Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“We weren’t given much of a choice.” Facing me, he wound my strands around his free hand. “Small towns kind of pick your friends for you. No one else got what I was going through. Other boyfriends didn’t want the same relationship that I did. So now, it’s the five of us.” He kissed me. “We all end up where we’re supposed to be, Rainey. The trick is not to fight it.”
I hummed. “You don’t seem like the kind of guy that accepts the cards handed to him.”
“Ah, well.” A smirk split his face. “I’m probably eighteen percent that guy. But that eighteen percent put me in the right circumstances to claim my new toy. Sometimes you gotta be open to the gifts life hands you, baby. Stop reading, watch the hummingbird.”
“Some wisdom buried in there.”
Legend leaned in. His kiss skimmed my lips and caught the tender spot under my ear. “Reprieve is over, darling. You’ve got your own room.”
I gaped at him. “You can’t be serious. After everything, you’re sending me back to the doghouse?”
“We haven’t set an exact date for when your punishment is over, but I can tell you it’s not tonight.” He kissed me again. “We gave you a little treat before bedtime, don’t get greedy.”
“Legend, seriously, after being thoroughly fucked in both holes, you could at least give me one more night.”
“I could...” That smirk widened. “But I won’t. Get going. Close the door when you leave.”
I might’ve argued some more, but the guy wasn’t above picking me up and carrying me down himself. I credited his good mood that he at least sent me off with another kiss instead of the sore bottom I got most nights.
Standing in the silent hallway, I landed on Cairo’s door. Wonder if he’s in there tonight.
I knew he spent most of his nights away. When you slept by the front door, you notice people’s comings and goings. It crossed my mind a few times to ask him where he went, but I let it go each time. I had a feeling he’d tell me on his own one day.
Sighing, I settled in the doghouse.
Legend liked me in his bed. He liked waking up with me sandwiched between him and Roan and his arms around both of us. They were getting as tired of this as me. Soon, he’d give in. Or Cairo would to keep his mate close. Arsenio would let me in to share the mysteries behind his eyes. Jacques would to indulge his time with one of the few people who didn’t see him as someone to gawk and whisper about.
No matter what denials they voice, inside they said something else. Soon, I wouldn’t be the pet. I wouldn’t be another in a carousel of sex partners. I’d be their girlfriend, their love, their mate, their logical choice for the rest of their lives.
“I’ve seen what you’ll do when backed into a corner. If you lose all hope of getting her justice and exposing my father, I suspect you’ll kill him, Rain.”
How could I be without these men? They see me like no one ever has.
CRASH!
I jerked up, banging my head on the roof of the doghouse.
Sticking my neck out, my mind struggled for a moment to make sense of what I was seeing.
Glittery pieces covered the floor, coffee table, couch—
My lips parted, breath stolen from my lungs before they uttered the scream.
Climbing out, my bare feet trod on the glass, stabbing pinpricks of pain that faded from register. Closer the dancing flames brought me—gorgeous in their reflection, deadly in their hunger.
“Ahh!”
“Call 911!”
“Is someone in there?”
I passed out of the living room, picking up the object lying beside the couch on autopilot. Outside, the cooling autumn air raised goose bumps on my exposed flesh. It was something for the spectacle before me that coeds spilling onto Greek Row paid no mind to the woman standing around in a lace bra and panties.
The 1957 Chevrolet Corvette wheezed its death. Metal groaned. Tires blew out in a gust that spat the fire at those who dared get too close.
I didn’t see him first, I sensed him.
A presence spilling out of our home and standing the hairs on the back of my neck. Again, I did not need to see Arsenio Creed to know the expression on his face was terrible to behold.
Pristine leather. Polished surfaces. Not a scratch of chipped paint anywhere to be seen. Most afternoons, I sit at the window watching him in the driveway—shirtless and curls damp with sweat—while he worked on his car.
Arsenio stepped in front of me, veins stark and pulsing running up his back. The crowd parted for him, silence rippling through them like dominoes.
He spun, fixing on me, and I froze to the spot. Wild, blazing fire ten thousand times hotter than the inferno claiming the one thing he loved eroded away all color or emotion. I swear on my life, Arsenio’s eyes bled black.