Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“Same,” he sneers. “Now get out, and let me know what brothel to send your clothes to.”
“I would say fuck you, Josh, but I don’t have a cock, and I know that’s what you’re into.” I flinch back when he raises a hand as if to strike me, just as a pounding sounds against the front door, freezing him in place like a cartoon character. He’s never struck me before, and he seems to catch himself now, lowering his hand before storming past me and thundering to the door ripping it open.
I can’t move. That bastard was going to hit me. This has been a lucky escape, who knows what he would have turned into once we were married.
My thighs clench and knees weaken when the pulsing begins inside me again, only this time it’s more intense, vibrating to the point that a moan slips past my lips. I collapse to my knees, compressing my legs together and pushing the hilt of my palm against my pussy to try to stop the pleasure. Or encourage it—I don’t even know, the sensations overwhelm me until little zaps of energy surge through me like my blood is a charge of electric bliss and a moan wants to rip free. I bite down on my tongue and hope I leave a puddle on the floor that Josh slips in. The Bastard.
FIFTEEN
Vance
We could have given her longer–should have, perhaps. But we’re greedy, selfish bastards, and as soon as she left the car, I missed her, hating the thought of her up here with this little twerp.
The door flies open, sending a gust of air swirling around us, rustling a newspaper left in the corridor.
“What?” he barks.
Rude little prick.
He turns when Poppy makes a delicious moan and drops to the floor on her knees … where I like her. Such a good girl.
When I flick my thumb over the remote control in my pocket, she gasps and pushes her hand between her legs. So needy, so hungry, so ours.
“We just came to pick up our Angel.” I slap a hand on Josh’s shoulder as Tristan barges past him, almost knocking him off his feet.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Josh raises his voice in alarm.
“I just told you,” I snarl. Fucking idiot doesn’t listen.
His hair swings back-and-forth across his forehead as his head swivels between me, Tristan and Poppy, watching us like a tennis match.
Tristan scoops our girl up, and I lower the vibrations, smirking at my Angel, fighting to catch her breath as she trembles, linking her arms around Tristan’s neck.
“Wait… Aren’t you, Tristan Carter?” Josh asks, narrowing his eyes. “Poppy’s boss?” He barks out a weird laugh, shaking his head. “She’s fucking her boss.”
Tristan ignores him, moving past him and down the corridor. When Josh steps forward, I press a palm against his chest, shoving him backwards against the door, where he lets out a little oomph in surprise.
“Someone had to fuck her.” I sneer in his face, towering over his short frame. “You sure as shit couldn’t handle the job.”
“She’ll come back to me with her tail between her legs. I’m all she’s ever known.”
I think he honestly believes that crap, that if he made her question herself, doubt her own power, her beauty, that he could keep her in the little box he created in his head for her, occasionally taking her out to parade her around his parents and have his cake behind closed doors. What a waste of both their lives. “You were the only man she’d known. Now that we’ve opened her eyes to new horizons, she’s never coming back here, to the bleak existence you tried to force her to live in.”
“Both of you?” he says on a whisper of disbelief, doubt flickering in his brown eyes. “She’s with both of you?”
I hitch up a shoulder. “She has an open mind and an insatiable hunger.”
“She’s a whore.” As soon as the insult leaves him my hand surges from his chest to his throat, the pulse there thundering like a jack rabbit beneath my tightening squeeze. Pathetic hands claw at mine in an attempt to release my hold. Not likely. Brown eyes bulge, mouth becoming a lovely blue hue, and just when his eyes flicker closed, I jerk my hand back, and he slumps to the floor.
“Watch your mouth,” I snap as I step over him to leave.
When I return to the town car we hired so we could circle the building without having to park, the chauffeur opens the back door for me. I fold my frame inside to find Poppy still cradled against Tristan, delicate little weeps rattling her body.
“Angel?” Every muscle in my body is coiled tight at the sight of her sadness. I want to go back upstairs and finish cutting off that fuckers air supply.