Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
I rest my hand under his chin, caressing, noticing the fine pricks of unshaven hairs. “I wonder how these will feel against my balls when you’re choking on my cock.”
His face flushes. “Something you’ll never get to experience,” he snarls.
I can’t help but smile since I know better. Tonight’s gone exactly as I expected, and I’m certain the rest of this will go according to plan as well. Things rarely don’t work out for me. And when they don’t, that never ends well for whoever gets in my path.
“I’ll have someone take you back to Hayward, but before I go, perhaps a kiss?”
He rears his head back before launching a wad of spit that lands on my lips. He’s got the fire in his eyes, and the act stokes my fury, but I beat it down, reminding myself there’s time to pay him back for this. Time to train him and make him mine. Just not now. So I lap it up instead, enjoying the hint of tequila in his taste.
“I’ll give you time,” I assure him. “See you soon, Log.”
I wink before heading out the door, with him calling after me, “What do you mean? How much time? You just said you were gonna let me out? Killian? Killian!”
3
LOGAN
The next morning, I’m groggy as I come to.
Was last night a nightmare? No way did Killian Lorde send his guys to take me from the hot girl I was fucking, drag me to Rothguard, and threaten to hold me to a bullshit contract that has absolutely no legal foundation whatsoever. Yet, as my memory becomes clearer—those vivid sensations of him grabbing my balls, my shaft, tasting my lips—I know better. I knew Killian was bi, but I never had the impression he had his sights set on me. I don’t even know that he’s really attracted to me as much as wanting to be the one to own a Wilde.
Why did Dad ask me to sign that bullshit document to begin with?
Of course, I know the answer. This agreement has protected us, and that’s something I must consider, no matter how much I can’t stand the thought of being Killian Lorde’s husband…or I guess, as he puts it, his wife.
What the hell am I even thinking? This is bullshit. This won’t happen. I just need to talk to my brothers and sort out this mess.
I struggle to my feet, my body aching with injuries, a lightheaded sensation pulses through me, and I vaguely recall his guys returning with a sedative to knock me out, surely for their own safety. As I head into the en suite, I wonder how much of my grogginess is from the tequila and how much from that sedative.
I check myself in the mirror, inspect the bruising, particularly the one on my hip, where Killian caressed…stroking the tender flesh…my dick perking up… He didn’t seem to give a fuck whether I wanted him touching me like that, and yet, as he pointed out, I didn’t tell him not to. Maybe I just figured it was useless when he was going to do whatever the hell he wanted to my body anyway. Yes, that must be it. What was the sense in fighting? Although, given how much I resisted him about everything else, it’s hard to use that as a justification.
I shake that off and hop in the shower, rinsing off the sweat from the fuck I was in the middle of and from the fight with his fucking cronies. Jaime and Krychek. I’ll have to remember their names and make them pay for how they treated me.
I’ll also have to find a way to get Killian back because no one treats a Wilde like he did.
If only our situation wasn’t complicated enough already.
After my shower and brushing my teeth, I throw a towel around my waist and hurry to find Masters and Wrath. I’m hungry as hell, so on my way, I stop by the kitchen and grab a sub from the fridge.
I discover them in the pool with a crew of guys and girls, playing volleyball, totally oblivious to my absence last night.
“Well, this isn’t what I was expecting the morning after being abducted,” I say.
Wrath laughs. “Abducted? Oh yeah, Killian reached out to let us know he had a surprise birthday present for you. And we worked something out with Lowes and Hayes. Holy shit. Where’d you get those shiners? Wait. Killian didn’t do that to you, did he?”
“No, it was the girl. What the hell do you think?”
“Just a minute, guys,” Masters says, squeezing one of the guys’ asses, then swimming over to us.
“We need to talk,” I say through my teeth, and they glance at one another, knowing this is serious by my tone. It’s something I either inherited from our father or developed a decent imitation of because it’s very effective.