Heathens Read Online Alta Hensley

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, Forbidden Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
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“Your club?” the man asked. Realization of who Locke was must have sunk in. “I uh… sorry. I don’t want any issues. Your club, your rules.”

The man cast me one last look, his eyes filled with a flicker of new fear, before he turned and melted into the throng of people on the dance floor.

Locke wrapped his arm protectively around me, pulling me close to his side. He led me back to his VIP table in the furthest corner of the room, which was full of the co-owners of The Vault. My feet felt like lead as I stumbled along beside him. I could feel Fiora trailing behind us.

“Locke…” I tried to explain.

“I don’t want to hear it,” he said, his voice harsh. “Just sit down with us. With me.”

He was tense as he walked, the angry energy rolling off of him in black waves.

Locke slid into the leather booth, eyeing me with a frown as I followed him, feeling the stares of judgment from his friends. I didn’t know all of them well, but I knew them enough to hate the fact that they had seen me grinding against some stranger in a wolf mask. All of these men had been friends with my father. It was almost as if I had been caught by a room full of my… dad. A room full of watchful dads.

I wanted to crawl under the table and hide, but I forced myself to hold my head high, hoping to appear strong despite my complete humiliation.

No one spoke, but the silence felt awkward. And invasive. I could feel their eyes boring into me, weighing me down.

Fiora scooted in next to me and whispered in my ear, “There could be worse places we are forced to sit in our ‘time out.’” I saw the way she scanned her eyes across the table of men.

Yes, they were all handsome in their own way. All of them were packed with muscle. All of them were cut from the same cloth as Locke.

All of them were scary.

She was right; it could be worse.

Except I still had to face Locke.

My blood turned to ice as I tried to figure out what I was going to say. I had no excuse. He was right. I’d betrayed his trust. I had known The Vault was off limits.

But when I turned to find his gaze, his eyes were burning into me, and I couldn’t think of a single thing to say that would make things better.

Chapter 10

Locke

That boy had been lucky I hadn’t cut off every single one of his fingers for daring to touch Storee the way he had. I had never felt such a possessive rage in my life.

Homicidal.

And Storee—I had specifically told her to never attend The Vault, and here she was.

My heart had stuttered.

I thought of how beautiful she had been, dancing in that simple black dress, her hair curling around her high neck. The butterfly mask on her face doing little to conceal her beauty.

I thought of the way her eyes had flashed when she had seen me, the way she had been outrageously flirting with a complete stranger, in clear defiance of my instructions.

And I thought of the way that cock-less boy had whispered in Storee’s ear. The way he had run his fingers over her body. The way he had stood so close to her, and I felt such deadly rage it scared me.

I would have killed him.

I would have killed him right there. If he hadn’t been a guest, I would have. His lifeless, bloody body with the wolf mask would have littered my club’s floor if he had even dared push me another second.

An icy shiver ran through my body.

I had wanted to kill for her.

“Locke,” she said, leaning into me so I could hear her over the loud music of the club. “I don’t have to stay.”

“You’re here now,” I said, not wanting to have her leave my side. “I’m not going to allow you and Fiora to leave without my escort. There are too many visitors from the mainland here tonight. It’s not safe. And since I don’t feel it appropriate for me to leave yet, you are here with me until I do. Next to me at all times.”

Braken was the first of my friends to speak. “Well, let’s get these ladies a drink.” He reached for the bottle of chilled champagne in the center of the table and poured Storee and Fiora a glass.

Fiora happily took hers and drank, but Storee seemed uncertain, hesitant.

I wasn’t in the mood to celebrate, but I also didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable next to me either. So I pushed the glass to her and ordered, “Drink.”

I noticed Fiora giggle and lean into Storee’s ear. Though she was trying to be discreet, I could hear her say, “Do you call him Daddy? Yes, Daddy. Whatever you say, Daddy. How can I please you, Daddy?”


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