This week I wanted to try something different! I would like to start including some free short stories in a section of this blog! I thought it might be fun to try out. As I work to grow this platform, I have a few things in the works that I will be rolling out this year!

So without further ado, let’s get to the fun part!

One

Five guards. Three patrolling, two at the door. Fifteen minutes. One thousand feet. Third door on the right. I repeat the sequence over and over again in my head as I load my gun. The brick wall digs into my back and a chill rushes through me. I should have asked Damien to come with me. He’s going to fucking kill me when he realizes what I’ve done. The sleeping pill I dropped into his drink at dinner should keep him down for the night, but that won’t matter if I get caught.

It took me exactly forty days, ten hours, twenty-three minutes, and one night of really bad sex to find out where they’re keeping Wesley. The guard that I slept with was so drunk I doubt he would have even remembered telling me everything I wanted to know while flopping around on top of me like a bird with a broken wing. The one good piece of advice my mother ever gave me was that a man will give you anything you want if you stroke his ego in bed. That bastard sang for me like a church choir on Sunday when I batted my eyelashes and told him what a big, strong guard he was. Dumbass. I’m sure I did his boss a favor by killing him. No one needs a man so easily manipulated in their ranks. 

Five guards. Three patrolling, two at the door. Fifteen minutes. One thousand feet. Third door on the right. 

I take a deep breath, closing my eyes for only a moment and leaning my head back against the warm brick. Fifteen minutes. I screw the silencer onto the barrel of my gun. Breathe in. Breathe out. The bell in the town center sounds midnight, the large metal instrument ringing out across the thick blanket of night. Fifteen minutes. One thousand feet. Third door. One last strike of the bell signals the start of my own timer. I’m coming for you, baby. My eyes pop open and calm washes over me with my next exhale. I pull the black scarf up over my nose, leaving only my eyes visible. 

I peel away from the wall, becoming one with the shadows as I slink around the corner and press my body into a small alcove. I see the first patrolling guard. He holds his rifle across his chest, walking casually along the corridor. His features are pulled into a picture of boredom and his gaze is complacent. He has walked this route too many times without issue. He’s lost his sharpness. I need to work fast. Fifteen minutes. I wait a few seconds until he steps in front of my hiding spot. Lifting my gun, one shot to the head and he goes down. I jump out in time to catch him before he hits the floor. The fucker is heavy and I’m only able to slow his dissent, his body making a soft thud as it hits the floor. I bite down on my lip to hold in my grunt. Fourteen minutes.

I walk to the end of the hall and peek around the next corner. The next guard’s back is to me as he walks with the same glacier pace. I tuck my gun into its holster and unsheath the blade strapped to my forearm. Twelve steps. I grip the hair on the back of his head and shove the knife into the base of his skull. He doesn’t have a chance to make a sound. Instead, he goes down before he knows he’s taking his last breath. Three guards. Twelve minutes. The next patrolling guard is past the door I’m heading for. 

My heart beats wildly in my chest. Every step I take that brings me closer to Wesley, the more anxious I become. Something’s wrong. I shake my head against the thought. I have planned this down to the drop of each guard’s body. My feet carry me soundlessly down the halls. My gun burns in my hands and an itch starts up on the back of my neck. It’s too easy. I grit my teeth. Ten minutes. I’m at the last corner. One peek tells me there are indeed two guards at the door to his cell. I almost let out a scoff. Only five guards for the Wesley Bishop? It’s insulting. 

Two muffled pops in rapid succession take down the idiots on either side of the door. Their bodies fall lifelessly, making a little more noise than I’m comfortable with. I should have been more tactful. In a few minutes, it won’t matter though. I’ll get Wesley out and we will be out of the building before shift change. Seven minutes. My pulse picks up as I quickly approach the door. It’s old. I’m surprised that they are keeping him in such a rundown location. Insult to injury. I didn’t account for what condition he might be in. Something is really not right. I try twisting the handle and the door swings open. This should have been locked. Anxious energy pulls me forward across the threshold. The room is dark and I keep my gun angled up, scanning. Too easy indeed. A soft click sounds behind me and the press of a barrel to the back of my head halts my breath in my lungs. 

“Little Bo-Peep has lost her sheep,” a deep voice says. The heavy warmth of a man’s body crowds against my back, his breath hot on the side of my head, and a thick palm slips around my throat. “And she doesn’t know where to find them.”

Three more clicks ring out across the room and a humorless laugh rises up my throat. Three guards step out of the shadows of the room, guns sighted in on me. One on my leg, one on my chest, and one between the eyes. Let us not forget the one currently pressed to the back of my head. Another laugh bubbles out of me, more disturbed than the previous one. I try to calculate in my head how hard it would be to take out at least the fucker with his hand around my neck. I’d be dead before I got a chance to try. Damien is going to be so pissed. 

Slowly I hold up my hands, gun hanging from a single finger. 

“What a clever little setup. Who can I congratulate on their fine plotting skills?” I sneer as one of the guards in front of me rushes forward to take my gun. He can’t be older than sixteen. His wide, round eyes betray his fear. With a feral smile, I wink at him. I want to laugh as he visibly pales, ripping my gun from me quickly and stepping away out of arms reach.

“Keep your mouth shut and cooperate,” the guard at my back says smoothly. He removes his hand from my neck to pull down the scarf still wrapped around my face. 

“Not a chance in hell,” I shoot back. He sighs dramatically and only the cold metal barrel pushed to the back of my head keeps me from crashing my skull into his face. 

“Let’s just speed this along then.” 

The sharp jab into the side of my neck causes a growl to rumble out of my chest, but it’s cut short when blackness creeps into my vision and I sway sideways. I shake my head, trying to clear the haze taking over me. 

“Fucking hell. He wasn’t kidding. Hit her again.” 

“That dose could take down a man twice her size. Give it a second to work.” 

“She’s not just some random bitch off the street, Hayes. Hit her again.”

I hear their voices, but I’m too busy focusing on my breathing and remaining upright. This isn’t the first time I’ve been stuck with tranquilizers. Microdosing with breakfast has been part of my morning routine since I was twelve. Fucking idiots.

The second sting hits the other side of my neck and this time I am helpless to stop the paralysis in my limbs. My legs go out and I barely register the impact as my body connects with the floor. Four pairs of boots approach me and I blink slowly as my vision grows darker. A ringing starts up in my ears but I can still make out their muffled voices.

“I don’t understand what’s so special.” A boot nudges at my leg.

“She can still hear you, man.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” A figure bends down into my line of sight. He’s the man that had his gun trained on my chest. His dark eyes roll down my frame, and his lip curls slightly with disgust. I do my best to glare at him when his meaty fingers brush a strand of hair back from my cheek. “Just another dumb cunt if you ask me. Maybe I should take her for a spin. See what all the fuss is about.” 

Confusion swirls in my mind but is quickly replaced by roiling fury when he runs a fingertip down the side of my neck and past my collarbone. I mentally prepare myself for him to grab a handful of my boob but in a blur, another body comes from the side and a black shiny boot connects with the man’s face. A couple of low laughs sound out around me as the perv scrambles to his feet.

“What the fuck was that for?” he bellows. 

“Hands off, Teague,” the other man says calmly. Ah. Mr. Bo-Peep. 

The voices grow more and more distant and my eyelids droop. My body grows heavier and I feel like I’m sinking into the floor. The drugs pull me down into the void as if the devil himself has finally come to claim me. It was all a setup. Wesley isn’t here. How could I be so stupid? So predictable? They knew I would come for him. I played right into their hands. A lesser someone might just give up. My sluggish brain turns my predicament over and over until a plan starts to form. I’m going to have to fight my way out of here and find Wesley. It’ll have to wait until I wake up. I don’t know what they’re going to do with me, but I doubt I’ll be out as long as they hope. I may get the element of surprise on my side once again. 

Sleep finally pulls me under. Damien really is going to be pissed. 

 

Two

There are hands groping me. No. Not groping. Searching. Consciousness creeps in on me but I will my body to remain completely still. I keep my eyes closed and breathe evenly as large hands pat down my frame with unnerving gentleness looking for weapons. I really hope that’s not the one they call Teague. 

My body is rocking. We’re in a car. They’ve tied my hands behind my back and the pressure on my ankles suggests that my legs are also bound. My mouth feels as though it’s been stuffed with cotton and the pounding in my head pairs terribly with the ringing in my ears. I force slow breaths through my nose. The ringing begins to subside and I want to frown at the soft humming coming from the man who’s searching me. This is just fucking weird. 

I listen for any indication of where we might be. It doesn’t sound like we’re in town anymore. Or it’s possible that it’s still night and there just isn’t as much traffic. My back lays at an awkward angle against the leather seats and my body screams for me to move, but I remain still. The hands leave me and a sigh sounds from the man. I think it might be Mr. Bo-Peep. From what I gather, he’s the ring leader in this group of idiots or at the very least, higher on the food chain than the others. 

Over the next few minutes, I piece together every detail that I can. These men have to be on Black Skull payroll. The warehouse I was told Wesley was being held in was one of theirs. None of them looked familiar so they can’t be far up in the command chain, not that I’ve met many of the higher-ups. It had to be a setup, but I can’t understand the motive or how they allowed me to kill so many of them before I was caught. It doesn’t make sense. Unless they were just sacrificial lambs laid out to draw me in. That’s demented enough for Black Skull. That would mean the guard I slept with was also planted. 

The car slowly rolls to a stop, the brakes letting out a quiet whine. The ignition is switched off and I remain still as doors open and then I’m lifted out of the seat by strong arms. By the sound of the humming, Mr. Bo-Peep has me. I let my body remain heavy and sag into his hold as boots crunch across gravel. Cool air brushes across my face and the lack of light shining through my closed eyelids suggests it’s still dark out. I could try to fight now—break free of his hold, get the jump on the other three, and take their car. But there’s a chance that wherever they have brought me is also where they’re holding Wesley. If there’s even a chance he’s here, I need to wait and we can break out together. 

“Tommy, run ahead and tell him we’re here. He probably already knows, but do it anyway,” the man holding me commands. 

“Yes, sir.” The guy—Tommy—breaks off from the group, his pace increasing. 

Mr. Bo-Peep adjusts me in his arms with a light grunt and continues walking. 

“I don’t understand why we had to bring her here.” I think that’s the one that they call Teague. 

“Because he told us to. And you do what you’re fucking told unless you want to end up like Shawn and Kirk,” says the fourth man in this merry band of brothers. 

“They had it coming,” mumbles Mr. Bo-Peep. 

“I’m just saying the warehouse is nice enough for some D’Angelo scum. Just because she’s got a cunt doesn’t make her special.”

My jaw clenches and I feel Mr. Bo-Peep’s steps falter and his fingers twitch against my body where he holds me. It’s quick and barely there and probably not noticeable to his companions, but I noticed. He knows I can hear them. Interesting. 

“Stop talking, Teague.” His voice rumbles through my body as he shifts me again. 

A few short minutes later I’m being placed into a cool metal chair, my body propped up. 

“Tie her up,” Mr. Bo-Peep says after placing me down. 

A rougher set of hands land on me and I know without a shadow of a doubt that this is Teague. I know I’m supposed to be playing “incapacitated prisoner,” but I just can’t help it. My eyes pop open and I have only a second to savor the surprise in his dark eyes before I slam my forehead into his nose. A sick crunch sounds as he falls back and blood pours from his now broken nose. The pounding in my head is but a small price to pay for the satisfaction I receive from his howling anger. He scrambles to his feet, seething through blood-stained teeth. 

“You stupid bitch! Someone should show you some fucking manners.” 

With my hands bound behind my back, I’m unable to block the fist that slams into my face. I fall from the chair and onto the carpeted floor. Lights dance in my vision and I taste blood as I try to regain my bearings. I’m going to enjoy killing him. 

I pry my eyes open in time to see Teague being slammed against the wall, a broad, tattooed hand wrapping around his throat. 

“You got a death wish, Teague?” Tattoo hands is Mr. Bo-Peep. His smooth and deathly calm voice commands attention in the little room they have brought me to. 

“Bitch had it c—” His voice is cut off when Mr. Bo-Peep squeezes his throat.

“Try again. You got a death wish?” 

Dark angry eyes dart to me and then back, his face turning a bright red. I can’t tell if it’s just anger or maybe a little embarrassment as well before he finally answers with a single shake of his head. 

“Get out. If I were you, I’d make myself scarce.” Mr. Bo-Peep releases Teague abruptly and shoves him toward the door. 

“I’ve got this handled, Hayes. You can go too.” 

The last man in the room doesn’t waste a second exiting the room behind Teague. From my place on the floor, I watch Mr. Bo-Peep’s back. He lets out a rough exhale, placing his hands on his hips. His head drops for a second and I don’t make a sound as I watch him. He’s big. Under his jacket, I can make out broad shoulders and a trim waist. His dark red hair is styled into neat curls on top of his head. When he finally turns toward me, I get a good look at his face. He looks familiar but I can’t place where I’ve seen him. Striking blue eyes stay fixed on me as he approaches with heavy steps. I quickly pull myself up off the floor before he reaches me, pushing myself up into a sitting position. 

“You okay?” he asks, his voice deep. 

I don’t answer. Instead, I let the blood pool in my mouth before spitting it directly into his face. He closes his eyes as the deep red splatters across his skin and then lets out an annoyed sigh. 

“It’s gonna be like that is it?” He pulls a cloth out of his pocket and wipes his face, effectively smearing the crimson. Pinning me with an intense stare, he doesn’t move to retaliate. 

“Where’s Wesley? I want to see him,” I say, straightening my shoulders. 

His eyebrows nearly meet his hairline and then he smirks, looking away from me. I follow his gaze and see the small lens in the corner, nestled to the ceiling. A camera. Unsurprising.

“Bad girls don’t get what they want,” he muses, continuing to look at the camera for a few seconds before looking back at me. It doesn’t escape my notice that he didn’t directly deny or confirm that Wesley is here somewhere.

“Fuck you,” I snarl. 

“That’s not allowed. I’m flattered though.” 

Anger boils up in me and I want to headbutt him as well, but I have a feeling that if I tried, I’d be much worse off than I was with Teague. 

“Let’s get your highness onto her throne, shall we?” 

I let out a surprised gasp as he grabs me by the shoulders and hauls me up into the metal chair. He walks around to my back and pulls my bound hands through the bars on the back of the chair, securing my bonds to the cool metal. The angle tugs my shoulders into an uncomfortable position but it isn’t painful. A thoughtful hum sounds from behind me and then the air shifts as he moves to stand in front of me again. He crouches down by my feet and grabs my bound ankles. 

“If you kick me, there will be consequences,” he says, voice void of real emotion as he looks up at me briefly. 

I school my face into one of innocence, lifting my eyebrows slightly as if I’m offended that he would ever suggest such a thing. 

“I wouldn’t ever dream of it, Mr. Bo-Peep,” I say softly. 

He huffs out a gentle chuckle as he unties my feet, quickly resecuring each one to the legs of the chair. 

“Seth,” he mutters. 

“What was that?” 

“My name.” He stands and takes two steps back, looking down at me. “My name is Seth.”

“I don’t care,” I bite out. “Where’s Wesley?”

“Not in here,” he shrugs and a growl escapes my throat, causing him to smile at me. 

“Are you in charge here, Seth?” 

He strokes his chin, pursing his lips thoughtfully for a moment and I ache to punch him in the face. 

“In this room right now? Yeah. I’d say I’m in charge. Of the entire building? Not so much, but close enough.” His voice is distant as if he’s speaking more to himself than to me.

“What’s that supposed to—” My words are cut off when his phone starts ringing in his pocket. 

He holds up a finger to me in a just one second gesture that boils my blood. What are these assholes playing at? 

He rolls his eyes at whoever is calling before swiping a tattooed finger across the screen and bringing it to his ear. 

“What?” he snaps. 

I raise my brows at him as he rolls his eyes again, listening to the person on the other end of the call.

“You’re no fun.” He pauses. Looking at the camera in the corner again, he lets out a suffering sigh. “Yeah, okay.” 

He ends the call and shoves the phone back into his pocket. Putting his hands on his hips, he looks at me with a deep frown. My eyes widen in question as we stare at each other, waiting for something to happen. Seriously, this is the strangest hostage situation I have ever been in. 

“Boss says it’s time for lights out,” he says finally. 

Apprehension shoots through my system at that. Is this dude about to beat me unconscious? That sounds like it would suck. 

“Get on with it then,” I grit out. 

“Are you tired of me, B?” 

My blood runs cold and I rear back at the familiarity, eyes going wide. He only smirks in response. 

“That’s okay. I’m a little tired of you too. So, I guess I’ll be on my way. Don’t do anything stupid. He’s not going to let you leave so … sleep or something.”

“That’s it?” I blurt out as he turns on his heel and walks to the door.

“Were you expecting something else? Do you need me to sing you a lullaby?” he asks with faux seriousness, looking back at me with his hand on the doorknob. 

“What? No. I just …” I shake my head, looking away and trying to decide if the drugs and the punch to the face have caused me some kind of brain damage. That makes more sense than what’s happening right now. No one gets set up and kidnapped by Black Skull only to be tied up in a room with carpeted floors and told to go to sleep without receiving the beating of a lifetime. 

“Then it’s settled. Go to sleep.” He pulls the door open and exits without another word. The soft click of the door locking from the outside reverberates through the room. 

What the actual fuck? 

Three

I didn’t sleep. For one thing, it’s really hard to sleep when you’re tied to a metal chair, locked in a room, and being watched by someone on Black Skull payroll from a sketchy camera in the corner. It’s fucking unnerving not to mention uncomfortable. I did take inventory, deciding that every one of my weapons had been found, even my forearm dagger. I spent a good bit of time trying to figure out how these guys are two steps ahead of me at each turn. This is a rather thorough setup. None of it makes sense. 

After thinking through every motivation I could, I moved on to escape plans. I doubt that I could just bust out of here weaponless. No. I’ll have to get the lay of the land first—play the docile captive until I can figure out where we are and how many men I’m going to have to tear through on the way out. Though, with all the knowledge they seem to have on me, I doubt they would believe me to be docile in any situation, least of all in a hostage situation. In any case, the most pressing item on my agenda is finding out where they are keeping Wesley. When I get my hands on him, he has a lot of explaining to do. For starters, how did they manage to get the jump on him in the first place? I know now that they obviously took him to lure me. Jokes on them if they think that taking me will help them get to my father. That bastard disowned me a long time ago. I’m a D’Angelo in name only now and that has done nothing except make me a fuck ton of enemies.

“Morning, precious.” Case in point. Seth greets me as he strolls into the room carrying a plate with scrambled eggs and toast on it. 

“Where’s Wesley?” I ask in reply, narrowing my eyes at his cool expression.

“Still not in here,” he answers so casually that I could scream.

“You’re fucking hilarious,” I deadpan, faking calm.

“I’d say that you’re the funny one thinking that you have any leverage. Making demands here isn’t going to do anything except draw attention to your mouth.” The tip of his tongue darts out and wets his bottom lip as his dark blue gaze drops to my mouth.

“Take a closer look, why don’t you? Fair warning: I bite,” I reply flatly. 

“I’m sure you do.” He narrows his eyes, still staring at my mouth. “I’m sure I’ll find out all about that later. Right now though, eat.” He holds the plate out to me and I blink slowly a couple of times, choosing to ignore that very strange comment. 

“Oh, right. You can’t. Suppose I’ll have to feed you then.” His sarcastic tone annoys me to the core and I barely hold in my retort. 

He crouches down in front of me and picks up a piece of toast, holding it up to my mouth. I look at his tattooed fingers for a beat before looking at his face with a smirk. Of course, he knows exactly what I’m thinking. 

 “If you bite me, you’ll get blood on the bread. I for one don’t mind the taste of a little iron in the morning, but I don’t know that it will pair so well with the grape jelly.”

I frown incredulously at his comment. If it weren’t for the headache I have from being drugged and punched yesterday, I would think that I’m being punked. Someone—probably the person behind the camera in the corner—is fucking with me. Maybe I have a concussion or something. That could be a likely scenario. 

“I have to piss,” I say, pulling my head away from the slice of toast in Seth’s hand. 

He lets out a sigh that I have come to be very familiar with in the last twelve hours. Dropping the toast back to the plate, he sets it down at my feet before going to work untying my bonds. He pauses with his hand on my ankle, looking up at me through his lashes. I raise an eyebrow in question.

“Remember. Consequences.” His thumb strokes the side of my boot before he moves to the other leg, untying it swiftly with long tattooed fingers. 

It would be so very easy to kick out and take him down. A reckless part of me wants to know what punishments doled out by this man might be like, but then guilt swamps me. I’m here to jailbreak Wesley. Not fraternize with the enemy. Knowing that doesn’t stop the rush crashing through my system when Seth stands in front of me, his tall, wide frame looming over me as I look up at him.

He moves around me and unties my bound wrists from the back of the chair. 

“I’m going to untie your wrists. Don’t do anything stupid, precious.” His hot breath coasts over my cheek and I think that I feel his lips brush the shell of my ear. A rough exhale whooshes out of me and a shiver coasts down my spine. 

In seconds, the pressure on my wrists releases and I let out a moan as the tightness in my shoulders eases. I bring my arms around in front of me and rub the skin around my wrists. I hadn’t realized how uncomfortable I had been. 

“Thank you,” I sigh before I can stop myself. 

“While I find your gratitude to be so very heartwarming, you should probably save it for something a little more worthwhile.” 

He comes around to face me again. I look up at him through my lashes and something dangerous flashes in his eyes as he stares down at me. I hate the way my skin pulls tight as I stare back at him. 

“Let’s go,” he grunts, inclining his head toward the door.

My eyes flick to the gun strapped to his thigh. It’s quick but he catches it, tsking softly.

“Don’t even think about it. Get up.” 

I rise from the chair and instantly begin falling as blood rushes to my head and everything spins. Strong arms wrap around me and I hear Seth’s curse as my vision starts going dark and fuzzy. 

“Fucking Teague,” he mutters, slinging my arm around his shoulders. “Can you walk or do I need to carry you?”

“I just need a second,” I grumble, shaking my head a little and waiting for my vision to clear. It doesn’t. 

My legs disappear out from under me and I can barely make out Seth’s voice in my ear. I might be concussed after all. He sweeps me up and my empty stomach lurches with the quick movement. Instinctually I grab the front of his shirt in my fist and cling to his chest with a groan. 

“Please don’t vomit on me,” he comments. 

“Excuse the fuck out of me if your cologne is nauseating.” It’s really not. He actually smells too good. Like fresh rain and lemons. 

A deep chuckle rumbles out of his chest and vibrates through my entire body.

“Whatever you say, B.” 

I stiffen against him but his stride remains strong and steady as he carries me to the adjoining bathroom.

“Why … How … Stop calling me that,” I say, letting go of his shirt and dropping my hand to my lap. 

Only Damien and Wesley know me as B. Perhaps this guy using the nickname is just a means to disarm me. Make me trust him. Well, that’s not going to fucking happen. If there’s one thing I’ve learned living in this life, it’s not to trust anyone. 

It only takes a few wide strides before we enter the bathroom. Black and white checkered tiles line the floors. The walls are the same deep red as the room outside with black, glossy wainscoting. A shiny, black chandelier hangs from the ceiling casting everything in a low glow. The whole space screams vintage sex dungeon. I wonder for the thousandth time where the fuck I am. 

“I feel like I need a safe word just to be in here,” I mutter as Seth sets me on my feet near the toilet. 

He lets out a bark of laughter that rings off the walls and reverberates through my skull. 

“It is a little dramatic, isn’t it?” he says, looking around the space, his hands still on my waist. 

“Yeah … You can let me go now.” His eyes dart back to mine. 

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want you to fall in.” 

“You know, you are awfully worried about my well-being for someone holding me hostage.” I narrow my eyes as he cocks a brow at me. 

“I’m not holding you anything.” Silence hangs in the air around us as we stare at one another for a moment. 

“Hurry up. Breakfast is getting cold.” He releases me then and I think he’s going to leave, but he just takes a couple of steps away and turns away with his hands clasped behind his back. 

“You’re just going to stand there while I piss?” I question. 

“Yes.” 

“Why? It’s not like I can escape with you standing outside the door. There are no windows in here.” I gesture around the room even though he can’t see me. 

“Captain’s orders,” he replies without a hint of emotion.

“And who, pray tell, is the captain?” I glare at him, debating whether or not I should be offended that he has given me his back, meaning he doesn’t see me as a threat. 

“Doesn’t matter.” He clasps his hands behind his back, rocking on his heels a little. 

“I beg to dif—”

“I thought you had to piss. Hurry up,” he cuts me off. 

Letting out a frustrated growl, I take care of my business, feeling my cheeks heat at the fact that he can hear me peeing. That just pisses me off. Embarrassment is not something I feel often and it makes me feel weak or something equally unacceptable. 

Once finished, I wash my hands. Only then does Seth turn around, gesturing for me to put my hands behind my back. I narrow my eyes at him and he raises a brow. 

“Cooperate, precious. I don’t want to force you, but I will if I have to. Though I’ll probably enjoy it.”

I’m not nearly as put off by his comment as I should be. Images flash through my mind of all the ways he could make me cooperate. Seth is an attractive guy to be sure. Shame burns my veins alongside something less guilty. This dude is working for the people that have Wesley and are doing who knows what to him. I shouldn’t be thinking about his body pushed up against my back, sandwiching me to the wall and tying my hands behind me for an entirely different reason.

His smirk tells me that my face is betraying my thoughts. I clear my throat and cross my hands behind my back. As he comes around me and begins tying my wrists together, I try to throw together a plan. His hands handle me gently and I don’t think I imagine the extra sweeps of his thumb across the pulse point of my wrists. Men are weak. Maybe if I cozy up to him, I can exploit his obvious attraction to me and use it to my advantage. If I play nice, maybe I can gain some privileges. With those privileges, I can seduce him. A man who is balls deep will give up all kinds of information or agree to a wide range of requests. Wesley will forgive me for doing what I need to to get us out of here. 

“You good to walk now?” Seth’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah, I think so.” My voice is too quiet and innocent. Makes me sick. 

He snorts and my brow furrows. What an odd reaction. 

“Walk then,” he says and my feet move toward the door. I let my hips sway more than necessary, feeling his eyes hard on my back. I don’t want to come on too strong or he might suspect that I’m up to something. It doesn’t hurt to test the waters though. 

I fall down into my metal chair with an exaggerated sigh. When I swing my gaze back to him, his eyes are narrowed on me. I raise an eyebrow at his clenched fists. His posture is rigid and I can tell that the wheels are turning in his head. Too many seconds pass as we stare at each other. 

“Well? Are you going to tie me back up?” I ask plainly, snapping him out of whatever he’s thinking about. 

He comes around me and secures my hands to the back of the chair like before and then moves in front of me. When he kneels at my feet, I very obviously spread my legs, placing each ankle next to the legs of the chair. His eyes flick to my face, their blue depths darkening slightly. From this position, I have to look down at him slightly and I would be lying if I said that he doesn’t look good on his knees between my parted thighs, weapons and all. Hell, even being tied up doesn’t dissuade me from appreciating the picture that we paint. A rush of heat shoots through me and I almost feel bad about it. 

I cock my head at him innocently and he just smirks and goes about securing my legs, pulling the bonds a bit tighter than necessary, causing me to grind my teeth together. Fucker. 

“Now, on to breakfast.” He picks up the plate that he had placed down earlier. 

He lifts the toast to my mouth once more and this time I willingly take a bite. After a few bites, I’m close enough to his finger that I let my teeth scrape his skin on my next bite. 

“Behave,” he chastises me.

I chew slowly, watching him closely. He lifts the toast again, and this time I flick his finger with the tip of my tongue, never looking away from his face. His eyes flare briefly before flicking to the camera in the corner, reminding me that someone is peeping on us 24/7. That could prove to be problematic, however, I’m not completely against putting on a live action porno if that’s what it takes to get me what I want. 

“I think that’s enough toast for you.” When Seth’s eyes turn back to me, the flare is gone, leaving ice cold depths. Maybe I imagined it, because the way he’s looking at me now is unyielding and impassive. 

He proceeds to feed me eggs off of a plastic spoon. I take my bites dutifully and don’t continue to play sexy, tantalizing hostage. He studies me with a hard indifference, lifting the spoon to my mouth in even intervals. When I’ve finished the eggs, he retrieves a small bottle of water from his cargo pant’s pocket. Unscrewing the cap, he lifts the bottle to my lips and I take a sip. In a flash, he squeezes the bottle and cold water floods my mouth, running out of the corners of my lips and all down the front of my black shirt. I cough as the water runs down the wrong pipe. My eyes water but I manage to glare at Seth as he slowly stands. His face is void of all emotion and he screws the cap back onto the bottle. He comes around my back again and I’m still coughing when he grabs ahold of my braid, wrapping it around his hand and pulling my head back. 

“He warned me about you,” he mutters, running his nose up the side of my exposed neck. 

His hand tightens in my hair and when I’m finally able to take a full breath again, it’s ragged. Confusion swirls in my mind. Who is he? And what has he warned about me? A tremor snakes down my spine when I feel Seth’s lips coast over the shell of my ear. 

“You aren’t going to fuck your way out of here,” he whispers and I focus on holding in the whimper that wants to escape my throat. “But please, continue to try. We just might like it.” 

We?

I don’t have a chance to ask what he means by that before he abruptly lets go of my hair, shoving my head forward roughly. He’s out of the room, slamming the door behind him before I’m able to fully process anything that just happened. 

Four

Three meals, two extra bathroom breaks, two rotating guards, seven days. Those are the words I repeat over and over again. I haven’t seen Seth since that first breakfast seven days ago. The two guards that replaced him are decidedly less pretty to look at and significantly poorer company. Every day I ask where Wesley is, and every day I get the same answer. Not in here. This must be what it feels like to be trapped in an insane asylum. If this is a form of torture, it’s pretty effective because I’m feeling close to crazy. I feel eyes on me day and night from the camera in the corner of the room. I spend most of every day in complete silence in this barren room. At each meal, some dude feeds me and lets me up to go to the bathroom, staying in the room just as Seth had, before resecuring me to my metal throne and leaving.

I’ve tried not to think too much about Damien. Is he looking for me? Probably not. I’m sure he knows that I went looking for Wesley. He tried to tell me time and time again to just let him go. If the Black Skull has him, it’s not worth it. You can’t get him out. His days are already numbered. That’s what he told me over and over again. Did I listen? No. Why would he come for me and go against everything he preached? Because he’s your brother? I snort into the silence of the empty room. Blood doesn’t mean much in the D’Angelo family. Someone should tell that to these fucks. If they think that they can somehow use me to get to my father, they would be very wrong.

It’s almost time for my dinner on day seven of this weird ass torture routine when the door knob slowly turns, the door gliding open soundlessly. In walks Seth, looking exceptionally well-rested and fresh. His red hair falls in soft waves and his blue eyes are bright as they fix on me. I’m sure I look like a sewer rat. I sure as fuck feel like one. My face finally stopped aching from the blow delivered by Teague a couple of days ago, but I know it’s still bruised if the quick glance I got in the bathroom mirror earlier is to be believed.

“Fuck. You look terrible, B,” he says rather blandly as he approaches, crouching in front of me. His white t-shirt pulls taught across defined muscles. His hands dandle between his legs and my attention snags on his corded forearms. Those are some super sexy forearms. 

“Stop calling me that,” I reply, but there isn’t any fire behind it. 

“Look alive. Today is a special day,” he says, ignoring me. 

I look at him and the gleam in his eyes sparks apprehension in me. 

“Is that right?” I ask, schooling my features into indifference. 

“It is,” he nods before grabbing one of my ankles and untying it. He moves to the other one. 

I can’t keep this up. I wait until he comes around behind me, untying my bound hands from the chair. He expects me to get up right away, but I don’t. Instead, I wait. 

“Let’s go.” 

I don’t move.

“Don’t make me force you.”

Still don’t move.

He waits for a few seconds before grabbing my arm and ripping me out of the chair. I don’t hesitate. I spin around, dipping and kicking out a leg, catching him in the knees. Caught off guard, he goes down with a sharp curse, taking the chair with him. I wobble trying to regain balance with my arms still tied together behind my back. His arm shoots out, grabbing my ankle and yanking. I go down hard, my hip taking most of the impact. 

“That wasn’t very nice,” he grits out, pulling me toward him by the leg. 

“Fuck you!”

I kick him in the chin with my other foot. He falls back, letting go of my leg. Scrambling away from him, I try to get my arms under me to push myself up and to my feet. I manage to get to my knees facing the door before his arm bands around my waist and the cool, metal barrel of his gun is pressed to my temple. 

“While that sounds like a wonderful idea, we have somewhere to be and I don’t have the time to get off properly. It would be a total waste.” His hot breath coasts over my cheek and I wish I could blame the shiver working its way through my body on the fear of having a gun to my head. I’m not afraid of his gun though. It’s been pressed to my head before and I wasn’t afraid of it then either. 

The arm around my waist tightens and his broad hand on my hip burns my skin through my clothes. His body is a solid wall behind me. We are plastered together and I can feel the rise and fall of his chest on my back. My hips are nestled into his crotch and if I’m not mistaken, he has a hard-on. I push back and a rough laugh rumbles in his chest when his dick rubs between my ass cheeks. I’m not mistaken. My fast breathing is no longer a product of our wrestling match. I have a serious problem. 

“Stop playing. I’m sorry, precious. There just isn’t any time.” 

He releases me but doesn’t put his gun away, instead, he yanks me to my feet and pokes me in the back with it to get me walking toward the door. I shake his hand off my arm and start walking. 

“Where are we going?” 

“You’ll see.”

I let out an annoyed huff befitting a child. Evasive as ever I see. Out in the hallway, I note the two guards that have been tending to me over the past week standing sentry next to my door. A frown pulls at my brow as I take in my surroundings for the first time since arriving here. The door to my cell is only one in a long line down the hall. Deep red carpet covers the floor and there is more black wainscoting and crawling up the walls. Wall sconces are placed evenly between each door casting the dark interior in a rather sensual light. If I had to guess, I’d say that we are in an old hotel. Or maybe a brothel. The latter better fits the decor. 

“Is a pair of little twin girls going to pop out of one of these doors and ask me to play with them?” I drawl to Seth who nudges me toward the right. 

“Fuck, I hope not,” he says as if he’s considering the disturbing possibility. One of the guards next to the door snorts.

“You don’t sound all that confident.” 

“I’m really not. I don’t like to spend the night here because it’s a little creepy at night.” 

My eyes widen as I think about that. What exactly does he mean by that? Then I find myself wondering about where he stays at night. It doesn’t fucking matter. I keep putting one foot in front of the other. At the end of the hall, Seth turns me to the left and directs me to an old stairwell. If I thought the hall was dimly lit, it’s nothing compared to the little space I’m in now. The only light comes from a red bulb above the door that we entered, making everything look overly eerie. The metal staircase goes up and it goes down, both options dark and ominous and neither one appealing.

“Up you go.” His voice startles me and I jump, barely containing a squeak. 

I trudge up the stairs, the sound of my combat boots on the metal stairs echoes all around us, soon joined by Seth’s heavy steps behind me. One flight up, he stops me at another door identical to the last one but minus the eerie red light. Reaching around me, he bangs twice on the metal surface with his fist. A lock slides open from the other side and the door is opened revealing another hallway and a handful of guards. All of their faces are hidden except for their eyes by black coverings similar to the scarf I had been wearing when I was captured. Unease prickles at my senses and I don’t realize that I’ve stopped walking until the metal barrel pushes between my shoulders. 

“Keep walking. We’re going to the last door on the left.” 

Willing my breath to steady, I move my feet, taking measured steps. Damien was probably right. If Black Skull captures you, you’re as good as dead already. I’ve had it pretty easy for the last week. My time is probably up. Today is the day I die. Or at the very least, the day I wish I was dead. The only thing that could make this observation more obvious would have been Seth taking me to the basement. Deciding to hold on to that little kernel of hope, I step up to the last door on the left. Blood rushes in my ears and my fingers tingle where my hands are still bound behind my back. Breathing feels difficult. This was so very stupid of me. I should have just dropped it. But they have Wesley. It doesn’t matter now though. They have me too. I can escape. I know I can. We both can. But I’m not sure if I’ll live long enough to get the chance. 

Seth reaches around me to knock on the door.

“Wait!” I rush out. 

His hand halts just a couple of inches away from the smooth wooden door. I turn to look at him and I’m sure I look ridiculous, wide-eyed and filthy. 

“Am I about to die? Because I’d really like to fix my hair first if that’s the case.” 

His lips twitch and he looks like he’s holding in a laugh as he studies the hair in question. He pulls his hand back from the door and his fingertips run the length of my ratty braid. When he gets to the end, he grabs it in his fist and wraps it around his knuckles a couple of times. He pulls my head back and I try to be unaffected while simultaneously fighting the urge to headbutt him when he leans in to whisper in my ear.

“I like you looking rough and wild.” 

That should be repulsive. I don’t even know this guy. Unfortunately, my cunt doesn’t get the idea and clenches at his words. It doesn’t matter that there are six other dudes patrolling the length of the hall or that I can feel all of their eyes on us. Heat blossoms low in my belly and I start to think that it would be a mercy to be ended. Maybe it would save me from the shame of feeling anything for this piece of Black Skull shit. Spoken like a true D’Angelo. How laughable. 

“That doesn’t answer my question,” I say, but it comes out too breathy and I want to groan in frustration. 

“You’re not about to die.” He runs his nose along my jaw. “Well, probably not.” 

That isn’t exactly a hopeful answer, but then again, I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed. He releases me and I exhale harshly, suddenly feeling a little dizzy. I’m going to blame it on the stress of the situation that I have found myself in. 

He doesn’t pause this time as he whips his fist out and bangs on the door. A muffled voice on the other side of the wood calls out for us to enter and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Seth twists the handle and pushes the door open. Time slows down to a crawl and the floor feels like it’s falling out from under me. I’m pushed into the room and almost fall before Seth catches my arm, righting me. A ringing starts up in my ears and I just stare. I stare and try to convince myself that I’m not seeing what’s in front of me. This is all a terrible dream that I’m going to wake up from. I’m going to wake up and it’ll be morning and Damien will make us breakfast and I’ll tell him all about this bizarre dream where I did this stupid, stupid thing. We’ll laugh at my subconscious for thinking it could save Wesley. That has to be what happens because if this is reality, I don’t want it. 

“Beckett,” the man behind the desk says, the deep timbre of his voice reaching all the way to my toes. 

His hair is different. It’s red like Seth’s. But everything else is exactly the same, including the bright blue eyes. He has the same sharp jaw shadowed with stubble. Full lips that have whispered so many words to me in the dark. His skin is clean and clothed in an all-black suit with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, exposing tattooed forearms. The room falls away and I’m torn between wanting to smile with relief and wanting to scream with rage. 

“Beckett.” 

I take a deep breath that burns everywhere. 

“Wes.”

Five

“Untie her.”

I don’t even feel Seth’s fingers as he swiftly releases my wrists from their bonds and my arms fall to my sides. I just keep staring. My mind twists backward, forward, and sideways in an attempt to figure out how this happened. 

“Would you like to sit down?” Wesley asks me, his face impassive. “You look like you might be seconds away from passing out. Are you even breathing?” 

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out, including air. 

“Okay, B. You really need to breathe. I’m not all that certain that my brother will catch you if you pass out.”

My eyes shoot to Seth and he smirks. I look at Wes and then back to Seth. I continue looking between them, cataloging all of the similarities. Wesley has a brother. Seth—Mr. Bo-Peep—is Wesley’s brother. 

Wesley. 

Everything goes silent. His mouth is moving, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. Fire burns through me and in a blink I go from standing motionless in front of the large oak desk to launching myself over it and tackling Wes right out of his fancy-ass chair. We hit the ground and I use his surprise to roll on top of him.

“Motherfucker!” I screech, throwing my fist at his face. 

My knuckles crack across his cheek and his head snaps to the side. Pain flares up my arm but I barely feel it as I pull back to swing again. He catches my arm, keeping me from getting another blow in. 

“That wasn’t very nice.” He sounds so much like Seth just minutes ago in my cell. The cell he’s been keeping me in. 

I growl as anger renews. I swing with my other hand and he catches that one too. He rolls us until he’s on top of me, our legs bumping into the desk. His hair falls down onto his forehead as he looks down at me. He has my hands pinned on either side of my head and the position is so familiar that an instinctual heat rises in my blood and I hate it. 

“You look like shit, baby,” he comments dryly, looking over me with anything but disgust. “Rough few days?”  

I smirk at him before smacking my forehead into his nose. He grunts, but his grip loosens and I pull a leg up between us. I push on his chest with all of my strength, managing to dislodge him and I jump to my feet. One glance tells me that Seth is still standing near the door, watching us with a smirk. The glance costs me. Wes is up. He grabs my arm, twisting it behind my back and shoving my torso down on his desk.

“I think that’s enough, B,” he says gruffly into my ear, his body melded to my back. 

My eyes lock onto a glass of scotch next to me. In a split second, I weigh the option of having my arm broken or getting in the last blow. I grab the glass with my free hand and smash it into the side of Wes’s head. He lets me go with a curse and I flip around, breathing heavily. Blood runs down the side of his face and down his neck. The exasperated look on his face would make me laugh if this was even remotely funny. I’m too angry. I go to rush him again even though he’s not moving to subdue me. My scalp burns and I’m yanked backward by my braid. Something cold presses into my throat. 

“He said that’s enough,” Seth says calmly into my ear. I stare at Wes, my chest heaving and neck stretching under the grip of Seth’s hold on my hair. 

Dude has a knife to my throat and sounds completely unaffected, maybe even a little humored. 

“I understand that you must be a little angry with me,” Wesley muses, dabbing the side of his face with his fingers and inspecting the blood coating them. 

“No shit, asshole,” I seeth, wincing at the burn in my scalp when Seth tightens his hold. I quickly become annoyed when heat blooms in my stomach at being handled like this. 

“It’s not what you think. Well, it is. But it’s not. I do regret that you’ve been caught in the middle of the mess Michael has made.”

Michael. My dear old dad. He’s been ruining my life since I was a child and it seems that he’s still at it. 

“I’m waiting with bated breath to discover exactly how this has anything to do with me.” I gesture with a hand to the knife still poised at my throat, irritation and frustration bubbling up inside me. 

“Are you going to attack me again if Seth releases you?” Wes asks, cocking a brow. 

“Probably.”

His eyes flare, daring me to try. 

“Let her go,” he says too calmly, never taking his eyes off me. 

The pull in my hair leaves and the cool metal on my neck disappears as does the heat of Seth’s body at my back when he steps away from me. I feel oddly disappointed. 

“Sit, Beckett.” 

“I’d rather stand,” I retort through gritted teeth. “I’ve been doing a lot of sitting for the last week.” 

“Ah, yes. I’m sorry about that. I’ve been dealing with some business and was unable to arrange this meeting sooner. I’ve been keeping an eye on you though. Making sure you didn’t severely maim anyone.” I think about the camera in the corner of my bare room. My eyes narrow on him but my stomach sours when I think about the way I had tried to seduce his brother. Oops. 

He takes a seat on the corner of his desk, clasping his hands in his lap. His lips pull up into a smirk as if he knows exactly where my thoughts have gone and my body responds to his magnetism, pulling tight in all the most inappropriate ways. He’s entirely too close to me. It’s been months since I’ve seen him. Months since that last night that we were together. My body wants to go to him. I want to kiss him, feel him. He literally played you and then kidnapped you. 

My anger renews and I want to launch myself at him again. 

“So, what? You work for Black Skull now?” I ask, folding my arms across my chest to keep from wrapping my hands around his throat. 

Seth snorts behind me and Wes’s smile grows as he shoots the other man a quick glance. Opening a random drawer in the desk, he retrieves a small cloth and proceeds to wipe the side of his face where blood still drips from a few cuts made by the whiskey glass. 

“Baby, I am Black Skull,” he says matter-of-factly, continuing to clean his face as if his statement is no big deal. 

My spine straightens even though it feels like the ground was pulled out from under my feet. No. This has to be some kind of trick, because that would mean … I don’t want to think of all the things that would mean. 

“Well, if you think you can use me to get to my father, you’d be mistaken. You should know that.” My voice is steadier than it should be as I shift on my feet, unease slithering through my veins. 

“I think you have more sway than you think. But that’s not the reason I took you.” 

I scoff at that, looking anywhere but at him, shaking my head. Tears prick the backs of my eyes at how fucked up this is, but I won’t let them fall. I will not cry in front of him. 

“Then why, pray tell, am I here, Wes? Fuck, is that even your name?” 

“It is.” I hate the softness in his voice. “And you are here because I want you to be. I get what I want.” 

***

I didn’t get a chance to mouth off about that as a knock came at the door. Some dude with dark hair and his face covered except for his brown eyes entered and told Wesley his presence was needed elsewhere. 

“Take her to get cleaned up. She smells,” Wes had told Seth, smiling widely at the glare I sent him. “Don’t let her attack anyone. If she tries, tie her up again.”  

I could have screamed at his talking about me as if I wasn’t standing right in front of him. When he caught me off guard, stepping forward and grabbing my chin roughly, placing a quick, hard kiss on my lips, something inside me cracked open. My body felt numb but wired at the same time. I wanted to break his nose, but he released me so quickly and left the little office that my brain didn’t have time to catch up. 

That’s how I ended up here, walking down the creepy stairwell again with Seth at my back. 

“Where are we going?” I ask as we pass the door with the red light that we came out of earlier—the door that leads to my cell. 

“You’ll see.” The déjà vu that is this conversation is infuriating.

“Are you really his brother?” I ask Seth as he directs me to the next door we come to.

“Is it not obvious?” 

We walk through the door into another dimly lit hall one floor down from where I was held all week. I turn to look at him, taking in his large frame. He’s bigger than Wes, but they have the same square jaw though Wes has a beard where Seth is clean shaven. They have the same brilliant blue eyes and apparently the same red hair. Wesley must have been using hair dye before. Before I thought he had been kidnapped and held hostage. 

“I guess it is … now,” I concede, turning to face the row of doors lining the hall. 

We walk down the hall at a sedate pace in silence. I try to figure out how all this happened. Wracking my brain, I can’t piece it together. Wesley’s deception had been flawless, down to the day he obviously staged his own kidnapping. Memories of gunshots and squealing tires on wet asphalt. Something in me must have broken that day when I watched through the back glass of the car screaming for Damien to go back as Wesley’s unconscious body was thrown into a black hummer. Something must have broken for me to be as unaffected as I am right now. It’s probably shock that won’t last, but as Seth stops me with a hand on my elbow at a door in the middle of the long hall, all I feel is relief that Wes isn’t dead—that he isn’t broken and beaten. Well, he’s kind of beaten now courtesy of my fists and a broken glass. 

Seth unlocks the door and steps around me, pulling me inside with him. I expect another bare room, maybe even another metal chair. Instead, I walk into a fully furnished bedroom while he closes the door behind us and comes to stand in front of me. There’s a large bed big enough for at least four people to sleep comfortably against the far wall. Black sheets and a ridiculously fluffy looking duvet wrap round the mattress. Two small nightstands are placed on either side. The same gaudy red carpet lines the floor and there’s an honest to shit crystal chandelier in here. Off to the side of the room there’s a small round table with two red leather chairs placed on either side. 

“Okay, seriously. What’s up with all the black and red and seductive lighting? This place is like one big sex dungeon,” I say, making Seth chuckle. 

“Wes has a flair for the dramatic, but this place was already designed like this. He just stuck with the theme when he furnished it. It used to be a—” 

“Brothel?” I ask, mouth falling open when he looks back at me and nods in confirmation. “Seriously?” 

“Yes, seriously. A secret brothel, but a brothel nonetheless.” 

“That explains a lot.” I shake my head taking a few more steps into the room. “I thought I’d be going back to my cell. Whose room is this?” 

“Wesley’s.”

My eyes fly to his, widening. “Why?”

“Because he wants you here,” he shrugs, turning away. 

I watch him walk to a small dresser and pull out some clothing, before walking back and holding them out to me. 

“Bathroom is that way.” He jerks his head to the left where there’s an open doorway. “Take a shower. He’s right, you do smell.” I scowl at him but he just continues. “Wait here until he comes for you. There’s going to be a guard posted outside this door, so don’t even think about running. Even if there wasn’t a guard, you wouldn’t make it out of this building before he catches you. Nod or something so that I know you understand.” 

I hadn’t realized I’d stopped breathing as I stared at him with my mouth hanging open. What the actual fuck is going on? I nod slowly and he returns the gesture with a nod of his own. 

“Good girl.” He smirks when I snap my mouth shut at those two words, inappropriate places on my body heating. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again, precious.” He winks and leaves me standing in the middle of the room holding a men’s t-shirt and pajama pants in my outstretched arms, staring at the space he vacated. 

The click of the door shutting behind me causes me to jolt out of my stupor and I turn for the bathroom. Part of me wants to refuse the order to bathe and roll all over Wes’s bed with my dirty body, but a hot shower just sounds too wonderful. The bathroom looks exactly like the one attached to the room I was held in, only there are personal effects in this one. A toothbrush and toothpaste sit in a holder on the vanity and a hand towel hangs on the hook attached to the wall. There’s soap and shampoo in the shower, towels folded neatly on a shelf. This is his space, his stuff. Betrayal burns my chest as I strip out of my clothes and turn on the shower. While the water heats, I pull the tie from my hair and begin working the long strands out of the braid and letting the length trail down my naked back. When the water is almost too hot to stand, I step in, closing the glass door behind me. 

I close my eyes as the hot water runs over my face, stinging my skin. I replay the last hour of my life over and over again in my head. My limbs feel heavier with every second that passes. I’m too tired for this shit. Turns out sleeping sitting up while tied to a metal chair makes for a shitty night of rest. I fantasize about cracking Wes over the head with something when he “comes for me” and making a run for it. I don’t give a fuck if he wants me here. What does that even mean? What purpose could I serve with just my presence in his creepy-ass abandoned brothel? 

I think you have more sway than you think. 

I open my eyes, shutting down my thoughts before they can frustrate me further. I reach for a bar of soap from the shelf on the wall. Mindlessly I wash the last week off my skin before moving on to my hair, wincing when my fingers hook on numerous knots. Once I’m finished and feel clean, if only on the outside, I just stand under the spray until my legs threaten to give out under my weight. I’m so tired. 

I shut off the water and open the glass door, letting out a surprised shout when I see Wes leaning against the doorway of the bathroom, staring at me. 

“What the fuck, Wes!” I quickly grab a towel from beside the shower, using the folded fabric to cover my naked body. 

“I’m rather familiar with your naked body, B. Don’t act modest now,” he says, pushing off the wall and sauntering over to me.

“Fuck you,” I spit out, feeling my cheeks heat.

“Is that an invitation?” He reaches a hand out and brushes a strand of wet hair off my forehead, tucking it behind my ear. His eyes follow the slope of my neck and down to where I clutch the towel to my front. 

“No,” I say dryly but it doesn’t carry the weight I was hoping for. My logical mind doesn’t want anything to do with him, but my body screams for his and the very real pleasure that only he has ever been able to give it. 

“We’ll have to see what we can do about that,” he says more to himself than to me. “Are you hungry? I’ve been told that you haven’t had dinner yet.” 

I’m angry that I am, in fact, starving. I’d been brought three meals a day for an entire week but something about being fed by hand by random men holding me hostage had killed my appetite. Now it’s back and the little I’ve been able to eat recently isn’t doing shit for me. 

Begrudgingly, I nod, drawing those beautiful, deceitful eyes back to my face. I don’t move when his thumb brushes across the place where Teague had hit me. His eyes harden and a little thrill runs through me against my will. The look on Wes’s face right now screams violence and merges with the memory of Seth ripping Teague away from me and pinning him to the wall. I bite down on my bottom lip out of habit, drawing his attention to my mouth. Why does violence have to heat my blood? 

Clearing my throat, I pull my face away from his hand, breaking whatever spell we were just under. 

“I know that I’m like a hostage and everything, but can you please leave so I can get dressed?” I look down at my feet, hating how weak my voice sounds. 

“You’re not a hostage.”

My eyes shoot back to his. “Am I allowed to leave?”

“No.” 

“Then I am either a hostage, or I’m a prisoner. Which is it?” His jaw hardens but he doesn’t answer. “That’s what I thought.”  

We stare at one another for a few uncomfortable seconds. He looks away first. 

“I’ll have dinner brought down. Get dressed.” 

He turns and leaves through the open doorway. I don’t waste any time drying off and throwing on the t-shirt and pants. They hang off my frame comically, but they’re warm and clean. They smell like him—the smell I remember from before, but also different. My chest pulls painfully. Is that what he is now? The same man I knew—the man I loved—just different? I scoff to myself and the weakness that I need to get tied down before it can be exploited. It already has though, hasn’t it? 

I find Wes sitting at the small round table, doing something on his phone. All of this feels too comfortable and domestic when I take a seat across from him. Minutes later, a knock sounds at the door and he calls to a man who enters with a rolling cart carrying our dinner as well as two wine glasses and a bottle of red. How cute. 

The steak and roasted potatoes taste significantly better than the sandwiches I’d been fed all week. I don’t realize how fast I’m eating until my plate is empty and I consider picking it up to lick it clean. Downing my glass of wine, I reach over and grab the bottle, filling my glass again. 

“So, I’m interested in how exactly you plan to use me to get to my father. You should know he doesn’t give a shit about me,” I say, taking a large gulp of my wine, the alcohol already kissing my veins, warming me. 

“You’re right. He doesn’t give two fucks.” Wesley settles back in his chair. “But let me ask you something. If some unfortunate accident were to occur, causing Michael to meet an untimely end,” he pauses, picking up his wine glass and taking a sip, his eyes never leaving me, “who takes his place?” 

 

Six

Everything in me freezes and my glass stops halfway to my mouth. My mind races at his implication. 

“You’re wrong. We were taught from birth that blood means nothing. Attachment is a weakness. He won’t …” I trail off shaking my head. 

“You think Damien won’t come for you? I spent months with you and your brother, Beckett. For fuck’s sake, he left the compound for you.”  He shifts forward again, pinning me with a look that says too much.

“No, he didn’t. He left for himself.” 

“It’s naive of you to believe that.” 

I can’t sit still. I push up from my chair and begin pacing. If Wes kills my father—and that’s a big if—Damien will take his place as heir. If Damien comes for me … Surely Wes wouldn’t kill him, but I’m not really sure anymore. 

“What is it exactly that you want, Wes?” 

“Everything, B. I want everything and I’ll do whatever I have to in order to achieve that.” 

I hadn’t seen him get up from the table, but he’s right next to me now. I stop my pacing to look at him. Hurt punches me in the gut. He sure as fuck did a good job of weaseling his way into the only family keeping him from running the entire state. 

Hot tears burn my eyes once more and before I can stop myself, my arm cocks back and then my knuckles are smashing into his cheek. 

“Fuck!” he roars. Recovering quickly, he lurches forward and grabs my arms, pulling me roughly into his heaving chest. Our faces are so close that I can feel his breath on my lips and our noses brush. “That’s the last one you get for free, baby. Hit me again and it’ll cost you.” 

I glare at him, my heart beating painfully in my chest. What am I doing? I should be pushing him away. I should be fighting him tooth and nail. I’m a hostage here whether that’s what he wants to call it or not. This whole situation is fucked, but right now there’s only one thing I want to do. We both seem to come to the same conclusion. Wes yanks me impossibly closer and his lips crash into mine.

Our teeth smack together as we fight for dominance. His tongue shoves into my mouth and a long repressed moan rumbles deep in my throat. I lose my head as he licks every inch of my mouth, tasting me just like he used to. He tastes like wine and Wes. His beard sears my skin, but the burn inflames me. Wet heat rushes to my core when he grinds his hips into me and I feel his growing erection. My eyes pop open and a little bit of reality creeps in. I manage to dislodge one of my hands from between us and I smack him across the face, hard. He pulls away from me with a curse before grabbing my face with both hands, pulling my lips back to his with a feral growl. He bites my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, the metallic tang filling my mouth. My eyes roll back in my head and Lady Lust takes the wheel, driving me right off a bridge. 

I grab the front of his shirt with both hands, pulling with all of my strength. My cunt clenches when the material rips and I hear buttons scattering across the floor. My hands glide down the hard slabs of muscle that rope across his chest and torso, hooking on the waistband of his pants. I pull him to me with one hand and palm his dick with the other, squeezing and teasing.

“Fuck, B,” he growls against my mouth. 

One of his hands travels down my neck, ending up at my chest. His thumb finds my nipple through the cotton of my borrowed shirt. I shiver and then cry out when he pinches the sensitive peak. His lips travel a hot path across my jaw before his teeth bite down on my earlobe, forcing another moan from me. 

“I watched you on the camera, you know,” he breathes into my ear. “I saw you trying to seduce my brother.” 

A tremor skates down my spine, apprehension filling my head. His hand curls around my throat, squeezing gently. 

“Tell me, Beckett. Do you want him too?”

I open my mouth to deny it, but the word won’t come out. Do I want Seth? No. Yes. It had been all too easy to resign myself to sleeping with him in order to—as he put it—fuck my way out of here. 

“What if I do?” I ask, gasping when his teeth sink into my skin directly below his hand, slowly cutting off my air supply.

“It’s okay if you do. In fact it might be nice to have help satisfying your needy little cunt. You’re insatiable, B.”

I moan as he pinches my nipple again, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. 

“He’s standing outside. Should I go get him?” His tongue flicks my earlobe and I fist my hands in his shirt pulling him closer to me. “I’ll warn you though. He’s crazier than I am.” 

I had seen evidence of that when he had placed a gun to my head on multiple occasions. My core heats at the thought of Seth putting his tattooed hands on my skin, delivering punishing pleasure. Did I want that? Yes. I absolutely did. 

“What’s it gonna be, Beckett?” 

“Yes,” I breathe, but the air is cut off as his hand squeezes. My eyes close and my mouth drops open as my head swims. 

“You are such a greedy little slut. I fucking love it,” he growls in my ear, sending a gush of wet heat straight to my core. “Let’s get you ready, baby.” 

I only have a second to wonder what he means when he lets go of my neck and twists the shirt in his grip to pull it up. I lift my arms and he rips the cotton over my head, tossing it to the side. His mouth goes straight for my left breast, pulling my nipple between his teeth and stretching the sensitive skin. 

“Wes,” I cry out at the sharp sting. Gripping his hair, pulling at the roots. 

His hand delves into the pajama pants cinched around my hips and his skilled fingers find my clit with maximum efficiency. He rubs the sensitive bundle of nerves in tight, rough circles, shooting bolts of pleasure throughout my entire body. My toes curl into the red carpet and he shoves the pants the rest of the way down, exposing my center to the cool air. Shivers skate down my spine and his arm comes around my middle holding me up as he bites down on my breast at the same time he thrusts a finger into me. My loud moan echoes around the room and I wonder if Seth can hear me from outside the door. Wesley’s mouth lets go of my breast with a wet pop and his lips trail up the column of my neck

“Are you gonna come for me like the good little slut that you are?” Wes rasps against my lips, his breaths hot and fast.

“Yes,” I gasp as he adds another finger on a stiff thrust, curling the digits inside me. My legs go weak but he holds me up. My hands land on his shoulders, nails digging in as I start to flutter around him. Tingles start up in my spine and I feel my muscles tightening. He grinds the heel of his palm down hard on my clit on his next thrust and lights flash behind my closed eyelids. 

“Come for me, B.” And I do. I scream his name, my head falling back as release steals my breath. 

He strokes me through the tremors as I ride out my orgasm on his hand. His lips place kisses on the thundering pulse in my neck before his tongue swipes a path up my throat, collecting the sheen of sweat that has gathered on my skin. 

When I finally stop shaking, he releases me, pulling his fingers from me. I open my eyes to look at him, watching as he brings his hand to his mouth. He sucks his fingers into his mouth, cleaning up the mess I made on his hand. Those intense blue eyes never leave mine and I feel dizzy watching him through the haze of post-orgasmic bliss. His hands find my hips to steady me as I sway, uneasy on my feet. 

“Stay right here and don’t move,” he says, grabbing my chin and placing a quick, hard kiss to my lips. I don’t have the mental capacity to fight him at the moment, so I do as I’m told. 

He walks around me and I hear him moving things around behind me. I stare at the door to the room, thinking about Seth standing out there. I wonder if Wes is really going to go get him. Would he leave me with Seth? Or would he stay and share me with him? I really hope it’s the latter.

Seconds later, Wes returns. My eyes drop to his hands, narrowing slightly on the black, silky rope that he holds. 

“Hands,” he commands. 

Feeling curious, I hold my fists out to him. The slide of the rope against the sensitive skin is pleasant as he wraps it around my wrists. He knots the rope tight enough that I’m very aware of its presence and it would probably rub raw if I fought against it too hard. When he’s satisfied, he takes a couple of steps back, inspecting me with intense concentration. His brow furrows slightly and he tilts his head. He scans me from head to toe, not missing a single naked inch of me. I fight the urge to clench my thighs together under his heavy stare. With my hands tied in front of me, my breasts are pushed together, my nipples pulling into almost painful peaks. There’s a faint pink bite mark on my left boob and I’m sure there’s one on my neck as well. 

“Something’s missing,” he murmurs more to himself than me, rubbing a thumb over his bottom lip. 

I shift on my feet and his eyes snap up to mine, going a little wide. 

“Ah! That’s it! You’re a genius, B.” 

I frown in confusion as he walks behind me again, wondering what he could be getting now. 

I get my answer a moment later when a strip cloth covers my eyes, making me flinch in surprise. Wes secures the fabric behind my head and I’m plunged into total darkness. My body seems to come alive with the loss of my sight. It feels like there are thousands of live wires under my skin. Just the air in the room brushing over my naked body makes me want to moan. I become even more aware of the rope on my wrists and my breathing quickens. I feel the air shift around me and then Wes’s heat touches the front of my body. He runs a finger down the center of my chest and I let out a breathy sound, arousal renewing between my legs and slicking my thighs. 

“Perfect,” he groans. 

He must take a step back because I feel cold again. I don’t dare move. I hear a door open and then whispers that are too quiet for me to make out. The door closes and I curse the stupid red carpet for making it impossible to hear footsteps. What if they just left me in here like this? My cheeks heat a little at the thought. That would be slightly humiliating. I shift again, growing anxious at the quiet of the room. The hairs on the back of my neck raise and my heart beats painfully in my chest. 

“Wes?” I say quietly. 

Nothing. 

My skin prickles and I tug against the ropes binding my wrists, panic threatening to take over with every second that passes. 

“Wes!” I hiss. 

Wondering if this is some sort of test, I’m about to lift my hands and remove the blindfold when air coasts across my cheek. 

“Are you scared, B?” 

Seth. 

My body jerks and my chest pounds. I let out a small surprised sound. Heat touches my front and then there’s a hand running up the back of my naked thigh and along the curve of my ass, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

“She doesn’t know fear like she should.”

Wes. 

A rush of anger surges through me as my pulse pounds and I react without much thought. I swing my bound arms out high, taking a guess that Seth is the one in front of me. My fisted hands connect with what feels like a jaw and a pained grunt follows. Arms come around me from behind, catching my wrists and pulling them over my head. 

“That wasn’t very nice,” Wes says into my ear. He pulls my arms back further until they slip over his head to rest on the back of his neck. His hard body crowds my back and I can feel his erection pressing into my ass through his pants. 

“I agree. That really wasn’t nice at all,” Seth says. My body jerks against Wes as Seth flicks one of my nipples, hard. “What a bad girl.” 

“Fuck you,” I grit out, receiving a flick to the other nipple. Wes’s hands grab my hips, pulling me harder against his dick. A foot kicks my legs further apart and cool air rushes across my core. 

“Bad girl indeed. With such a dirty mouth,” Wes whispers into my ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue. “Punish her for it,” he says to his brother. 

I don’t even have time to think of all the ways I could be punished before a hot mouth lands on my clit, sucking deep. My legs give out and Wes’s hands on my hips hold me up for his brother.

“Fuck she tastes good,” Seth groans. He picks up one of my legs and places it over his shoulder, opening me to him. His tongue laves at me, tracing a firm line from entrance to clit and back. I moan, my head rolling back into Wes. On Seth’s next pass, his teeth clamp down on my clit and my thighs shake, release already beginning to crest. I try to rock against his face, but Wes holds me back, tsking softly in my ear. 

“You aren’t in control here, baby.” His tongue licks up the side of my neck and I pull at the rope binding my wrists behind his head. “Look at you. So needy and so bad.” 

I shout Seth’s name as a thick finger plunges into me. His low growl rumbles against my clit when my arousal gushes onto his hand. My back tenses and my inner walls clench onto his finger as release builds, ready to explode—

Seth retreats from me and cool air rushes in again. My impending orgasm melts away and I let out a frustrated sound. Both men chuckle darkly and I groan, realizing that this is my punishment. They are punishing me with pleasure. 

“Again,” Wes orders after a moment. He begins kissing and sucking at my neck as his brother’s mouth and hands land on me. “Hold on, baby. We’re just getting started.”

***

Torture. Absolute fucking torture. I don’t know how much time has passed with Seth bringing me to the edge over and over again, pulling away at the last second. Wes kisses and bites my neck, holding me up for his brother’s ministrations. My overstimulated clit throbs painfully, sweat drips down between my breasts, and my hair clings to my damp skin. Pitiful sounds leave my throat and I roll my head back and forth. I’ve never needed anything as badly as I need to come right now. 

“I can’t,” I pant. “I can’t.” I loathe how weak I sound, how broken. 

“Are you saying you want to stop?” Seth asks, running his tongue around my clit, coming close but not touching it. I imagine that one swipe over those nerves would shatter me at this point.

“I need to come. I have to.” My voice breaks as my body shakes. 

“Hitting isn’t nice. Have you learned your lesson?” Wes asks, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into my skin despite the torture they are inflicting upon me.

“Yes.”

“You want to come?”
“I need it.”

Quiet falls around me, the sound of my own breath and beating heart pound in my ears. Strong hands grip my thighs, massaging the weakened muscles. Then I’m being lifted and I feel Seth’s breath against my core as my thighs sit on his wide shoulders. Wes still holds my waist, my shoulders aching from being pulled over my head for so long. 

“Beg. Beg me to let you come,” Seth rasps, his hot breath rolling over my center. 

“Please, Seth. Please. Please. Please.” I repeat over and over again, not caring that I’m giving him what he wants. 

“Good girl,” Wes says behind me. “Come for us.”

I scream something completely incoherent, my legs trying to clamp shut around Seth’s head as he sucks my swollen clit into his mouth and flicks it relentlessly with his tongue. My release is so intense that it’s painful as I writhe and thrash against both men. Wes places gentle kisses against my neck and I whimper, struggling to come down from the most intense orgasm of my entire life. 

Seth eases off my clit, placing a kiss on the inside of my thigh and I sag against Wes. My feet are placed back on the ground and Wes gently eases my arms back over his head and down in front of me. I hiss through my teeth as the ropes rub against the raw skin of my wrists. Seth goes to work uniting me while Wes removes my blindfold. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the light in the room and then I focus on the tattooed man in front of me. Seth inspects my wrists with a furrowed brow and gentle fingers. 

“How bad are they?” Wes asks over my shoulder. 

“Not too bad. I don’t think they need to be wrapped. We can just put some ointment on them when we’re done and they should be fine,” Seth replies. 

“We’re not done?” I ask breathily. 

“Not quite, B. You okay?” Wes kisses my shoulder and something pulls in my chest. They are being so sweet compared to only moments ago. It’s disarming, and if I know one thing for certain, I cannot get lost in these men. We’re enemies. It doesn’t matter that Wes and I have a history. He has betrayed me in the worst way possible and while I owe my father no loyalty, I owe Damien everything. I won’t let him go down for father’s crimes. 

“Yes. I’m okay,” I answer with all the confidence I can muster. 

“Good girl.” 

He kisses my shoulder again and then Seth stands up in front of me, brushing some sweat-soaked hair back from my face. His fingers don’t linger; instead, he reaches over his head, gripping the back of his shirt and ripping it over his head in one fluid motion. My mouth goes dry as I take in the expanse of his chest and abdomen. He’s beautiful. Dark tattoos crawl across taught skin and chiseled muscles ripple hypnotically as he swiftly unbuckles and shucks off his pants. 

I don’t have any time to appreciate the rest of him as I’m quickly spun around in Wes’s arms and swiftly thrown over his shoulder. Air whooshes out of me when his shoulder digs into my stomach and my head swims with the sudden movement. Almost as quickly, I’m being thrown onto the bed and Wes is coming down on top of me. His mouth lands on mine and he kisses me with more passion than he ever has. His tongue plunges into my mouth and I suck on it, wringing a deep moan from his chest. I wrap my legs around his trim waist and he grinds into me. The friction created by his pants against my extra-sensitive core causes me to gasp. I arch up into him and his hand finds my breast, pinching and plucking at the tightened peak.

“Insatiable,” he growls into my mouth. I cry out when his teeth sink into my bottom lip, ripping into the small cut already there. The metallic tang floods over my tongue and Wes laps at it with his own, groaning with satisfaction. 

His erection is hard and hot, rubbing against me through his pants. I need him. I need him in me now. But before I can reach for his zipper, he pulls away and cool air rushes in. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Beckett. Isn’t she, brother?” his heated eyes scan down my body, causing my skin to flush. I know that he can see all of me. 

“She’s incredible.” Seth’s voice draws my attention as he comes around his brother and into my line of vision. My eyes instantly drop to his cock. I always thought Wes was gifted in that department, but Seth is in a category all on his own. 

My mouth drops open as I come up onto my elbows. I briefly wonder how that thing would fit in any orifice of my body. I shouldn’t be surprised. Seth is pretty massive and if his dick had been anything other than I think I would have been disappointed. Insatiable indeed. 

Seth’s dark chuckle pulls me out of my thoughts and I realize that I’ve been staring at him for an inappropriate and indecent amount of time. My eyes snap to his, then to Wes’s, and then back again. Ever so slowly, Wes begins stripping out of his clothes and I focus on him while Seth climbs on the bed and starts prowling toward me. I’ve never felt so intimidated in my entire life. I focus on Wes, watching each of his movements and Seth comes to my side. His large hands grab my shoulders and help me to sit up and come to my knees as he takes up the space behind me. A shiver dances down my spine when he presses his naked body up against me, his cock nestled between my ass cheeks. 

I keep my eyes fixed on Wes and his smug smirk while his brother’s hands reach around me and grab both of my breasts. I want to look down and see his tattooed fingers rolling my nipples, but I don’t. Wes removes his shirt and blood rushes in my ears as my breaths come quick and hard. Seth sucks one of my earlobes into his mouth and I gasp, his hips softly grinding against my ass. He’s so hot at my back. Lifting an arm, I reach behind my head and fist his soft, red hair, holding him to me while I watch Wes’s little strip tease. His pants are the next thing to go and then he’s standing in only his briefs. A small pang hits me in the chest. I’ve missed him. I might hate him right now, but for months I thought that he was being held hostage and tortured by Black Skull. I’ve missed him. And the whole time he was alive and well—betraying me. 

I shake the thought out of my head. That’s something I’ll deal with later. Right now, I just want to enjoy this. Whatever this is. 

“I want to see her. Show me,” Wes commands from the foot of the bed. 

Seth sits back, taking me with him until I’m sitting on his lap. He reaches down, gripping the inside of my thighs and pulling my legs apart to rest on either side of his. My chest heaves and I keep my eyes on Wes as those large hands slide up my legs feather-light before reaching the junction of my thighs. A thick finger slides through my wet heat before parting my folds and holding me open, exposing me indecently to Wes’s wicked gaze. I moan and push back into Seth, clenching my muscles against the instinctual urge to cover myself. 

“Stunning,” Wes murmurs, his stare burning into my flesh. “And so wet for us.” 

My eyelids flutter and I realize that I’m rocking rhythmically on Seth’s cock. Or maybe he’s rocking into me, I can’t be sure at this point. 

In a blink, Wes’s briefs disappear and he’s climbing up on the bed in front of me. I watch as he prowls toward me on all fours, his muscles bunching and shifting under his skin. His eyes never leave mine as his head lowers and his hot breath hits my cunt before his lips latch onto my clit. 

“Wes,” I cry out. My legs shake and I try to close them against the intensity of the pleasure that zips through my system, but Seth holds me steady. “Oh god.”

“Are we your gods? Are you going to pray to us?” Seth whispers in my ear. I have a feeling he’s watching over my shoulder as his brother licks me from entrance to clit in slow sweeps. 

“Yes.” I don’t know whether I’m answering his question, or simply exclaiming my pleasure. 

Another orgasm begins building in me too fast, but Wes is acutely aware of every sign that my body exhibits, knowing me better than anyone has before. I hate it. He pulls away and I whimper, still rocking into Seth, his cock wedged between my cheeks. 

Sitting back on his heels, Wes takes my chin between his fingers, his blue eyes bouncing between mine. 

“Can you take us both, B?” His eyes glitter and I know he’s issuing a challenge. D’Angelos don’t back down from a challenge. 

I nod against his hold, feeling Seth smile against my neck. One finger circles my clit in soft circles designed to arouse without taking me over the edge. 

“Yes. Please. Please,” I beg shamelessly. My body is a flame of sensation and I need it to stop. I need them. 

Seth’s hand keeps working at my core while his mouth sucks and nips my neck. Wes dives in, taking my mouth in another punishing kiss. One of his hands travels to my breast, fingers flicking over my nipple. I moan as they work me up, my core clenching on nothing but air. Seth lifts me off of his lap and pushes me at Wes who pulls me into him, his dick brushing my opening as his hands squeeze my hips, keeping me from sinking down on him. 

Seth moves around behind me and I hear drawers opening and closing. I don’t get to focus on what he might be doing because Wes lays back, pulling me down on top of him. My legs straddle him and he kisses me slowly, almost lazily, as the head of his cock slips into me. It’s not enough. I try to slip further down but he holds me still with a shake of his head. 

“Not yet,” he says against my lips, gently rocking his hips into me, pushing in a little more each time. It seems the torture is to continue. 

“Got it,” Seth says from behind me. I’m about to turn my head and see what it is that he got, but I’m suddenly pulled up by my hair. My back smacks against Seth’s chest and Wes seems perfectly content to continue his torture from underneath me as his brother manhandles me. 

“You are so very impatient, precious,” Seth murmurs. “If you’re going to take us both, you need to be nice and relaxed. So, you’re going to ride my brother’s cock until you come and then I’m going to take your ass while he fills your cunt. Understand?” 

I nod vigorously, but the hand he has in my hair tightens, pulling painfully on my scalp. It only seems to make me burn hotter, my arousal dripping down Wes’s cock. 

“Use your words, Beckett,” he purrs, licking the shell of my ear and trailing the fingers of his free hand down the plane of my stomach.

“I understand,” I gasp when a sharp slap lands to my clit. 

“Such a good little slut,” Wes says, his hands loosening on my hips. I slip down onto his shaft, stretching around him as he fills me inch by inch until our hips meet. 

A breathy moan leaves me and my head falls back against Seth’s shoulder, his fist still twisted tightly in my hair. Wes takes over stroking my clit and I moan his name as my eyes fall closed.

“Ride him.” Seth’s hot breath coasts over my cheek.

My hips begin to move. Euphoria washes over me as I become lost to my own movements and the feel of having Wes under me, filling me. I’m vaguely aware of Seth letting go of my hair. He pushes me forward or maybe I drifted there on my own. I plant my hand on Wes’s chest, my pace increasing as release builds in my spine. I chase after it—

Something cold drips down my ass crack causing me to tense and still. Whipping my head around, I see the bottle of lube before Seth tosses it to the side. He looks up from my ass long enough to smirk at me before grabbing my hair again and forcing my face back to his brother, pushing me to him for a kiss. 

“You’re supposed to be riding. Focus, Beckett.” I can hear the smile in his voice and I urge my body to begin moving again. 

Seth is unnervingly gentle as he pulls my cheeks apart and one of his fingers finds the ring of my ass. He massages the lube into the sensitive skin and I start to tense again. It’s not that I haven’t done it before. It’s more about the fact that he is absolutely humongous and likely to split me in two. 

“Relax, B,” Wes says, no doubt feeling the stiffness in my body. Air whooshes out of my lungs and Seth’s finger slips in. My breath catches and I clench around Wes making him groan. 

“Fuck,” I breathe, rocking harder on Wes while Seth pumps his finger, keeping up with my pace. 

“She’s so tight, man,” Seth says to Wes over my shoulder, one hand massaging my ass cheek as he works in another finger, stretching me. 

Tingles prick my entire body and my core tenses, release barreling toward me. 

“Come for us, Beckett.” Wes seals his lips over mine, catching my deep moan of pleasure as orgasm claims me. Tremors wrack my body and I hear Seth cursing behind me, continuing to pump his fingers though I have stilled, unable to move fluidly as the pleasure comes in waves.

I feel like I’m floating above my body and I have no idea how I’m going to be able to do it again. 

“I think she’s ready.” Seth’s hand slides up my spine, pushing me down a little further and slowly withdrawing his fingers. The loss of him is more shocking than I had expected, but then the head of his cock is teasing at my back entrance. 

“Breathe,” Wes whispers against my lips. His blue eyes look into mine, holding me captive in their blue depths. How ironic. 

When I let out a shaky breath, Seth pushes his way in a couple of inches. There is an intense burning that steals my breath, but I force myself to relax, breathing through the sensation. 

“Good girl,” Wes praises, rubbing his nose against mine. 

In another breath, Seth bottoms out and all three of us let out a collective groan. I have never felt so full in my entire life.

“Holy fuck,” Seth groans again behind me. “I wish you could see this from my point of view,” he says to Wes. 

“Feeling it is good enough for me. For now anyway,” Wes replies. 

They don’t move for what seems like a small eternity, giving me time to adjust. It’s pointless because I don’t know how anyone could ever adjust to these two men at once. I’m unsure of how I’m going to move, but I’m saved from having to figure it out because they start moving. Starting slowly, they move me back and forth between them. I move down Wes’s shaft and then back on to Seth, alternating between them. 

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh god.” I pant with what little breath I have in me. 

Seconds is all it takes for us to go from a slow, sedate pace to a frenzied pile of bodies. I only thought that I couldn’t possibly come again, when I feel myself tightening around them again. Seth fists my hair, pulling my head back while he pounds into me. 

“I wanna hear her scream,” he growls, tightening his hold. 

“You heard him, baby. Scream,” Wes commands, thrusting up into me, hard. 

I’m lost. Lost to them. Lost to the pleasure that explodes from me. I scream a garbled mix of their names, curses, and gibberish, my muscles convulsing uncontrollably. They keep up their pace, drawing out my orgasm before inevitably falling over the edge with me. They come with grunts and groans of their own, but everything is muffled by the ringing in my ears. 

I collapse on Wes’s chest, his hands stroking up and down my back. The hand in my hair disappears and then I whimper when Seth slowly pulls out of me. The loss is almost painful. Wes is next, pulling out of me and easing us on to our sides. Three collective releases seep from me making everything sticky, but I don’t have the energy to care. My eyelids are too heavy to keep open as I lay in Wes’s arms. Seth comes to lay behind me, brushing hair off the side of my face. Sleep beckons to me and I start to drift off, hearing one terrifying sentence in the void.

“You’re so fucking ours, B.” 

***

The boys let me nap for a little over an hour before waking me. Wes put me in the shower, getting in behind me. He helped me wash and I didn’t try to talk to him about anything despite all of the questions in my head. He allowed it, watching me with careful eyes. When we were finished, Seth dressed me before inspecting the raw skin of my wrists and applying some protective cream. Together, they tucked me into bed, climbing in on either side of me to sleep. Seth had said that he didn’t live here, so the thought that he is staying for me makes me uneasy. Everything about Wes’s presence makes me even more so. 

Long after their breaths become deep and even with sleep, I remain awake. I stare into the darkness of the room with Wes’s arm draped over my waist and one of Seth’s legs wedged in between mine. I lay there, tangled with two men that are essentially holding me hostage. I think about my brother. I think about a lot of things. Blood isn’t always most important in the D’Angelo family. But I guess it’s important to me. I won’t let Wes use me to get what he wants. I won’t be the thing that puts Damien in a position to choose. 

There in the darkness, nestled between my greatest enemies, I make a decision. I’m going to get out of here. I’ll use whatever weapon I have to to achieve that goal. These men are going to rue the day they ever decided to climb into my bed. 

If they live that long …

Thanks for reading!

 

If you’ve been following me for awhile, you know that I love a good cliffhanger! All of the short stoies in this section of the blog will contain cliffhangers because I am entertaining the idea of making them into novels one day or just continuing the stories in more of a serialized fiction situation

In any case, please leave a comment on this post and let me know if you like this format and type of post!