Series: Lords of Rathe Series by Meagan Brandy
Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“What the fuck?” I mutter, confused by the foreign design on the front.
“I said she went for a drink and I lost her.”
Oh, right, Ben was talking. “Lost and then found Cassandra?”
“Pretty much, yeah.” He laughs.
I nod, only half listening as I quickly swap to speaker and set my phone on the sink, tearing the shirt over my head and holding it out in front of me. “Hey, do you have a black Philipp Plein shirt?”
“Huh?” Ben shuffles in the background, and I set the shirt down. “Hell no. I can’t fuck with that expensive shit.”
Maybe I grabbed it from someone last night? Maybe it is Ben’s and he just can’t remember right now among his bullshit.
“So how about you, has your dry spell since Trevor officially ended?”
Has it?
I must pause too long as Ben’s laugh echoes around the bathroom, giving me away. I have no idea if I had my favorite kind of fun last night or not.
“Asshole.” I smile, shaking my head. “I’m taking a shower, then I have a shift with the shop. By the way, did you see Jus at all after we got there? I sort of forgot he was the one who invited us and did my own thing.”
Visions flash before my eyes. Images of Knight and how he urged me onto another guy’s lap so he could use his hands to drive me mad.
How he was so playful and almost cutesy and then a switch flipped and suddenly he was…fucking broody. Uncontrollable and pure destruction. He was a hungry wolf and I was his prey, the fucked-up kind who wanted to be caught.
He’s like a fucking Harry Houdini popping up and disappearing at random. Even in my damn mind.
“Nope, but tell him when you see him, I might kick his ass for leaving us to walk our asses home.”
“You walked home?” I gape.
“No, we called an Uber about a half mile down the road, but he doesn’t know that.”
“Love you, bye!” Shaking my head, I hang up with a smile on my face and turn on the water, feeling it to make sure it’s warm enough before I step inside. Fucking boys.
Did I fuck any boy last night, and yeah…plural, ’cause hello, Legend?
I reach between my legs, but I’m not sore, and surely I would be if Knight were between them, right? Everything about him screams animal.
Bet he even growls like one too.
There’s no doubt in my mind he would rival a god when he comes, that long corded neck and sharp angles of his jaw tensing and stretching. I can see it now, the way his face would draw tight, those full lips of his parting, if only so he could sink his teeth into his lower one.
At the thought, my fingers fly to my own bottom lip, and I wince at the tiny hint of broken skin there. That’s right. He bit me, and I think he sucked the spot he pierced, lapping at the blood.
And his eyes! They…changed. Didn’t they?
Fuck me, I need to lay off the sauce next time I see him so I can really get a feel for what he’s about. My senses have yet to steer me wrong in life, but they’ve been clouded nearly every time I’ve been around him.
Not that I’ll see him again for sure, and I most likely won’t if we did get down and dirty last night. He seems like the pussy testing type. You know, the kind of guy who can have any shape and size he wants, so he gives them all a good test drive until he finds the one who fits best.
I might pout if I find out we did fuck and I don’t even remember it, but then again, if a guy like that is capable of being forgotten after few rounds in the sheets, then I don’t want to remember it at all.
It will ruin the perfect perception I have of him, and that is that Knight, whatever his last name is, fucks like a demon. And I for one, am dying to take him by the horns.
I make quick work of getting ready, choosing a fresh pair of leggings and a long-sleeved black top that cuts off just below my bra line. Yes, it’s still warm in late September, but the shop is fucking freezing and I’d rather not walk around with hard nipples all day.
I put my hair in two French braids, and after a quick wing and some pink tinted gloss, I’m out the door.
I’ll never understand why people choose to spend time here. University. Even the most successful people aren’t measured by the degree they hold. It’s like a scam for our age group, with this false sense of accomplishment if you complete it. It’s a load of bull. I think it has more to do with parents than it does with us.