The icy ground is freezing under my feet, but that’s actually a good sign that I can feel it. Maybe the shock is wearing off.
They barrel me straight to a beat-up looking SUV and hustle me into the backseat before jumping in up front. The blue-eyed one—Gavin—takes the wheel, the dark-eyed man—Ben—still grunting as he puts a hand to his bloodied arm.
“You’re hurt,” I murmur through my haze.
“It’s fine,” he grunts quietly before turning to Gavin. “Dorchester safe house, now.”
Gavin just nods as he slams the SUV into drive, and we peel out of the parking lot.
“Wait, where…” I blink, shaking my head, and slowly, the reality that I’m naked and alone in a car with two strangers driving off into the night hits me, and my stomach clenches as my heart skips a beat.
“Here,” Ben growls, turning to hand me something. I realize it’s a huge, man-sized button up flannel shirt, and I blink as I lock eyes with him.
“Thanks,” I whisper, quickly pulling it on and buttoning it up, at least partially covering my nudity.
“Who—”
“We’re going to protect you, Charlotte,” he growls quietly, never blinking as his eyes hold mine. “We’re going to protect you.”
He turns back, and I gasp as the car rumbles into the cold Boston night. Just me and two absolutely gorgeous, inked, muscled, completely naked Irish guys, headed who the hell knows where.
Charlotte Halsting, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?
Chapter Three
Ben
The beat-up old Explorer roars towards the safe house, the heat rattling away trying to keep us a least somewhat not freezing, given that it’s fucking March 16th, in New England.
And, you know, we’re fucking naked.
Naked, bloodied, holding illegal guns, and speeding through the streets of South Boston is an all-around shite idea, but I don’t really see an alternative. I glance at my brother, and I know he’s having the same thoughts. This isn’t the best plan—fuck, it’s not a “plan” at all—but we need to put distance between us and whatever the fuck just happened back there.
The men who charged in weren’t with the Syndicate, that I know. If anything like that was going to go down, believe me, Gavin and I would have been told. Besides that, I caught a brief glimpse at some of the ink on the guys we shot back there, and that laid it all out clear: Russian Bratva. I don’t know what the fuck the Russian mob wants with her, but all I do know is, they were after her, and neither Gavin or I were going to let that happen in a million fucking years.
I glance into the review mirror, my eyes sweeping over Charlotte. She’s curled in a ball in the backseat, clearly trying to keep it together after what she just saw. She’s got the big shirt of mine that was sitting on the seat on around her now—and I’m so much bigger than her that it fits like a damn dress. Well, or skirt—a very short, very revealing skirt, at that.
I growl, my eyes slipping lower in the darkness of the car. She’s got her knees up, her arms around them, and I know a whole pile of shit’s just been dropped at her feet, but fuck me, I can’t help it. Because right there, in the shadows between her thighs, my eyes lock onto her pretty, pink, pouty little pussy.
And I fucking groan. I groan and my cock begins to thicken and swell with a mind of its own. Gavin glances over at me and frowns before he raises a brow as if to say, “what in the holy fucking hell is wrong with you.” But I just shrug and nod my chin back at Charlotte. He glances in the mirror, and then he’s also biting back a growl at what he sees.
“Eyes on the road, brother,” I mutter.
Gavin takes one more look before he whistles slowly and turns his gaze back to driving.
“Where are we going?”
Her voice is quiet, and soft. I turn to look back at her, doing my best to cover my cock with my hands, even if I might need another four hands to actually pull that off given my size. It’s not that I’m embarrassed at being hard, I just don’t want to freak her out any more than she already is.
“Safe house,” I growl quietly. “Where you’ll be safe.”
Gavin snorts next to me, and I elbow him hard. But Charlotte seems to smile.
“That sounds…” she bites her lip impishly. “Safe?”
Gavin snickers, and I elbow him again.
“Are you hurt?” I growl softly.
She shakes her head.
“I can come back there if you’re… you know…” I frown. “If you’re…”
“Freaking out?”
I smile softly, nodding, and she nods.
“I—yeah, sure.” She bites her lip. “Please.”
I nod, undoing my seatbelt. I start to crawl back, and Charlotte gasps at my nudity, and at my still-hard cock.
“Oh, God, I’m… sorry, I—”
“It’s you,” I growl.
Charlotte frowns. “Pardon?”
I smile as I sink into the seat next to her and reach down to grab whatever I can off the floor of the old beater, which ends up being an old baseball hat. Wonderful. I place it over my stubbornly big erection, which is honestly just comical. But I shrug and turn back to her.
“This, I mean,” I mutter, nodding at my lap. “It’s you. I just mean it’s not like I get hard shooting people.”
She blushes wildly and bites back a grin. Gavin chuckles from the driver’s seat.
“Who were those men? And who…”
She frowns, and I know she wants to say, “and who are you,” but she just stops.
“Russian Bratva, I think,” I growl. “But if nothing, else, they were men who wanted to hurt you, and we weren’t going to let that happen.”
Gavin yanks the wheel, and the car dips down a driveway into an underground parking garage. He pulls to the end and turns the engine off, parking us right next to a stairwell.
“We’re here,” he growls.
I nod and open the door, turning to help Charlotte out. Her eyes slip down my body, and I can see her blush as they land on my hand still holding the hat over my dick. Gavin comes around to her side of the car, not a care in the world apparently about his own half-hard cock.
“This way, love,” he purrs, eying Charlotte before he turns to the stairwell door. She follows him, and I follow her, and I won’t even try to say I’m not staring at her tight little ass peeking out from under the tails of my shirt on the way up the stairs.
At the top, while Gavin’s unlocking the door to the safe house apartment, she finally asks it.
“Okay, stop,” she finally says with a shaky voice. She steps back away from us, eying us both with a hard look.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Could ask you the same question,” Gavin mutters.
“Oh, me?” she snaps. “See, you already know me, apparently. You knew my name, at least, and when those guys broke in…” her eyes narrow. “Actually, yeah, let’s talk about that.”
Gavin frowns. “About how we saved you?”
“About how you were there in like one fucking second,” she spits back.