Breakers (Academy of Stardom Book 3)

Pen

By the time we return to the flat it’s the early hours of Sunday morning and I’m dead on my feet. Wrapping my arms around York’s waist, I lean into his hold as we stand in the kitchen whilst Dax prepares everyone a drink. Water for me, tea for York and coffee for the rest of them.

“How do you feel about everything?” Xeno asks me. His eyes are shadowed with dark circles, and I see the weight of what we’ve spent the last four hours discussing sitting heavily on his shoulders.

I rub my temple. “Like my head’s about to explode.”

“Yeah, I can relate,” Zayn says, giving me a rueful smile.

“It’s a lot to get your head around, but we’re nearly there. D-Neath will be taking the shipment of Dancing Shoes in a couple weeks’ time.”

“I can’t believe that’s what they’ve named the drug,” I say. “It turns my stomach.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty fucked up. The ballet shoes are a nice touch,” York adds sarcastically.

“Once the shipment arrives at the Academy and part of it is successfully replaced with a placebo drug, things will start moving quickly,” Xeno continues. “It won’t be long before word on the street gets out that Jeb is distributing poor quality drugs to the various crews around the country, but more importantly, that Santiago can no longer be trusted as a supplier.”

“Yeah, shit will hit the fan pretty quickly. People pay good money for a high, and when they don’t get what they’re promised there’ll be hell to pay,” Zayn says.

“Why not swap all of the drugs out?”

Xeno cocks his head and scrapes a hand over his jaw. “Because it would be too obvious. We need Santiago to question the whole supply chain. Right from the factory where the drugs are made and packaged up in Cuba, all the way through to the people selling them on the street.”

“But if you’re right about David, then he’ll lay blame firmly on Jeb,” I point out.

“Either way, Santiago will have to deal with the issue,” Xeno says with a shrug. “It doesn’t matter what gets Santiago over here, just that he does get over here. As Hudson explained, Santiago’s reputation is extremely important to him. As much of a cunt he is, he prides himself on providing quality drugs. We mess with that; we mess with his whole business plan.”

“Makes sense, but the fact that Interpol is allowing a large proportion of the drugs out into the general population surprises me,” I admit, rubbing at my head. Even York’s gentle kisses are doing nothing to ease the growing ache.

“I get it, but if we swap out all the drugs it will be too obvious. The key to this whole plan is Santiago losing faith in the supply chain. Everything we’ve put into place will eventually lead him right to Jeb’s doorstep, or if we’re right about David, he’ll get Santiago there quicker. Santiago won’t tolerate that kind of betrayal, and his pride won’t allow him to send someone else in to punish Jeb,” Zayn explains.

“Kill him, you mean,” York points out, holding me a little tighter.

Zayn nods tightly. “Yeah, exactly.”

I frown. “And if he doesn’t come?”

“Then we go to Plan B,” Xeno says.

I frown. “Plan B? Grim and Hudson didn’t mention a Plan B.”

Xeno watches me closely. “That’s because we’ve not discussed it with them.”

“What do you mean you’ve not discussed it with them?”

“We’ve worked with Hudson for the last year to ensure that this plan works. Hudson and Grim strongly believe we’ll be able to draw out Santiago this way, and that when he confronts Jeb on UK soil, Interpol will sweep in and they’ll both be arrested…” Xeno explains.

“But you’re not convinced?”

He shakes his head. “I’m a realist, Tiny. There’s a good chance Santiago will fall for the trap, and if he does, then fucking perfect. Like a lot of criminals, he’s arrogant, and he’s been in and out of the country before without getting caught. Most likely he has help. There are as many dodgy police in the UK as there are in the rest of the world.”

“And yet, you’ve got a Plan B just in case.”

“Always gotta have a Plan B,” York quips, grinning down at me. He might be smiling, and pretending to be all chill, but his eyes are telling me a different story.

“What is this Plan B?” I persist, not liking the way all four of my men are looking cagey as fuck. “Xeno?”

“I’ll kill them both.”

“What?!” I snap.

“And after I put them down, I’ll pay a visit to your brother and put a bullet in his head too.”

For a second I just stare at him open mouthed. Then the reality of this stupid fucking Plan B sinks in. “No. No way. That’s suicide and you know it!” I shout, my voice betraying me.

“Titch—” York begins, but I shove out of his hold and within two steps have my fingers pressed into Xeno’s chest.

“Don’t you even think about it! That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever fucking heard. They’ll kill you!”

“Not if I kill them first,” he shrugs, smiling down at me like this is all some big fucking joke.

“Xeno, it isn’t funny. Are you insane?”

“No, just really good at assassinating people.” This time he doesn’t smile, and a shiver tracks down my spine at the implication of his words, at the confidence in his gaze. He’s done this before.

“Then Plan A has to work,” I say, stubbornly. “No matter what.”

“That’s the idea,” Xeno replies, capturing my hand in his and kissing my knuckles. I step forward into his arms and drop my head against his chest. A moment later he wraps his arms around me and hauls me close. “We got this, Tiny.”

I groan in his arms; my headache feels like little knives stabbing into my brain. “I’m not feeling so great,” I admit.

“Here, take these,” Dax says, passing me the glass of water and some painkillers, before kissing me on the temple. He looks at Xeno, then back at me. “You need to sleep.”

“I agree. We can discuss anything else once you’ve had some rest,” Xeno says, taking the proffered mug of black coffee from Dax.

“That sounds like a really good idea, actually,” I reply, beginning to see stars from all the pain.

“Go and get some rest,” Xeno orders.

“Aren’t you going to bed?” I ask, looking between them all.

“I wanna go over a few details of the plan with Zayn. There are a few things I want to smooth out and he knows Jeb the best.”

“Don’t you need York and Dax too?” I ask.

“Nope,” he responds, a look passing between them all.

“Guess that means we should go to bed then,” York says softly, wrapping his arm back around my shoulder and brushing his lips across the top of my head.

“To sleep,” Dax adds firmly, giving York a look.

“To sleep,” he agrees.

I wake up several hours later, with a thick, tattooed arm laying across my waist and the covers tangled up around our legs. Dax is still fast asleep, his breath tickling my skin. He looks so peaceful, not to mention completely delicious. I reach up and brush my fingers across the crease in his brow. He mutters in his sleep, snuggling closer.

“You know, he is pretty fucking adorable when he’s asleep,” York remarks softly, a twinkle in his eyes when I turn to face him. He has his head propped up on his hand as he looks down at us both. My heart stutters in my chest at how fucking beautiful he is with his white-blonde hair flopping over his forehead and bare chest covered in his oak tree tattoo. Laughter lights in his eyes.

“What?” I whisper, lifting my hand to trail my fingers lightly over the lifelike trunk. I feel his heart beating fast beneath my fingers, especially when they trail lower over the roots of the tree, disappearing beneath the waistband of his joggers.

“You didn’t even flinch at his morning breath,” he replies, swallowing hard, his joke lost beneath the lust swirling in his eyes.

“Stop it. He doesn’t have smelly breath,” I retort, smothering a laugh as I shift in Dax’s hold so that I’m on my side facing York.

York wrinkles his nose. “You love him that much you’re willing to forgive his stinky breath, huh?” he asks, his hand coming up to rest between my breasts, just above the spot where Dax’s arm is still thrown across me. I suck in a sharp breath as the edge of his hand rests against the curve of my breast and his fingertips run across the neckline of my vest top.

“Stop being mean,” I whisper. Behind me Dax lets out a mumble of incoherent words. “Just count yourself lucky that I love you enough to forgive your morning breath.”

“I don’t have morning breath,” he counters, showing me a beautiful white, straight-toothed smile. “I just cleaned my teeth thank you very much.”

I shake my head and pull a face, covering my nose. “Are you sure?” I joke, holding in a laugh as he huffs a breath into his cupped hand.

“Not funny, Titch,” York grins, his hand rising from my chest to cup my jaw. He lowers his head to rest on the pillow beside mine, then runs the tip of his nose over the bridge of mine. It’s a really sweet, affectionate move that makes my heart swell. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

“I could say the same to you.”

He smiles, stroking my face with his fingers as he watches me closely, his gaze sliding over my face, pausing on my lips for a moment before rising back up to look in my eyes.

“I want to ask you something,” he says, serious all of a sudden as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Am I your favourite, is that why you’ve saved the best ‘til last?”

For a moment I think he is actually being serious, but when his lip starts twitching and a laugh bursts out of his mouth, I shake my head giving him a shove. Behind me, Dax mutters in his sleep, disturbed by our laughter. “Shh, you’ll wake Dax up.”

“Uh-huh,” York responds leaning in close again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask, licking my bottom lip. I know full well what he’s about to do and my heart hammers at the anticipation of his kiss. I feel warm and safe. Being here, sandwiched between two of the men I love seems completely natural, just like it had when I’d made love with Zayn yesterday and Xeno had watched.

“Proving that you’ve saved the best for last,” he says, before kissing me with a peppermint tongue.

I smile into his mouth as he slides his hand over my thigh and hip and presses the length of his body against mine. He’s hard, I can feel just how hard through the thin material of my sleep shorts and his soft flannel pyjama bottoms which, incidentally, are surprisingly sexy on him.

I hook my leg over his so that I can rub against him. “Hmm,” I hum, loving the feel of him against my aching core.

“Fuck, Titch,” he mumbles against my lips, his hips grinding against me as we dry hump and kiss with muffled moans, Dax’s arm still trapped between us.

“Shit, well that’s certainly something to wake up too,” Dax chuckles sleepily as he shifts closer behind me, his open mouth pressed against the spot where my neck meets my shoulder.

“Hands off my cock, big boy,” York retorts, pulling back to look at Dax behind me before dropping his gaze lower. He’s grinning and the love I feel emanating from him makes me go all gooey inside.

“Wait, that’s your cock?” Dax exclaims in mock horror.

“Well it certainly ain’t yours, mate.”

Even though I burst out laughing at their playfulness, my cheeks heat. “Oh my God, you two!”

“Want to let it go now?” York chuckles.

“Gladly. I’ve got better things to hold onto anyway,” Dax quips, his large hand cupping my breast gently as his mouth lowers back to my shoulder. The sensation of his hot mouth, teeth and tongue sliding over my skin sends sparks flying down my spine. With heavy-lidded eyes, and my hips grinding against York’s cock, I arch my neck allowing Dax better access. He doesn’t disappoint me, and I let out little mewls of appreciation as his large hand cups my jaw and he smothers me in kisses.

“Keep making those noises, Titch, and I might just come in my pants right now. It’s been agony keeping away whilst these other bastards had their wicked way with you,” York says roughly as he reaches for the waistband of my shorts and slides them down my legs, leaving me bare below. Gently his finger grazes over my slit and he growls when he finds me wet and wanting.

Dax chuckles, shaking his head. “Don’t you dare, motherfucker. Our girl needs to come at least twice before you do.”

“Damn right,” York smirks, reaching for my top and helping me to remove it. Now I’m completely naked and at the mercy of these men.

“Fuck, Kid. I’ve been dreaming about fucking your pussy with my tongue again,” Dax groans, sliding down my body and positioning himself between my legs. “Look at that, York, can you see her pretty little cunt, all pink and wet for us?”

I watch Dax as his tattooed hands grip my thighs gently as he settles between them. York smiles languidly, his hand snaking beneath the waistband of his joggers as he watches Dax part my pussy lips with his fingers. “Beautiful,” he grinds out.

“Eat her out, Dax. Fuck our girl with your tongue. Make her come,” York encourages before lowering his mouth over my breast and sucking my nipple into his mouth.

“Gladly,” Dax replies, licking me from core to clit in one firm stroke.

“Fuck!” I cry, my hips jerking, one hand curling into York’s hair, pulling him close against my chest, whilst the other cups the back of Dax’s head and my hips rise to meet his mouth. Heat builds within my core as I throw my head back and writhe beneath them, a long groan curling out of my mouth like smoke from a cigarette.

“Look at you,” York cries, pulling back and staring at me as his fingers slide between my legs beneath Dax’s lips and tongue. I can’t tell where his fingers start and Dax’s tongue ends. I just feel heat, a blazing beautiful heat as these two men love me with their tongues and their lips, their words and their hands.

“Watch, Titch. Watch how we love you,” York demands, sliding his arm beneath the pillow I’m resting my head on and lifting me up slightly. My eyes trail downwards, my elbows digging into the mattress as I attempt to hold myself upright. I meet Dax’s grey-green gaze, the whole bottom half of his face buried between my legs as his tongue plunges in and out of my core.

“Look at my fingers on your clit and Dax’s tongue deep inside your pussy. Do you like that, Titch?” he asks me.

“Yes,” I pant as they work in tandem, York’s fingers alternate between circling my clit and gently holding my pussy lips apart as Dax licks me between his parted fingers. It’s so fucking hot and I feel the familiar swirling sensation in the pit of my stomach as an orgasm builds.

“I’m going to come,” I pant, throwing my head back and letting out a lust-filled cry as my legs begin to shake, my nipples pebble, and my skin flushes. Prickles of sensation slide down my spine as York groans and Dax talks dirty to me this time.

“Watch me fuck your sweet pussy. Watch us fucking love you,” Dax urges.

I lift my head back up, my chest heaving as I do as he asks.

I watch with lust and love as Dax pushes two thick, tattooed fingers inside of me.

I watch with my heart fucking racing as York’s thumb circles my clit over and over again.

I watch with a cry trapped in my throat as Dax locks eyes with me then sucks York’s glistening fingers into his mouth.

Into his mouth.

The sound that releases from their throats has me quaking, and my core gushing as I come.

I come as Dax deepthroats York’s fingers.

I come so hard that my arms give way and I fall back onto the bed, my spine arched, my toes curled into the bedsheet, a guttural moan ripping out of my throat.

Did I just imagine that? Did Dax just suck my cum of off York’s fingers?

“Fuck! Oh Fuck, that was so… so…” I cry, unable to articulate how turned on I am. How fucking sexy it was to watch.

“Now that is how you tickle a pickle,” York chuckles before leaning over and kissing me roughly. When he finally pulls back, Dax is lying to my left, stroking his large hands over my breasts.

“Do you do that often… Are you…?”

“Gay?” York laughs, then shakes his head. “No. I mean, I love this fucking brute, and I appreciate a good looking guy, but it’s you who makes me hard, Titch. We love you. You’re the center of our fucking universe and we just want to turn you the fuck on. Did that turn you on?”

“Yes,” I admit. How could it not? I briefly wonder what else Dax would be willing to put into his mouth and my cheeks flame at the thought.

“Tell us what you want.”

“Right now, I want you to make love to me, York. I need you to do that,” I reply, not brave enough yet to express my deepest fantasies.

“Then that’s what he’ll do,” Dax says, running his lips over the shell of my ear. “And I’m going to watch York fuck you, Kid. I’m going to stroke my cock whilst he does, and when you’re about to come I’m going to slide my finger in your arse. I’m gonna fill you up until you beg us for release, then I’m going to spill my seed all over that beautiful arse of yours,” Dax rumbles between nips and kisses on my neck and ear.

“Oh God,” I blurt out.

York’s gaze darkens. His pupils are so wide that I can barely see the blue that I love so much. “Fuck me, mate, you sure have a way with words,” he jokes, but his voice is thick with lust.

“Zayn’s not the only smooth talker,” Dax replies, grasping my chin before kissing me deeply.

“Hmm, a Titch sandwich. Just what I wanted for breakfast. Which side are you gonna be?”

Dax grins. “I thought I made that clear. I’m bottom.”

We quickly undress each other until Dax and York are as naked as I am. When we’ve been kissing and caressing and exploring each other for what seems like hours, I straddle York’s naked body and position myself above his sheathed cock. We lock eyes, and there’s no question of how York feels for me. None.

His love is unmistakable, and I bask in it.

“That’s it, Kid. Wrap your beautiful pussy around York’s cock. Fill yourself up,” Dax grinds out as he settles behind me, between York’s parted legs.

Grasping York’s cock gently in my fist, I slowly lower myself over his thick length until he’s fully seated inside of me, my internal walls fisting him tight.

“Fuuucckkk!” York exclaims, his head rolling back, the veins in his neck popping beneath his skin.

“Don’t blow your load just yet,” Dax chuckles, his large hands finding my hips as he helps me to slide up and down York’s cock. “Keep moving, Kid. Keep fucking York just like that,” Dax encourages me, his hand running over my stomach and his fingers sliding between my legs as he plays with my clit from behind.

“Fuck, Titch, I’m so close,” York blurts out, his gaze is heated and full of love, his fingers gripping my hips as I move above him.

“Me too,” I whimper, my palms pressing against York’s abs, my fingernails biting into his skin. When I’m close to coming, Dax swaps hands and presses his wet fingers between the crack of my arse cheeks. When he rims my arse gently, I let out a cry, jerking at his touch. It’s surprisingly sensitive and I push back against his finger, saying without words what I want him to do.

“That’s it, baby,” he says, his voice guttural as he gradually presses his finger into the tight hole.

With a cry I lean forward against York’s chest, my clit rubbing against his pelvis whilst his cock slams into me and Dax’s finger remains seated in my arse. With every thrust of my hips, I’m closer to the edge, I’m chasing that high, and when York’s arms wrap around my back and he sinks his teeth into the tender skin of my neck, I come apart.

Not long after, so do my men.