Page 78 of Their Tracked Obsession

The tips of the server’s black dress shoes barely touched the carpet. Sin’s mouth was inches from his face, and he stared into his eyes as if he’d kill him. One wrong move and Sin would strangle him.

“Don’t. Touch. My. Wife.” Sin spat out each word through clenched teeth.

The server struggled to breathe, and he gasped for air, but Sin wouldn’t let his lungs fill up. Not yet.

Saint ambled over. He slammed his hand down beside the server’s head against the wall. The asshole jumped and looked like he’d piss himself.

“You heard the man,” Saint whispered angrily in the attendant’s ear. “Keep your fucking hands away. She’s ours.”

The server’s eyes bulged out of his skull, and he thrashed. He turned blue, his body suffocating in front of me, and I touched my husband’s shoulders. Their tense bodies relaxed at my contact, and Sin let the guy’s shoes hit the floor.

The server took a deep breath. He coughed. Gagged on a small amount of air Sin let him take in as he stepped back and released his collar.

“Fuck!” the server choked out and rubbed his throat. “I’m sorry.”

The asshole fell to his knees on the carpet and hunched over like a child curled up awaiting a beating. Fearful of the men standing over him, but my husbands didn’t back down. Instead, they watched, waited, and hunted their prey.

Sin and Saint were fucking hot. All moody and in full-protective mode.

“Good.” Sin pressed the point of his shoe into his fingers.

“Ow!” the server cried out in agony.

“Stand up.” Sin lifted his shoe. “Give me our order and don’t you fucking dare think about my wife.”

“Don’t even look at her,” Saint added with a scowl and gripped the server’s chin. “Eyes on me, motherfucker.”

The attendant got up from the floor. He would’ve fallen if Saint wasn’t clenching his cheeks tightly until they puckered. Fear gripped the poor bastard. He should be afraid for being a scumbag who came to a fucking honeymoon suite only to flirt with a newlywed.

This idiot was incredibly comfortable ogling my chest. I didn’t doubt this was his first rodeo. He’d probably broke up fragile honeymooners over this. How dare he?

I was mad. Seething. Extremely happy when Saint pushed him out of our room and into the cart full of food.

“I’m waiting.” Sin stood in the doorway, tapped his shoe, and glanced down at his pretend wristwatch. “Anytime. Now.”

I glanced to the side in order to see the server stumble to his feet and scurry to the handle of his cart. He didn’t risk a glance at me. He hadn’t even plucked up the courage to look away from the food.

“Here’s your breakfast, sir,” he stammered with fright and handed Saint a wobbly tray.

The dishes stopped clanking when Saint grabbed the tray and took the food into our room. Sin tossed a bill onto the cart. The man wouldn’t cast a glance at him.

“Look. At. Me.” Sin demanded each word through clenched teeth, and the server gazed up in fear.

“Please,” the asshole stuttered.

“Come here.” Sin beckoned him with his finger.

The room service attendant slowly walked forward. Each step must’ve been agonizing. The sheer terror was all-consuming as his life flashed before his eyes at the hands of the monster he had uncaged. Chains couldn’t bind Sin. I wouldn’t want him any other way.

Saint laughed as he chewed on a piece of bacon. “This is getting good. Want some, Liv?”

Saint held up a crispy bacon strip.

I shook my head. “No, thanks. I’ll stick to coffee.”

I took the mug off the tray and raised it. “But I’m enjoying the show.”

“Me too.” Saint saluted me with the bacon. “Wonder if we’ll get this dumbass at dinner too?”