Seven+Four (Angels of Wrath Book 6)

I stop as a long breath leaves my lungs. It’s always cluttered in my place, no matter how often I seem to organize things. Books dominate almost every surface, chairs, the sofa, the table, and kitchen counters. Partially used notebooks are scattered around as well, along with files and pencils because I prefer paper to technology—a horror show for Rami. I’ve never cared much about this apartment; I spend almost all my time in the labs or at the base. I acquired it years back because the building is close to work and in a safe area. I heard Uri saying it is good to invest our money, so I did—he wasn’t very pleased about my impulsive purchase, though. I’ve made a few decisions in my life by myself, always asking for advice first, but I didn’t want to give this up. That was the first time I stood up to him. He sulked for a month, but still came and fell asleep on the sofa in my lab whenever I pulled an all-nighter.

I look around the scarcely furnished living room. The reason why this luxurious apartment never felt like mine is because I never made it mine. Still, being forced to move out leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I run my hand along the small set of lopsided shelves I hung up after buying the place. There’s two framed pictures. One of the whole family around the dinner table—Ollie, Sully, Lori, Hunter, and the triplets included. And one of me and Uri as kids; my eyes fixed on his serious face. I’m beaming at him, while he’s looking straight into the camera, a glare in his gaze.

The thought of being his brother never sat well with me since I was a kid. Growing up, it often gave me a lancing pain somewhere below my sternum. How could he be, when I wanted to kiss the hell out of him?

My phone starts vibrating. Texts are popping in the Bloody Bunch group chat—Rami continues renaming our family chat every few months.

News travels fast among my brothers. There’s a rat infestation in my building, which is more than odd since this is a high-end apartment building, located in River North, one of the most expensive neighborhoods of Chicago.

I’m glad to see Sully’s sassy responses. He looks like he’s getting better these days.

Uri wants me to sell the place and sue the company who takes care of the building. But I don’t want to start a legal war without knowing all the facts. Also I don’t have time to look for another place to live right now.

He’s a fantastic lawyer, meticulous and ruthless, and since Lori went to work for him, he became even more renowned. I just need some time to think.

Raph seems cold and distant, but he always has my back.

He’s here with me now. I hear him moving inside my bathroom, packing the essentials. I’ll be staying with him until this rat infestation problem is resolved.

That must be Bez, the answer sounds too emotional to be Gabe.

Uri makes his way into the living room reminding me I have things to get back to. He’s wearing leather boots, gray jeans, and a cashmere pullover with a V-neck that shows the collar of a white cotton t-shirt underneath. His light brown dreads are up in a pony tail, complementing the barely there brush of stubble over his strong jaw, and making his eyes his most prominent feature. That liquid hazel gaze, large nose, big lips, sharply angled jaw, smooth skin. All those piercings give him a rebellious air. I once had a peek at the end of some ink on his belly. I didn’t know he had tattoos on his body—yet another thing I was unaware of.

His long fingers are wrapped around the boxes he’s holding—how many times have I imagined them curled bruisingly tight around my arms, hips, thighs? Holding me close. Pinning me down. How would he react to me? What kind of voice would he use? What kind of expression would he have? How would it feel? I shouldn’t think about it. But my mind is an endless ocean of churning thoughts. I can’t stop them, only temporarily push them away.

I slide a couple of books inside the duffle bag on the floor before instinctively grabbing the picture of Uri and me and slip it inside. His eyes follow my movement and then lift to mine with that intense look of his—the same one I see in my countless past memories. The small mole on the rise of his cheek moves as a wolfish grin appears on his face. I send him a hesitant half smile before I turn toward the kitchen. He always makes me feel so aware of myself when I rarely do.

“Why all those boxes? I’m not going to stay long at your place,” I ask him, grabbing the only food present inside the cupboard: tea.

“We’ll see,” he replies cryptically, piling more boxes against the wall near the entrance. Albert E. is inside his cage, a thick, red cloth covers it.

Why do I suddenly feel like a little fly getting caught in a spider’s web? I shake off the unsettling sensation and put the tea into the bag.

“Have everything?”

I look around to double-check.

“Don’t worry, the rest will come in a couple of days with the moving truck.”

“Moving truck?” What is he talking about? “Uri, I’m going to crash at your place for a few days, a week tops.”

“Rats and their droppings can carry several diseases, plus when they enter the apartment, they’ll gnaw their way through everything, damaging all your possessions.”

The disease part is the main reason for my moving, and now also the image of gnawed books. Uri knows how much I value them. Don’t want them turned into chew toys. “But will all this fit inside your place?” I haven’t been to his lake house yet, don’t know how big it is.

“Don’t you trust me anymore, Baby Blue?”

That’s the million-dollar question. Do I? I close my eyes for a moment, letting the endearment echo inside my head. Reality, though, comes inexorably back.

“How was meeting your biological brother—Ezra—for the first time?” I ask him. Rami told me about it. Rami did, not Uri. A sense of bitterness starts forming inside my gut. My chest tightens, and I try to grasp that one emotion tangled up in the complex web of feelings I constantly feel for him.

He grabs the bags from my hands. Albert E.’s cage, and a couple more things from the floor as he leads me toward the front door, replying to my question only when we enter the elevator.

“Uneventful. But it’s too early to say anything.”

The twisted sensation at the bottom of my stomach worsens at the hint of interest on his face when talking about his biological brother. His answer is far from satisfying, but I can’t seem to get out another word. My teeth are grinding. I feel so damn…irked. Has it always been like this between us? He doesn’t inform me because he thinks that I can’t be of any help. Too weak. It almost makes me feel like an outsider.

I cross my arms, not able to enjoy the soft fabric of my cowl-neck sweater against my wrists. Uri suddenly pulls on my braid. I’m barely able to stifle the moan about to leave my lips. I was so lost in my angry thoughts, I didn’t realize the elevator stopped in the underground parking.

“What’s wrong?” Uri drops the bags on the ground, pushing his knuckle under my chin to tilt my head up and meet my eyes. I weakly try to shake my head, but his thumb makes me freeze. It’s stroking my chin, tip brushing my lower lip. I’m spellbound. My heart is pounding as my breath gets caught inside my lungs.

Does he have any idea how easily he can enthrall me? His scent alone is getting me high. He shifts those light cinnamon brown eyes to me, and I’m his. It doesn’t mean anything though…not to him.

“I just feel…a little unsettled by the change,” I utter. Which is the truth, or part of it. He’s the catalyst of my disruption, always provoking significant changes in my emotions.

He stares at me for a few more seconds, his gaze nearly piercing a hole in my head. I see his jaw tick, and I’m waiting for more questions. But he lets my chin go and grabs the bags and cage from the floor instead. We make our way across the underground parking to his big car.

I spend most of the ride on my phone talking to Sandy, my PA. We are going through my calendar for next month. There are a few lectures and appearances at a gala and a charity ball. Raph said I need to promote our research company more, that people need to hear science. I think this is his not very subtle way of getting me out of the labs—Michael thinks I’m overworked. Since my whole family is saying it, maybe there’s something there. So I don’t mind meeting people and shaking hands. A lot of changes these days.

I look at Uri confidently driving this monster of a car. His fingers wrap around the wheel as he stops in front of a metal gate. He passes Serena’s face scanner, and after the gates open, steers us down the driveway. The house appearing in front of me is gorgeous. It’s made of wood and gray stones, almost blending with the natural surroundings and featuring large, tall windows. There’s a covered porch going all around the building, perfect for enjoying outdoor dining and the lake view. Hummingbird feeders are hanging from the porch posts, adding a touch of sweet nature to the exterior.

Uri parks the car in front of the garage, and from here I can see a fire pit near the large dock on the lake.

“Welcome home,” he utters before getting out of the car. Such a sweet statement coming from his lips, it makes me shiver not from the cold but anxiousness, for some weird reason. I open the passenger door and place my foot on the step, ready to slide down to the ground. But just as I’m starting the ungraceful descent, Uri appears. He grabs my hips, gliding his hands under my white down jacket and lifts me in the air before slowly letting my body slide down against his until my feet touch the ground.

The light shade of his eyes seems darker—must be a trick of the afternoon light. I can feel the warmth of his hands through the layers of clothes like brands imprinting on my bare skin. It takes only a few seconds to deposit me on the ground, but it’s enough to start a blazing fire inside me. I swallow as my gaze fixes on his lips. His pierced tongue comes out, slicking the plump flesh, and my mind just stops working for a moment.

A distant quack makes me blink, breaking the spell. Uri turns his head in the direction of the lake, and I see a couple of ducks with their green and black feathers taking advantage of an area with less current.

“Let’s go. It’s too cold for you out here.” He grabs my stuff and heads for the front door.

I follow him inside after he goes through another house security check. There’s a lovely, old wood-burning stove in the entryway in perfect condition. The smell of burning logs and the warmth coming from it makes me shudder with delight. I look up, and my lips part at the sight in front of me.

It’s a courtyard surrounded by glass walls. A very old tree is situated in the middle, its skeletal branches reaching in all directions are covered in snow—the whole area is. I can see myself reading one of my books under those boughs when a milder season allows.

“It’s a pomegranate tree,” Uri lets me know.

“Really? My favorite!” I turn to beam at him.

“I know.” The small satisfied smile on his lips tells me everything. He did this for me. I always thought that his attentiveness toward me was guided by gratification. His. He seems to feel pleased when satisfying my needs and desires. It kills me every time.

I focus my attention around me as I make my way down the corridor and into a solarium. The decor is modern, slick, and polished, seemingly untouched since Uri bought the place only last year. I don’t think he has spent much time here, considering the lack of life anywhere in this place. There are some sepia-toned photographs on the walls, and other little touches like a vintage jukebox, shelves covered in books with very familiar titles, and some potted plants—all things I like.

He keeps going into the next room. It’s a living room with a huge TV, a comfy-looking sofa, gently colored, soft rugs, and a stone fireplace. In the corner, there’s quite a large cage—there was another one in the solarium.

“It’s for Albert E.,” Uri answers my silent question as he catches me staring. “I put one in every room in case you want to take your pet with you.”

I know this isn’t for Albert E. He doesn’t approve of him. If it was up to Uri, he’d drop my hairless guinea pig into the sewer. He did this once again for me. And that’s another stab to my already bleeding heart. How can I get over him if he keeps doing stuff like this?

“Come,” he orders as he leaves the room. We pass the large kitchen to stop in front of the next door. It opens to guinea pig heaven.

A metal and plastic fence goes all around the spacious room, the floor is covered in a variety of bedding, tunnels, hiding boxes, and covered areas for Albert E. to retreat to when he feels like he needs a bit of privacy. There are chew sticks, and forage mixes to keep him entertained, a hay rack and even an exercise area with three different wheels.

“The room is kept between 65 and 79 degrees Fahrenheit with good ventilation. A pet service will clean the room twice a week and rotate toys and hideaways every week to keep the environment stimulating,” he says.

The longer I’m with Uri, the deeper I fall in love with him. But how much more profound can the bitter-sweet fall be? Is there even a bottom? A maximum, an end to this love?

“This is…truly amazing. Thank you.”

Uri gives me a light nod, then bends down to remove the cloth from the cage. Albert E. is crumpled up in the corner, his pink body shaking, little nose sniffing the air.

“Hey, Albert E., Uncle Uri bought you a mansion, and we are so grateful to him, aren’t we?” I glance at Uri’s unimpressed face with a smile before returning my attention to my scared pet. “Want to come out and see? You’re going to love it.” I take the cage from his hands and set it in the center of the room. Then I lift the metal latch and open the small door.

“He’ll come out when he’s ready. He needs time to adjust to the new environment,” I tell Uri.

He leads me out of the room.

“What’s behind that door?” I ask him, pointing at the one on the right. It’s made of thick metal and there’s a panel near it.

“Your lab.”

I blink a couple of times at his words. “My what?”

Uri doesn’t reply as he’s already going through the biometric scan and retinal scanner to get into the room.

“These strict security protocols are in place to keep your research safe, only you and I can enter.”

When he opens the door, the pungent smell of acetone and ether invades my nostrils. This lab is huge. There are three long, slick workbenches where I can perform my experiments and a storage area already half filled with materials. Microscopes, centrifuges, spectrometers, incubators, and more instruments are lying on a polished counter near the left wall. Test tubes and shiny beakers of different sizes are lined up on top of metal trays. There’s even a desk with a brand-new laptop and some empty files ideal for data analysis, report writing, and other administrative tasks. But it’s the glass wall with a view of the forest that makes me realize Uri created my perfect lab. I’d described it to him when I was still studying in college. I couldn’t have one exactly how I imagined at Bare-Stone Labs, not even at the base since I had to share my space with others—researchers or brothers.

But he remembered. Uri remembered, and made my dream come true—the IR spectrometer and the HPLC machine, the pale pink lab coat with my name on it hanging from the coat hanger, the cute, fuzzy slippers, the white board covering the entirety of one wall ready to be filled with my thoughts, even the mini fridge full of Lemon Squash soda cans.

“I got the safety features to protect you from potential hazards, the fume hoods, the biosafety cabinets, and even an emergency shower behind that door.” He gazes at the one on the right I didn’t even notice. “This remote controls the electrical shades that cover the whole glass wall.” He lifts it up and shows me which button slides them down and up. Then puts the remote down to grab another. “While this one controls the brightness of the lights all over the room.”

I can’t stand it anymore; I hook my hands behind his head and push my face against his soft sweater, giving him a tight hug. His sandalwood scent fills my lungs, and mixed with the sharp smell of the room, it must be what heaven must smell like. His arms wrap around me instantly, and I feel his lips land on the top of my head. It’s too good; it starts a tingling sensation in my lower region. I don’t want to embarrass myself so I push against his hard pecs, and he lets me go—after a couple of long seconds.

The whirling emotions inside my chest are choking me. “I can’t believe… Thank you.” I raise my glassy eyes to his, attempting so hard at keeping the overwhelming tears back.

His expression doesn’t show anything, but his thumb moves to my cheek to scoop up a runaway tear. He stares at it for a moment with a deep frown on his face.

“Is there something wrong with the lab? Something you want to change?”

It’s easy to forget at times how difficult it is for Uri to recognize other people’s feelings since he’s so good at pretending.

I shake my head. “It’s perfect.” You are perfect. He really is to me.

Uri brings his thumb to his lips and sucks my tear away from the tip, making my guts twist with desire. How much I want to bite that tip and then be punished for it. Oh, God. How disgusted would Uri be if he could read my thoughts?

He guides me out of the room, and after grabbing my bags from the corridor, we move toward the stairs.

We pass two more doors. “This opens to the back porch where there’s a hot tub, and this is to the indoor pool,” he lets me know. Wow, this house has everything.

The second floor cream walls are covered in large pictures of the lake in different seasons. There’s two bedrooms, and a large, open room with a terrace facing the lake. Uri enters the first room, which has a closet—the biggest one I’ve ever seen.

The Baby Blue Eyes flowers on the door panels capture my gaze, making it watery again. It’s like he renovated this place with me in mind. Does this mean he wants me to live here…permanently? His overprotectiveness knows no bounds—I’m well aware of that. And even though I know this was not done out of love, the idea of living with Uri again fills me with so much joy and longing…and sadness.

“I love it,” I whisper; my words are filled with gratitude and appreciation as I brush my fingers over the delicately painted blue petals. Another tear falls down my cheek, but I wipe it off before Uri can do anything—if he touches me right now, I feel like I’d confess to him all my suppressed emotions.

I clear my voice. “Where’s the bed?” I ask him, gazing at the cute silver settee and the inviting chaise lounge.

“In the bedroom,” Uri states, while leaving the bags on the floor. “This is the walk-in closet; the bed is this way.” He signals me to follow him. Oh, but that means there’s only one bedroom, unless there’s more in another part of the house.

The room next door has one violet-blue wall, a large chest of drawers, a cute love seat, huge French windows opening onto a wide balcony—he knows I don’t like confined spaces after being trapped in that cell all those years—an ensuite bathroom, and a huge king bed. Particles of Uri’s rich smell are floating in the air. I can see a pair of his jeans draped over the back of the love seat and some of his earrings on the nightstand on the left side of the bed.

“This is your bedroom,” I exclaim, remaining on the threshold.

“Our bedroom,” he counters, cool as a cucumber.

“Our…bedroom?” I repeat like a parrot. I look at his unfazed expression, confused.

He sits at the foot of the bed and starts to take off his boots and socks. “We used to sleep together.”

“When we were kids,” I remind him.

“Is there another bedroom downstairs?” Or was I mistaken once again, and my staying here is evidently temporary.

“We always sleep together when under the same roof.”

That hasn’t happened in months, though. “I know, but…”

“But what?” He looks annoyed now. Almost on a warpath.

“Nothing. Okay,” I yield. I know there’s no point in arguing with him.

“Unpack while I take a shower.” He disappears behind the bathroom door, leaving me utterly speechless. I’d love to know what’s going on in his mystifying mind, but I’m also afraid of all the darkness existing there.

He’s dominating my every thought again, and I’m living with him. Am I crazy? I must be because I haven’t even taken into consideration to stay with another brother. He was the first and only option for me.

I turn around and go back to the walk-in closet to empty my bags and put my clothes away. Now that I think about it, I’ve never seen Uri’s body bare—not since he was around seventeen. I know he’s not a prude, because he did some modeling before that—I still have all the magazines and catalogs featuring him. He suddenly stopped, though, and started stock trading. He has the body and the brains, and he’s so confident and unapologetic—my complete opposite. I really don’t know why he wastes his time protecting me.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m on the first floor in the kitchen making myself a green tea. I’m still in a daze because of what I found inside the closets and drawers upstairs—so many clothes and accessories they made my head spin—when he comes in wearing a pair of gray sweats and a long-sleeve, black cotton shirt.

I don’t ask him if he wants one. He hates tea, more of a black coffee guy. So I pour a fresh one and place it on the round table. The kitchen—just like the rest of the house—is fantastic. Lemon chiffon cabinets and drawers, and stainless steel counters, appliances, and stove. Unfortunately I don’t cook, and neither does Uri.

He sits on the chair next to mine and slides the coffee mug toward his chest.

“What’s this?” I ask him when he leaves a black bracelet near my tea cup.

“Rami made it.” He takes a sip from his mug before putting it down and grabbing my wrist. He moves my sweater sleeve up, brushing my skin with his fingers. Then he wraps the bracelet around my wrist. I feel the black band tighten and then a click.

“It monitors your vital signs. It notices sudden rises in your pulse rate, body temperature, and breathing.”

Joy, another controlling device to track my every move. It’s like a shackle, the feel of it on my skin reminds me how weak and defenseless my brothers think of me. They are really impossible at times.

“I don’t need it. I already have the tracker behind my ear and in my phone. Take it off.” I huff pulling at it, but the bracelet doesn’t move. “Where’s the clasp?” I don’t see it.

“There’s a key to open it and I have it. Only me.”

“And you have no intention of taking it off.”

“No. You need it.”

“No I don’t. But you see me as the weakest in need of extra monitoring,” I clip, still trying to take the contraption off.

“No, Sully is the weakest,” he calmly replies, stopping my hand by curling his around it and then placing our laced fingers on the table. The hold soothes me, but I don’t know if he’s patronizing me or using his sociopathic condition as a dumb card—wouldn’t be the first time. I don’t like either possibility.

“Give me the key!” I snap.

“No.”

I snatch the tea mug from the table and take a big sip, forgetting for a moment how hot it is.

“Mmm!” I moan, feeling the blazing beverage burn my tongue and inner mouth before it goes down my throat like searing lava.

His large hands are suddenly on my cheeks, forcing my mouth open.

“Your tongue is red,” he snarls, sending a murderous glare at my cup of tea before moving to the fridge to get a small bottle of water.

I stretch my hand out, craving the sensation of fresh water on my burned skin, but Uri doesn’t give it to me. He unscrews the lid and then drinks it himself. Before I even realize what is happening he bends down, pries my lips apart, and then feeds me the cold water from his mouth to mine. His lips are warm and soft against mine while the metal hoop around the lower one feels cool, cooler than the water filling my mouth. It drips down my chin and neck, but I don’t care. The light stinging pain mixed with his warm touch and wet mouth feel so damn perfect, my dick hardens.

He moves away, deep eyes scanning my face.

“More?” His raspy voice makes me swallow hard, and I can only nod while I look at his Adam’s apple bobbing as he takes another long sip.

He repeats the action two more times. His tongue strokes against mine, a heavy rub that makes my butthole clench eagerly around nothing. I feel an unbearable throbbing sensation in the pit of my stomach when he abruptly pulls away.

“You need to suck on some ice,” he states calmly.

Words elude me as I’m still processing what just happened.

Uri’s phone rings on the tabletop, making me jump with nerves. I see the name of one of his restaurants on the screen. As he picks up and talks composedly, I feel a sense of uneasiness crawling inside me. I’m about to pass out, while he cooly discusses lighting and tables.

I gesture to him that I’m going upstairs, and on unstable legs I get out, climb the stairs, and reach his bedroom. I close the door behind me and lean heavily against it.

What the hell was that? Uri is so…confusing. Every little word he tosses my way, the ways he stays close and does things for me…things like THIS! Why? Why did he do it? It means something, right? I’m crap at reading people’s behavior. I need an objective point of view, an expert in deciphering intentions, someone who knows Uri well, someone with a straightforward and unembellished approach. Lori. I need Lori.

Shit! I left my phone in the kitchen, and I have no strength left to face Uri again right now. Letting out a long sigh, I move toward my laptop. Echoes of lust and desire are twirling in my guts. My dick turns harder as I brush my fingers over my lips, recalling what it felt like to have Uri’s lips on mine once again.

I left my dildo at home, couldn’t pack it with Uri hovering over me. Should I get another one? I could send it to my office and then bring it here.

I look for the same website I bought my other one from. I open the page and see different models. It excites me, the memory of it inside me. I read somewhere that the first time could be painful if the bottom is not used to it. So I decided to give my body some prep while I was dating Trent—we never got that far, though. But I kept using it since it felt kind of good.

Should I buy a bigger one? And what’s that? My eyes are caught by a chain with two clamps at each end. Nipple clamps. My nipples respond instantly, turning as hard as rocks at the sight. And what’s a Dragon Skin Seven Piece Bondage Set? I read the small description: This fantasy-inspired ensemble invites you to explore the realm of power dynamics and intimate submission. Unveil an array of pleasures with this comprehensive set, featuring an eye mask, fully adjustable cuffs, hogtie restraints, and a whip for sensual discipline. Experience the art of submission.

My eyes focus on the whip and the restraints. And for a moment, I imagine myself diving into a dark world of thrilling, sensual submission. My whole body is shaken by a delicious shudder. It reminds me of that video I stumbled on a while ago. Two men enjoying BDSM sex. Leather cuffs, a blindfold, kneeling. I close my eyes as all the blood rushes down to my dick. My hand slowly moves toward it when I remember Uri is downstairs.

I quickly buy a slightly bigger dildo and close the laptop. Then I take a long shower, using thoughts of my ongoing research to deplete my erection. After donning an old t-shirt and a pair of soft pants, I slide under the sheets.

I fall asleep more quickly than I expected, and soon dream of someone spooning me. Wet lips caress my neck. Warm hands explore my chest and sides. A rough voice whispers deliciously filthy, possessive words in my ear. My aching cock remains untouched, but the grunts turn more savage as I feel a hard shaft rubbing between my cotton-clad ass cheeks.

When I wake up the next morning, I know I had a wet dream—my panties are a mess. There’s no sign of Uri, but the crumpled duvet on his side tells me he spent the night right next to me.

I can smell his scent on me.