The Story of Danny Rose (Hillcroft Group #1) Read Online Cara Dee

Categories Genre: BDSM, Dragons, Erotic, M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: Hillcroft Group Series by Cara Dee
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Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
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I groaned internally, recalling what Arden had said. That Danny must’ve misunderstood something.

I sighed and ran a hand over my head.

“Can we let this go now?” Danny returned to the counter with the skillet. I just watched him. He pulled four plates from the cabinet. Two slices of bread on each, two eggs, and a few thick strips of bacon.

Last but not least, four tin mugs filled with coffee.

I dodged his question and asked one of my own. “Did you see the twins on your way back?”

He nodded curtly. “They’d just reached the dirt road when I pulled up.”

“Am I gonna be impressed by their appearance?”

“Probably, but they must’ve committed a minor felony to find a ball cap from the University of Michigan in the middle of the night.”

I let out a chuckle. Excellent. Those felonies were all right.

So they were in “Venezuela” as students. Good route for two boys their age.

Danny held two plates and faced me with a blank expression. “You didn’t answer me before.”

Astute.

I smirked faintly and took a measured step toward him. I liked that little flicker of apprehension in his eyes when I was so close to him. Correction—I loved it. Just a few inches closer, and I could cup his jaw and stand a little too close.

He went rigid as I brushed the pad of my thumb across his bottom lip.

What the hell are you doing, man?

Fuck it. I was weak.

He swallowed hard, a sight that pushed a wall of thick tension through me.

“Thank you for your honesty, little one,” I murmured.

A breath gusted out of him, and his pupils dilated.

Ease the fuck off.

It was my turn to swallow, and then I forced myself to back away. I took one of the plates and realized I was royally screwed.

I was pushing forward in the one area I should be pulling back, and I couldn’t even care. I grabbed my coffee and headed outside.

My God, I wanted to fuck him stupid.

See him writhe in pleasure and pain underneath me as I pumped my cock in and out of his ass.

Maybe while he held his little stuffie.

Shake it off.

I took a steadying breath, my heart racing a little too fast.

I’d just done that. I’d just crossed a line with him.

I exhaled and slumped down in my chair.

Bloody fucking idiot.

Danny’s estimate on the twins’ return was pretty spot-on. He’d poured their coffee right on time.

He shuffled out of the cabin, and the twins trailed up the steps. Quiet good mornings were exchanged behind my back while I peeled the shell off my eggs.

“Have a seat, boys,” I said, clearing my throat. “Danny cooked up a feast.”

“Coffee,” one of the twins groaned.

They hadn’t slept, had they?

The brothers appeared with their plates and coffee, and they slumped down in the same spots they’d had dinner last night.

I crammed a perfectly soft-boiled egg into my mouth and eyed the twins with a pinch of amusement. And wonder. They’d been busy.

“You’re just gonna get the shell everywhere.” Reese—that had to be Reese. He took the plate from River and started peeling his eggs. He was the caregiver when it came to River’s eating habits. River could get by on coffee and ramen, something his brother wasn’t a fan of.

Reese was the one with the Michigan ball cap, then.

The matching cargo pants had belonged to them already, but the short-sleeved plaid button-downs had come from somewhere else. One in blues and greens, one in reds and blues.

“Welcome to Venezuela,” I said with a smile. Danny took the last chair, same as last night as well.

“Yeah, thanks.” Reese yawned. “Did you shower?”

“Where would I do that?” I took a sip of my coffee—and fuck me if that wasn’t perfect too. “I think I’ll be asking the questions now. How was your night?”

He squinted at me. “Are we in character?”

I shook my head. “No need for dramatics. I just wanna do a background check. We’ll start with your names.”

Over the next few minutes, they did excellent with the basic stuff. They were students at U of M and currently part of a research study in Venezuela. They didn’t hide the fact that they’d spent the night in the bush. Their pants were dirty, fingernails too, some minor scratches… Hell, that might actually be makeup. It was subtle. Reddish brown, the faintest of streaks, and irritated dots looking remarkably close to mosquito bites.

I asked who their professor was. Margaret Hawthorne. What they were studying. Biodiversity in endemic species of fish. Where they were staying. Dormitory just off campus of the Central University of Venezuela in Caracas. How old they were, what year they were in, what they hoped to accomplish with their degrees, how long they’d been in Venezuela for… They did well.

Obviously, if this had been real, they would’ve needed tons more to back up their lies. Passport stamps, fake identifications, fake phone numbers to call for confirmation at the university or ecology department, but they’d done everything they could’ve done for this particular assignment.


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