Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
“What is this? Why…?” Joey trails off as the sliver of light hits me. “You brought a fucking girl into my bedroom? Is this what you assholes have been sneaking off to do all night? Fuck some random-ass girl in my bed. That’s fucking disgusting, Marcus. This is the bed I sleep in with my fiancée. What were you thinking?”
“Well, I was thinking you were busy with the stripper and the rest of us deserved to have a little fun, too.”
I expect Marcus to entice him the way he has his other brothers, but instead of selling him on me and bringing him over to touch and fuck me, they remain by the door.
“Well, you’ve gotta get her out of here,” Joey says irritably. “I’ll have to burn these sheets now.”
“You don’t want a go at her?”
“No, I don’t want a fucking go at her.”
Guilt wraps around my heart, but the mantle doesn’t hang there for very long.
“Wore yourself out with the stripper, huh?”
“Can you just pay her so she can go? The stripper was one thing, but Jess and I sleep in this bed.”
“Ah,” Marcus says, leading him. “But you don’t cuddle on that couch watching movies? You didn’t seem to have a problem fucking the stripper on that, or over the armchair where Jess drinks her morning coffee, in the living room where you also spend time with your fiancée. Just the bedroom is sacred, huh?”
“Fuck you, Marcus.”
“Doesn’t sound like you can fuck anyone right now,” his brother says lightly. “Guess you blew your whole load with the stripper, huh?”
“Just get her out of here.”
My heart pounds furiously.
Why isn’t Joey saying anything about all that stuff he said about the stripper? That couldn’t possibly be true, right?
Marcus sighs. “I have a confession to make, Joey.”
“I’m not interested. I’m tired, I need a shower, I need to get some sleep. Now I need to remake the fucking bed before I can do any of that. Can you please just save this shit—”
“When you sent me back here to grab a condom out of your bedside table, your bed wasn’t empty. But it wasn’t because I hired an escort to take care of us while the stripper entertained you like I told the guys.”
Joey is quiet for a second. “What are you talking about?”
I flinch as Marcus hits the light switch so Joey can see me sprawled on the bed in my soiled bachelorette dress. I gasp, my eyes widening in horror, but that’s nothing compared to the horror etched across Joey’s face.
He’s so shocked, his skin loses several shades of color. His eyes dart from me to Marcus in confusion. It’s clear he isn’t sure what happened here, and he’s struggling to jump to the obvious conclusion.
His gaze snaps back to me. He takes in the ball gag in my mouth, the way I’m cuffed to our bed. Marcus never gave my panties back and the dress is riding up so he can even see my pussy from where he’s standing.
“Marcus, what did you do?” he asks, horror weakening his every word.
“I tied up your pretty little fiancée and let the whole family use her. Every fucking one of them. Dad had her mouth. Jared did, too. We all had her pussy. I had it a few times.”
Joey’s face drains completely of color. “No. No.” He turns to me then, desperation replacing his shock. “Say it isn’t true, Jess.”
Shame wells up inside me and tears stream down my face.
“No, baby. Say it isn’t true.”
I can’t say anything with this ball gag in my mouth. He must realize that because he rushes over to unbuckle it, but the whole time his shaky fingers work the buckle and fumble to free my mouth of the gag, his gaze rakes over me, searching for evidence of what Marcus claims happened here.
And there’s evidence everywhere.
Smeared on my tits, soiling my dress, making my lips swollen, leaking from between my legs and staining his previously perfect sheets.
“No,” he whispers in horror, not wanting to believe what he’s seeing. “He fucking ruined you.”
My heart sinks, then cracks in half.
“I didn’t fucking ruin her,” Marcus snaps.
“You raped her,” Joey says, turning on his heel to hurl the accusation at his brother. “She never would have agreed to this. You mindfucked her somehow. You made her do this. You sick son of a bitch. You tied her up and tricked every fucking man in our family…” Evidently lacking the words to properly express his fury, he rushes Marcus, ramming him against the wall and throwing a clumsy right hook.
Marcus isn’t drunk, and he’s also bigger and stronger than Joey, so he easily deflects the blow, throws his brother off him, and moves out of the way.
“This is really your fault,” Marcus states. “If you wouldn’t have sent me back here to get you a condom so you could fuck your hooker, I never would have found her.”