Page 17 of Undying Resilience

“Shit,” Elliot groans. “You’re too fucking good at this, O.”

It only makes Oliver work more enthusiastically. Within a minute, Elliot’s eyes are squeezing shut as the tension in his body builds.

“Fuck,” I whisper. Then louder, “Cover him in your cum, Ell. Don’t make him wait.”

Oliver moans in anticipation, and Elliot can’t hold out any longer. He comes, letting out a loud groan as he does. Once he’s finished, he falls on his side, panting.

“Jesus,” Oliver says, staring down at himself. “That’s a lot.”

We all take a couple minutes to catch our breath. Then I head into the bathroom to wash my hands and grab a washcloth—maybe two or three washcloths. After cleaning up Oliver, I move to clean my dick, but he stops me.

“I’ve got it,” he says. “You look like you’re ready to fall over.”

I am.

I collapse onto the bed, my eyelids too heavy to keep open. Oliver takes the washcloth and presses a kiss to my forehead. It’s the last thing I remember before drifting off to sleep.

Chapter five

Wren

When I get off my shift, Finn is waiting for me. This is my first time meeting him, but the guys showed me a picture of him so I know what he looks like.

I come around the counter with my bag, and he stands. The man towers over me even with his shoulders slightly hunched. Tattoos expand over every inch of his skin except for his face. That paired with the fact that he’s wearing all black makes him look intimidating as hell.

No wonder the guys wanted him looking after me.

“So you’re Wren. Heard a lot about you.”

I nod. “Nice to meet you.”

He looks me up and down before shaking his head. “We’ll see if you feel that way by the end of the week.”

I’m about to ask what he means, but he’s already halfway out the door. I scramble to keep up with him. He’s silent the entire walk home, keeping a brisk pace that has me panting by the time we’re walking into my apartment building.

In the elevator, he presses the button to my floor. Once the doors are closed, he turns to me, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head like he’s deep in thought. “Shoulders back.”

“What?”

“Keep your shoulders back,” Finn says. “And don’t stand with your feet so close together.”

What the fuck?

I adjust my posture, straightening my spine and spreading my feet so they’re shoulder-width apart. “Like this?”

“Get that questioning look off your face. Ruins the whole thing.”

Seriously?

Crossing my arms over my chest, I say, “Listen, I appreciate you keeping me safe. But don’t—”

“Oh, that’s a much better expression. Crossing your arms helps too.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“If I attacked you right now, would you be able to defend yourself?”

“N-no.”