Dynasty (Boys of Winter 1)

It’s just past six in the morning, and after lying awake for the last hour, I slipped out from under Carver’s arm and decided to get a start on my day. After all, I have a life to figure out.

“You’re up early,” I say to the guys, stopping by the fridge and scanning through it before letting out a sigh and deciding to focus all my attention on the complicated coffee machine sitting on the counter, staring at me as though it’s daring me to try and figure it out.

I start fiddling as Grayson takes a bite of toast. “Got things to do.”

“Like what?” I grumble. “It’s just after six in the morning. You have hours before you need to be at school. Wait … what day is it? Wednesday?”

Grayson’s stare drops back to his plate, making it clear that his daily routine is absolutely none of my damn business, but did he really have to snub my question? I’m still in the dark on the whole Wednesday thing.

Cruz gets up from the table and steps right into my back, placing his coffee down on the counter beside me and pressing his whole body up against mine, letting me feel everything he has on offer. “Need some help?” he grumbles into my ear, both his hands coming down on the counter on either side of my hips.

A shiver runs down my spine, electricity pulsing through my body, and I can’t help but press my ass back into him. Cruz pushes back, his hand falling from the counter and sweeping around my waist. “I think I can handle it.”

“Uh-huh,” he whispers, reaching around me with his other hand to press a few buttons on the coffee machine and get the stupid thing running. Silence falls between us as the machine does its thing but he doesn’t dare step away from me. He stays exactly where he is, his hand slipping under the hem of my shirt and skirting across my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

My eyes roll back and I thank the heavens above that neither of the boys can see my face right now because it would completely give away the fact that I’m starting to crush on this flirtatious bad boy, which right now, is exactly what I don’t need. You know, considering that I’ve been sleeping in Carver’s bed while also screwing King until I scream for mercy.

Shit. How did I get myself in this situation?

The coffee machine beeps and Cruz reaches around me to grab the mug before pressing it into my hands. “Coffee?” he questions.

I do everything I can to wipe the cheesy smile off my face as I take it from him and turn in his arms until his green eyes are staring down into mine. “Thank you,” I murmur, holding the mug with both hands to avoid the possibility of my other hand roaming where it shouldn’t go.

Cruz leans into me and presses the softest kiss to my cheek, holding his face right by mine for a second longer as the words, “My pleasure,” come rushing from between his lips, gently brushing across my skin.

Without another word, Cruz takes a step back before turning away and walking back over to the table. I follow his lead and take a seat opposite the boys, and just as I lift the mug to my lips, King walks through to the kitchen, his hair ruffled from sleep and still wearing the grey sweatpants from last night, his shirt still missing and giving me the perfect view of his strong torso.

King’s hand rubs over his chest and the movement has me snapping out of it and realizing that I’ve been staring, and most likely drooling too. He walks deeper into the kitchen and as my gaze raises to meet his eyes, I find his curious stare already boring into mine.

His eyes shine with our dirty little secret as he cuts across the kitchen and hits the buttons of the coffee machine. I hide a smile, knowing that if anyone was to look my way, our secret would be exposed in a heartbeat, and I’m not exactly down for having to explain what I’ve been up to. Though Grayson caught me coming out of Carver’s room that first time and has been witness to all of Cruz’s shameless flirting, so there’s a possibility that the cat’s already out of the bag.

I force myself to look away from King as he crosses to the pantry for a box of cereal. He starts getting his breakfast sorted out and I focus solely on the mug in my hands while trying to figure out what the fuck is going on between us. We’re sleeping together, but do I actually like the guy? I don’t know. I guess apart from furious warnings, scowls, and glares, we haven’t actually had a proper conversation. Apart from the fact that his cock is fantastically impressive, I really know nothing about him. Fuck, I can’t even remember his first name.