Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 154691 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154691 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
“Hello?” I gasp, answering it from my watch.
“Please tell me you didn’t stop fucking in order to take this call?” Monroe growls.
He knows me better than that. I wouldn’t stop fucking for anything. “No, I’m running. Or was. What’s up?”
He lets out a frustrated sigh. “I’ve been tagged over a hundred times in the last two minutes on a video online.”
“Is it porn?” I ask excitedly. “Send it to me.” I could use something to jack off to while in the shower.
“It’s of Henley.”
My spine straightens, and I stop walking the driveway. My eyes landing on her white Ferrari California that Scout returned this morning. “Of her fucking?”
“No,” he hisses. “Stop thinking about sex.”
I’m trying, but I’m so worked up after last night with her. I’m doing anything I can think of other than storm into her room, force her to her knees, and make her cry for me while I fuck my doll’s mouth. “What was it?” I ask, taking in a deep breath, my breathing starting to even out.
“She posted a video to all platforms. A public apology.” He lets out a frustrated sigh. “I told her not to fucking say anything.”
“Well, that is what we wanted. For her to humiliate herself …”
“Not like this.” He sighs heavily. “She was so … convinced I had done it. I feel …”
“What?” I run a hand through my sweaty hair.
“Bad?”
I laugh. “That sounded like a question. Are you asking me how you should feel?”
“No,” he growls. “I just ... I’ve got to go.” He hangs up and I make my way into the house and upstairs and walk into her room to find her sitting on the white four-post bed. Her cell is on the floor next to it.
“You could knock,” she states, not even bothering to look up at me.
“And you could ask permission to wear my clothes,” I say, noticing that she’s wearing one of my shirts from Death Valley. It’s large on her small frame and hangs off one shoulder.
“Want it?” She stands, and her blue eyes meet mine as she reaches down and pulls it up over her head, tossing it at me. I don’t even bother to catch it as she stands topless in front of me. All she wears is a pair of cotton shorts. Even her black choker is missing. “Take it.”
My breathing picks up once again, and my cock hardens in my gray sweatpants. Her eyes drop to it before returning to mine. There’s a challenge in them. The same as last night. Daring me to do something, but I just stand here.
“That’s what I thought.” She sits back down on her bed, not even bothering to put a shirt on, and I watch the way her breasts bounce.
“You posted a video?” I ask, changing the subject as I bend down to pick up my shirt. She ignores me. “Playing the quiet game, doll? I don’t like being ignored.”
She looks up at me once again with a coldness in her glare. Well, someone has done a one-eighty. She was practically on her knees, thanking me for saving her life a couple of hours ago in my bedroom.
“Let’s stop playing this game, Law. The bullying is over, right? I messed up, and you all made me pay by being your fuck toy. But that’s over now. Go find someone else to be your little doll.”
That’s not how this works. Instead of telling her that, my eyes drop to the white box that sits at the end of her bed with Valentino written across it and a black bow. “What’s this for?”
I already know what it has to be for. The Monroe fundraiser tomorrow night. I heard my mother discussing it with her father. He didn’t want her to go. Thought she’d be too embarrassed to show her face. But that’s not who Henley is. Now that I know she didn’t freely run away, I have a newfound respect for her wanting to stay here.
My hands fist at her silence. Her dismissing me like I don’t fucking call these shots. She thinks the game is over. My little doll needs a reminder.
I walk around the bed to her side, wrap my hand around her neck, and shove her onto her back as I crawl on top and straddle her thin waist.
“Law.” She gasps, her hands gripping my arm that holds her hostage, and I squeeze, taking her air away. She raises her hips, trying to buck me off, but I pin her down easily. “Let me make myself very clear, little doll. You are still my toy, and I will play with you whenever I want.”
My free hand comes up and takes hold of her breast. She arches her back. Her hands fall from my arm and slide above her head, crossing at her wrists.