with Cruz all morning.”

“Step it up a notch,” Dad insisted. “Your brother has been working tirelessly to decipher those codes. He needs Bexley to fill in the missing pieces of the puzzle.”

I locked eyes with Bexley, and this time she didn’t look away.

“We’re running out of time,” Dad said with an exhausted sigh. “We’re all counting on you kids. Millions of lives are at stake.”

"No pressure then," I muttered, just as Bexley stepped out on the veranda.

I hung up and tapped the phone against my palm.

"What is it?" she asked, sensing that something was wrong.

I couldn't lie, but I couldn't terrify her either. This called for a tactful distraction.

"That was my dad. He has only gone and salvaged a boat," I announced, rolling my eyes.

Bexley raised her brows in acknowledgement. "Oh. Well, I'm sure there is a reason for that. It might come in useful."

Yes, to take you to the other side of the earth and out of the Chameleon's reach.

I ushered her back inside and closed the French doors, not leaving anything to chance. Dominic glanced up from his computer monitor and frowned.

"What did he want?" he muttered inquisitively.

I gestured to a chair. "Sit down, Bex."

Dominic bristled, still reeling with the wounds of rejection.

"I'm afraid this can't wait," I told them. "We need to work on breaking those codes."

"Right now?" he replied in a clipped tone. "I'm sure Bexley feels exhausted after her workout session with Cruz."

Bexley took a seat beside Dominic and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Her hand slid along his leg and settled in his groin. His eyes danced between hers with an air of uncertainty.

"Who says I'm tired? I'll make it worth your while," Bexley cooed.

I turned to leave, intending to give them some privacy.

"Where do you think you're going?" Bexley called after me.

I spared a backward glance and saw the heat in her eyes. Her fingers set to work releasing Dominic's belt, then wriggled beneath his khakis to seize his cock. His head rolled back with pleasure.

"Fuck, Bexley," he hissed as she began to stroke him.

"Stay," she urged, tapping the seat beside her. "I want to make it up to you both for last night."

Only an idiot would have refused, and I wasn't considered one.