Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 164910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 825(@200wpm)___ 660(@250wpm)___ 550(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 825(@200wpm)___ 660(@250wpm)___ 550(@300wpm)
I go still for a moment, holding his eyes. Then I tilt my hips up barely enough for anyone else to notice.
But he does. My cock brushes his, through our jeans, and I don’t know if it’s just me who’s hard or both of us, but we both feel it.
Inching up to get in his face, I tell him, “No one’s going to give me your wife someday. She’s going to come willingly.”
His hot eyes drop to my mouth, and the pulse in his dick feels so good. I grit my teeth. Fuck.
I slam the heel of my palm under his chin, hearing him grunt as I try to escape, but he scrambles, pinning me down again.
He starts to smile—smug—but red and blue lights flash across his face.
His grin falls, and I pick up where he left off, beaming.
Told you.
Pushing him off, I stand up and so does he. Neither of us looks, but we can see the lights of the cop car to the left, on the other side of the trees, in the street.
My father makes sizable donations to the police department, and instead of them telling me not to stir up trouble, I simply send texts to Officer Theodore Grady, informing him of where I’m at and to come look for me if I don’t text back every twenty minutes.
As I did just before I entered this house tonight.
I don’t go anywhere without protection.
I sigh, throwing a nod to Liv, who I’d forgotten was even here. My jaw hurts, and I taste the blood in my mouth from my cut lip, but it was worth it. Dallas matches my steps, stalking me as I back away, and I don’t want to go home.
I kind of want to know what he’d do if the cops weren’t here. How far would this go?
But another thought floods me. What would he do if we were alone?
“Callum!” Milo shouts. “Let’s go!”
I jog up the steps, turning and backing into the dining room. Staring at Dallas, I rip open the last two buttons of my $385 shirt and toss it at his feet on the patio.
Maybe he’ll want to bring it back to me.
Stepping over it, he tries to close the distance, but I’m backing up into the house.
As he enters, I spin around and bolt with Milo, Vincent, and Cameron out of the house. A St. Carmen cop car sits in the street, Grady and Officer Chavez noticing us. I nod at them as Milo jumps up and snatches the Seminole flag off the Jaegers’ garage.
“Ah, shit,” Chavez hisses.
Dallas steps out of the house, descending the steps with Iron and Trace behind him.
Rain glides down my chest, my heart hammering as he zeroes in on me.
“Milo,” Officer Grady warns.
But I tug the flag away from my friend, seeing the corner of Dallas’s mouth curl, and for the first time in my life, I don’t wish I was anywhere else.
I nudge Milo and jerk my chin at the other two. “Split up.”
And we run, all of us bolting in different directions.
“Callum!” Grady shouts.
Digging in my heels, I pound through the dirt, skirting the Jaegers’ pool area and yard and sinking farther into the forest.
My friends are nowhere in sight, and I don’t have a plan, because—
Hands slam into my back, pushing me to the ground.
Flipping over, I scurry backward as Dallas Jaeger hovers over me.
I don’t have a plan, because I wanted him to catch me, I finish in my head.
It takes everything I have not to smile.
Descending on me, he grabs for the flag, but I wrap it around my arm, clutching it in my hand.
His shirt is gone, too, his body soaked and his fucking mouth inches from mine as he fights me.
“Give me the fucking flag,” he grits through his teeth.
“What will you do when I give it back?”
He keeps yanking at the fabric, their totem. “I’ll get back to my party.”
“Yeah?” I play. “So bite me.”
He digs his shoes against the soil, using them as leverage, but all I feel is his dick grinding between my legs.
“Punch me,” I tell him. “Strangle me, break an arm…”
But I falter, tilting my head up so I can look down and see us pressed together. His black pants brushing my jeans. His stomach touching mine.
He won’t do what it takes, because he loves this and doesn’t want it to stop.
Letting the flag go, he squeezes my neck, and I think he’s going to punch me, but instead, he thrusts.
I gasp, damn near grabbing his ass and keeping him there.
Oh, fuck.
I feel so fucking good.
He rises above me, arm steel-rod straight as he clutches my neck. Did he do that on purpose?
Growling, I knock him over and scramble for him, dirt caking under my fingernails as he tries to climb to his feet and I crash onto his back.