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“That’s what I thought,” he murmurs. “Tomorrow, at Church, you four can fill me in on everything. Right now, my old ass needs sleep.”

Koyn and Filter disappear back into the house. Nees, who’s apparently off the hook, saunters to the clubhouse, leaving me with Katana and his psycho bestie.

“I’m going to get my good knives,” Dragon calls out. “K, make sure Baby Prospect gets the weasel to the slaughterhouse without letting him escape.”

Katana gives Dragon a nod. It takes everything in me to cool my temper. I know he’s just goading me. Like a dog with a bone, he sniffs out weakness. My weakness is I hate being treated like a child.

Max Corsetti whimpers as Katana hauls him out of the truck and tosses him to the ground. His hands are bound, as are his feet, and rope connects the two. Katana squats next to Max and cuts through the rope around his feet. Together, we pull the guy to a standing position and drag him across the property to the slaughterhouse.

Once inside, we toss Max on a filthy mattress. Max doesn’t even try to get up. When my phone buzzes, I turn from him to dig in my jeans to find it.

Nick: I miss you.

My irritation swells as I reread his text about ten times before I let it sink in. He’s serious. He’s totally fucking serious.

Me: You just miss my mouth. What does the wife think of me choking on your cock?

Nick: She doesn’t have to know.

Me: Go to hell.

Nick: That makes me sound like an asshole. I haven’t left her yet, but I want you. Not just your pretty mouth either. I need to touch you.

Me: You lost that privilege.

Nick: God, please, Cove. I need you so fucking badly. I can’t get the idea out of my mind of me fucking you. Maybe this is the final step.

Me: Step to what???

Nick: Us.

Me: There is NO us. We sucked each other off. That’s it. Fuck off.

Nick: Because I wouldn’t let there be an us. I want it. I want to try.

I gnaw on my bottom lip, glaring at his texts. Does it make me pathetic that I’m almost inclined to tell him to meet me in our spot? I’m desperate to relieve all this tension burning like fire in my veins. Nick may be an asshole, but he’s gifted with his mouth. I could use him like he’s so clearly used me all this time.

Footsteps crunch across loose gravel and Dragon’s familiar scent floods all around me like a fog. The heat of his body burns into my back. I stiffen, my fingers frozen on my screen when the tip of a knife taps the glass of my phone.

“Is he becoming a problem? I’m great at dealing with problems.”

Whirling on him, I give him a shove against his solid chest. My mind dances with the memory of his sculpted chest colored in tattoos. Dragon, despite being a psycho-prick, is so goddamn hot. The devious smirk on his face says he knows it too.

“Stay the fuck away from me,” I snap, shoving my phone into my pocket.

“Or what?” Dragon taunts. “You send your boyfriend after me?”

The crazed glint in his eyes indicates he’d love that a little too much.

“Go to hell.”

“Been there, Baby Prospect. Remember? We were there together.”

Dragon

The bitchier he gets, the more alive I feel. Like his attitude problem is an injection in my vein—hot, electric, intoxicating. I want to get drunk off his anger and taste the rudeness on his tongue.

“We need information,” Katana says, his voice cutting through my addicted haze.

I step closer to Cove until I’m towering over him and he has to tilt his head back to see me. Grabbing hold of his jaw in my grip, I forcefully turn his head to the side so I have access to his ear. He sucks in a sharp gasp when my lips brush over the shell of his ear.

“I’m coming for you tonight.” I nip at his earlobe. “Be ready.”

He squirms out of my hold and I let him go. My dick is hard as fuck in my jeans. It’s such a confusing sensation—to be turned on and not feel ashamed by it. Instead, it’s invigorating. I crave more of his touch and scent and taste.

His face is bright red and he won’t meet my gaze. I rake my stare over his body, noting the state of his cock as well. Hard. Aching. Desperate for release.

The feeling is mutual, Baby Prospect.

Satisfied by his response, I saunter over to where Katana waits, eyes narrowed on me. I’m behaving erratically—well, erratic for me—so I know he’s worried. But, for the first time in a long time, I feel somewhat normal. Human.

“Cut him loose,” I tell Katana.

Max Corsetti stiffens. I’m sure he’s planning his escape. The fucker isn’t going anywhere. It’s just more fun when they try to run away.

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