More weeks passed.

They still shared a bed, and fuck, Summers had never gone so hard at the gym in his life. His dick was practically weeping every day for attention from something other than his own hand.

And the fucking boys were not helping.

They spooned him, sprawled across him and buried their faces in the crook of his neck.

Fuck, it was torture.

The names had grown increasingly ridiculous.

Archibald Aloysius Avocado Summers the Fourth.

Honestly, Summers almost wished it really was his name, simply because it made the boys laugh every time they said it.

And, of course, the fucking disasters had gotten terminally horny again.

Because of course they had.

They were once more watching the security feeds, bored out of their fucking minds. Ben was cleaning his nine-millimetre again, purely to keep his hands occupied.

Onscreen, two impossibly attractive people emerged from one of the hotel rooms with what appeared to be a giant wolf on a leash.

Seriously, what kind of fucking dog was that?

The pair belonged to an unusual group that had arrived earlier: the impossibly handsome man and hot-as-fuck woman currently onscreen, the enormous wolf accompanying them, a polished man in a suit and a woman dressed entirely in black.

They were an anomaly.

Which, naturally, made them catnip to the boys.

Hart squinted at the screen while munching on chocolate-covered peanuts.

“What kind of dog is that? The thing’s a fucking horse. How did they even get it into the hotel?”

Kyle was pouring boiling water into a cup of noodles, along with whatever convenience-store trimmings had taken his fancy that day. Honestly, some of his creations were surprisingly good.

He shrugged.

“You saw the car they arrived in. They’re obviously loaded.”

Ben clicked the last component of his nine-millimetre back into place.

“I’d fuck either of those two, and I’m straight.”

“Same,” Hart said dryly.

Kyle glanced towards the screens, amused.

“Do you think the guy in the suit is banging all three of them?”

“When you’re that rich,” Ben said, “you could probably pay to screw the entire hotel.”

Ben smirked.

“That tall woman in black? I’d let her crush me beneath her heel and thank her for the honour.”

Summers could not help but agree that she looked terrifying.

The entire group set his instincts on edge, though, especially the suited man. There was something about him that felt far too similar to their boss for comfort.

Rather than dwell on it, Summers asked Ben, “You’d let her peg you, would you?”

He already hated that he knew the answer.

“Sure fucking would,” Ben replied without hesitation. “I haven’t been laid in so long that I’m one misplaced morning wood away from losing my butt virginity.”

Summers groaned inwardly, practically weeping inside.

“Why the fuck did I take this job? Locked in here with you degenerates every damn day.”

Kyle slurped his noodles loudly.

“You fucking love us.”

Summers refused to acknowledge that.

Hart glanced back at the monitor.

“Huh. Maybe Suit Guy really is banging all of them.”

They all leaned closer.

Another pair had emerged from the same suite as the couple with the wolf. One was the tall woman dressed in sleek black. The other was Suit Guy, immaculate in a perfectly tailored suit, his slate-grey hair far too similar to their boss’s for Summers’s comfort.

They were holding hands.

Suit Guy had been holding hands with the others earlier.

Now the pair headed in the opposite direction from the wolf trio.

“Maybe they’re in a polycule,” Kyle offered.

Ben frowned. “What’s a polycule?”

“Pretty much what we are,” Hart said.

“Ah.”

Ben accepted that as though it made perfect sense.

Summers really needed to go to the gym again.

“Where the hell are they going?” Ben asked, his eyes narrowing.

The feeds followed the couple down another corridor.

Hart straightened suddenly.

“That’s our floor.”

Summers moved at once, crossing to the peephole.

“Got a visual.” He paused. “Fuck, Ben was right. She looks like she’d step on you and make you say thank you.”

Ben shoved against him.

“Out of the way. Let me see.”

Then every hair on Summers’s body rose.

He went pale and turned towards the others, his voice dropping low.

“Guys…”

All three looked at the feed.

The couple had stopped directly outside their door.

A sharp knock cut through the room.

Silence.

Weapons were seized without a word.

Four bored men became very, very alert.

🥜🥜🥜

On the surveillance feed, the man outside their door pulled out a phone and dialled.

A phone began ringing inside the room.

All four men turned towards Hart as he fumbled for his mobile with one hand while keeping hold of his gun with the other. He frowned at the caller ID.

“Do you think it’s him?”

Kyle shrugged. “Answer it.”

Hart accepted the call.

“This is Hart.”

He put it on speaker.

A cultured voice responded immediately.

“Ah, yes. Francis Hart. Would you please let us in? I have a job offer for you, Benjamin Hodgson, Kyle Su and Ashley Summers Junior.”

Every head turned towards Summers.

Ben blinked as though he could not possibly have heard correctly.

“Your name is Ashley?”

Hart raised an eyebrow. “You’re a junior?”

Summers glared at them, irrationally furious that some stranger had just robbed them of the ritual they had spent weeks building.

“Shut the fuck up. And how the fuck does he know that?”

The humour drained from the room.

They exchanged uneasy glances.

Hart turned his attention back to the phone.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who are you?”

“What kind of job?” Kyle added.

Ben leaned closer. “What’s the pay?”

All four phones pinged at once.

“My name is Milo Magnus,” the man replied. “And the position pays considerably more than you are earning now. You would not be confined to a room all day, and the conditions are far more agreeable for people with your particular skill sets.”

Ben was already opening the document.

“Security work in a town called Thornewood.” He glanced at the others. “Anyone ever heard of it?”

Kyle frowned. “Isn’t that the hippy place with the university?”

Ben nodded as he continued scrolling.

“If this is legitimate, I’m in. Fuck the boss.”

Ben clutched his head as blood began to trickle from his nose. Summers’s heart lurched.

Ben panted through the agony.

The voice on the phone remained calm.

“Whether you accept the position or not, I fully intend to free you from your blood pacts. Afterward, you may go wherever you please.”

For a moment, Summers was not certain he had heard correctly.

All four men stared at one another in stunned silence.

A flicker of fragile, hesitant hope moved across their faces.

Kyle made a subtle hand signal, part of the private language they had developed for anything too dangerous to say aloud.

The blood pact was one of those things.

Summers turned towards the door.

“I’m afraid we cannot agree.”

“That is perfectly fine,” Milo replied. “I understand. Please stand back. My companion will now enter and detain you.”

They barely had time to process the warning.

The door exploded inward beneath a single kick.

All four raised their weapons.

Too late.

The woman was on them in an instant.

She disarmed them with brutal grace and terrifying precision, striking wrists, sweeping legs and driving bodies into the carpet hard enough to knock the breath from their lungs. Within seconds, every weapon had been scattered beyond reach, and all four men were pinned in an undignified pile beneath one polished boot.

Ben wheezed.

“Fuck. I’ve never been so turned on in my life.” He swallowed. “Thank you.”

Kyle groaned beneath him.

“That had better not be your dick pressing into my ass.”

“Oh, it is,” Ben said shamelessly.

Milo stepped through the ruined doorway and calmly began helping the woman cuff and restrain them. They worked together with fluid, practised efficiency.

Kyle shifted experimentally beneath the pile.

“I think I’m turned on.”

“Same,” Hart said.

Summers said nothing.

He was painfully hard against the floor.

Fuck.

He had never known he could enjoy being handled by a woman like that. Worse, his traitorous brain was already imagining how badly he wanted her to do it again.

Once they were secured, Milo lifted the woman’s hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

“Thank you for not killing them.”

She smiled and brushed a feather-light kiss across his lips.

“You’re welcome.”

Ben gasped.

“You are totally in a polycule, aren’t you?”

Milo raised an eyebrow, then brushed his nose as if sheepish.

“Something like that.”

Ben turned towards the woman.

“What’s his secret?”

“Is it because he’s rich?” Kyle asked.

Clearly amused, she arched one eyebrow.

“Far from it.” She met Milo’s gaze with a teasing smile. “He’s actually a sex god.”

Milo blinked, his mouth falling open in disbelief as if he’d never heard her tease.

All four restrained men turned to stare at him.

Ben immediately perked up.

“Can you teach us your ways?”

“Me too,” Kyle added.

“Me three,” Hart said.

Summers was overwhelmed, painfully aroused and beginning to suspect he had finally become so horny that he was hallucinating.

He shrugged as well as the restraints allowed.

“Fuck it. Where do we get in line?”

Milo pinched the bridge of his nose and released a long-suffering sigh.

“If you accept the position, it includes a copy of Mind, Body, and Willing Touch. What you choose to do with that information is entirely your business.”

The four men exchanged a look.

Was this seriously happening?

Milo continued.

“I have a team on its way to escort you to your new residence. From there, you will be introduced to your supervisors and scheduled for the removal of your blood pacts. Please review the proposed contracts carefully. Should you have any questions or concerns, send me an email and we can discuss whatever changes you require.”

Ben stared at him with literal heart eyes.

“Fuck. I’m definitely not straight anymore.” He tugged experimentally at the cuffs. “When do we get the book?”

Summers shot Milo a look.

“Why are you guys even here?”

But the woman was already moving towards the back room where the monster slept.

She kicked the steel door once.

Twice.

On the third strike, the entire thing tore free of its hinges and crashed to the floor with a deafening metallic clang.

Summers, Hart, Ben and Kyle gaped.

And fuck, why was that so fucking hot?

“That was a solid-steel security door,” Hart murmured.

“Who the fuck are these people?” Kyle asked, eyes wide.

Ben groaned.

“Ah, fuck. My dick is so hard it hurts.”

A moment later, the woman emerged from the back room, dragging an unconscious body behind her. She tossed it at Milo’s feet.

“This him?”

It was their boss, unconscious and unmoving.

Milo crouched and lifted the man’s upper lip, revealing the second pair of predatory canines that had begun to emerge beside the first.

“Yes,” Milo said. “He is certainly old enough. The second set does not begin to appear until after a thousand years.”

Summers grimaced as his mind raced, trying to process what that meant.

Beside him, his three disasters shivered.

The woman casually unzipped two body bags.

“What’s the second one for?” Summers asked, immediately assuming the worst.

She did not bother answering.

She planted one polished boot against their unconscious boss’s chest, seized his arm and pulled it clean from its socket.

She dropped it into the first bag.

Then the second arm.

Then both legs.

The four men stared, frozen in a blend of horror and awe.

Summers wanted to kiss those fucking boots.

Kyle whispered, “I’ve never been this turned on during a dismemberment before.”

Ben glanced at him.

“I’m down to give you a hand celebrating later.”

Hart immediately chimed in.

“Do me too.”

Summers sighed.

At this point, he might as well fucking surrender.

“And me.”

Ben beamed.

“Fuck yeah. Group bonding! We are getting wasted for an entire week to forget this fucking room.”

Summers already suspected he would end up babysitting the disasters.

Gods knew he should not be allowed anywhere near alcohol.

“Except today,” Kyle said, watching the woman as though she were something holy.

“Of course,” Ben agreed. Then he looked at her and added, “Those boots are definitely going into the spank bank.”

The others grunted their agreement.

Then she ripped their boss’s head clean off.

And Summers had never seen anything so gods-damned beautiful in his fucking life.

Kyle laughed, feral and unhinged.

They watched as she shoved the head and torso into the second bag.

“My team is here,” Milo said, just as a military squad appeared in the ruined doorway.

Milo gave them a series of crisp, precise instructions, ending with, “Make sure each of them receives a copy of Mind, Body, and Willing Touch upon arrival.”

The soldiers nodded as though this were an entirely routine request and began escorting Summers and his disasters away.

The boys called back over their shoulders.

“Thanks for everything!”

“See you around!”

“Best day of my life!”

Summers could feel the blood-pact headache beginning as they were escorted into a military transport, but compared with everything else, it was little more than background noise.

The boys crowded close around him before the soldiers secured them into their seats.

Then the vehicle pulled away, carrying them towards their next destination.

And gods, Summers was terrified to his core that this was real.