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She shook her head then and said, “I don’t want easy. I want you to love me like you might not have another opportunity. I want you to fuck me—hard, wild, and without a conscience. That’s what I need. Use me. Fuck me. I promise I won’t break.”
Dallas peered over her shoulder, perhaps looking to Zak for permission. Regardless of how much he felt like Drina would soon belong to him as much as she belonged to Zak, the fact remained. She was Zak’s woman. She wore his collar and had agreed to be his submissive, maybe even his slave.
How much of the lifestyle she understood was yet to be determined, but for now, she was his as much as she was Zak’s. One nod from Zak told him al
l he needed to know. They came together and rocked into her with hard, pounding beats, fucking her with enthusiasm, and screaming out her name as if she belonged to one and the same.
Chapter Ten
“So I hear you belong to Scott McDowell.” Hales had actually heard that she belonged to all the McDowells, but he wasn’t about to mention the fact. He’d bring it up eventually. For now, he wanted to take things slow. Gemma had clearly had a rough night and now they were forced to listen to the headboard banging against the wall behind them.
It wasn’t exactly an ideal situation, particularly since the woman getting fucked had originally been slated for him as much as Dallas. Sometimes fate showed her pretty little hand at just the right time. Who knew fate had such a hot sister waiting in the shadows?
“And I hear you were supposed to be in there with Drina,” Gemma said, nodding her head at the bedroom door.
“Who told you that?”
“Does it matter?” Gemma asked.
“Not really.” Hales watched her curiously, trying to figure out what she might have been thinking. Why was she the Baldini sister who seemed to have the most secrets, the most skeletons in her closet? What had she endured that the others hadn’t?
Before he could pry, she said, “So what time is this supposed to go down?”
“You were there. I heard midnight. Didn’t you?”
“Yes, but given the number of stops and starts behind the wall there, it doesn’t look like midnight is on the horizon for those three.”
“Want me to knock on the door and intervene?”
“Do you need to knock on the door and intervene?” Gemma stood and went to the bar. “If I know my cousin Kane, he’ll come back when there’s trouble. He can always spot the danger. Ask him.” She opened one cabinet and then another. “He’ll tell you.”
“Why do you drink so much?” Hales hadn’t meant to meet that one head-on but since she’d located a bottle of rum and just turned it up and drank straight from the bottle, it wasn’t necessarily an unwarranted question.
“Why do you look at me like you want to fuck me?” She was either blunt as hell or still drunk and Hales was hoping she was always just that forthcoming. He loved a woman who could tell a man what she wanted.
Glancing at the door, he wondered when Peyton might return. She and Kane had already said their good-byes a few times but then the fucking started behind the bedroom door and Peyton had casually excused herself by explaining that she would stand watch with Kane and let the others know when they heard anything.
Hales hoped they didn’t hear anything anytime soon.
“Well?” Gemma snapped her fingers. “Do you look at me like you want to fuck me or not?”
“Are you Scott McDowell’s woman or not?”
“I’m no man’s property.”
“What if I said I want to fuck you until you know you are?”
“Until I’m what?”
“A man’s property.”
She laughed as if she thought his statement was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.
“I’m serious.” He rose to his feet, determined to approach her slow, determined to take a first kiss if he had to grab that liquor bottle out of her hand and throw it against the blame wall.
Gemma turned up the bottle and took another swig. Her frosted-blonde hair fell in her face and she peered up at him from under those long bangs. “You couldn’t handle me, cowboy.”
“Want to place a bet on that?”
