Ruled by her Daddies (Harem of Daddies)
Aleki grinned. “Not our girl. If something isn’t getting blown up, she’s not happy.”
He had that right.
“I’ll set the air-conditioning on low and get a blanket for us,” Caleb stated, moving to the thermostat.
Aleki jumped up. “I’ll get some popcorn.”
“And a protein drink,” Wolfe yelled after him.
She pouted. “I don’t need a protein drink.”
“You’re having one,” Wolfe told her.
“I’m full from dinner.”
“You barely ate dinner.”
She sighed and shook her head at him. “You’re terrible to argue with.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t argue with me.”
She snorted. “Nice try. I don’t argue with you and you’ll become a complete dictator.”
“Princess, I already am.” With someone else, that statement might have been said teasingly. But he was deadly serious.
The ass.
She let out a sigh but took the protein drink when Aleki handed it to her with a wink. It had a straw and a little umbrella.
“Ooh, cute, an umbrella.”
“You can pretend it’s a cocktail,” he told her, settling in next to her with popcorn on his lap. Caleb returned with the blanket, settling in next to her and placing it over the three of them. Wolfe grabbed the remote and sat on the armchair. She kind of wished he would join them on the sofa, but she knew he liked his space.
“Can I have some popcorn?”
“After your drink,” Wolfe said.
She pouted. “Stop being so mean.”
He turned and pointed at her. “Drink. Or I’ll put it in the baby bottle and feed it to you.”
She blushed bright red and squirmed as the memory of the last time she was fed came back to her. Why did she want that? She felt equally embarrassed and intrigued.
“Hmm, I think she might enjoy that,” Aleki murmured. She turned to look at him. His face had warmed. Softened.
“Is that so?” Wolfe asked, eyeing her.
She decided it might be in her best interests to just drink the darn drink.
Damn them all.
* * *
At the end of the movie, the bad guys had been obliterated and she’d had enough high-speed car chases to feed her addiction for a while.
“Jesus, that was bad,” Caleb joked.
“None of that was even remotely well researched,” Wolfe added. “They never reloaded their Glock 17s, despite one guy firing it over thirty times. The blood splatter in the murder scene looked like someone had finger painted with it. And the girl totally should have ended up with the bad guy.”