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“Asshole,” I said under my breath.
“Let’s go.”
“What’s my room like?” I asked, clambering down the stairs. “Does my door lock from the outside too?”
“Course not.”
“Good.”
Cairo slipped his hand in mine, surprising me—in a good way.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I continued. “I made my choice.”
“So did I.”
The two of us entered the living room, walking in on Arsenio, Jacques, Legend, and the living room’s newest addition.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Your room, obviously.”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
Pushed into the corner between the couch and fireplace was a large red doghouse. And if there was any confusion, hanging above the circular entrance was a sign saying “Rain.”
“You can’t be serious,” I breathed.
“Where else would you sleep?” Legend asked. “Beds aren’t for pets, love.”
I got closer, eyeing the thing in disbelief. Maybe I should’ve been thankful they put in some effort to make it comfortable. A blue dog bed was stuffed inside and covered with a blanket.
Wait? I squinted. Is that...?
I reached in and pulled out a shiny pink collar.
“No. Fuck no!”
“You’re hurting my feelings, Rain.” Cairo’s wicked smirk said nothing of the sort. “I put a lot of effort into making this perfect for you.”
“Fuck you.” I flung the collar across the room.
“Ten,” said Jacques.
“Fuck you too!”
“Eleven.”
“You will sleep in your house like a good pet,” Cairo said. “Good girls get treats. Bad girls—” He tsked, shaking his head. “But you’re not going to be a bad girl, are you, Rain?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“The cell you picked out for us.” Arsenio’s deep voice dispersed through the room. “Wasn’t much bigger.”
I pressed my lips together, shaking.
“Better,” Jacques said.
I flipped him off.
“Twelve.”
“Take off my clothes,” Cairo said. “You have your own.”
“Where is my stuff? I want my laptop and phone too.”
Arsenio nodded at Legend. The raven-haired Adonis rounded the kitchen counter and returned loaded with shopping bags. “Hope you like them.” He winked. “We picked it out ourselves.”
“What is this?” I didn’t touch the bags. “I have clothes.”
“No, you don’t,” Cairo said. “I tossed out the farm-girl chic. I warned you about shit that reminds me of what kept us apart.”
“That was both disturbingly possessive and insane. They’re just clothes, Cairo. My clothes.” I squared him down, folding my arms. “I want them back.”
“I don’t think you do. I shredded them before they were deposited in the nearest dumpster.” He pointed. “You wear these, or you go naked. Never say we don’t empower you to make your own choices.”
My nails pierced my arms. It was incredible to me that I believed for a second there was a special connection between me and Cairo. With the other guys, I had no illusions that they just wanted to punish me. The only thing they knew about me was I nearly got them locked up as accessories to murder—although Roan seemed fond of me now.
With Cairo, I thought it was different. I said no to him. I challenged him. Fought him. I was tied to him by fate. He was supposed to want more from me than revenge.
“Don’t fall for it. Cairo Sharpe is many things, but a wounded bird is not one of them.”
“You tried to warn me.”
“What was that?” Legend asked.
“I said, what did you buy me?”
“Everything you need for all occasions.”
I took the clothes out of the bags one by one. They were looking for a reaction, so I refused to give them one. Despite wanting to throw up.
“These are all lingerie and club dresses,” I said evenly.
“School clothes.” Cairo held up a tight, slinky black, sleeveless dress. “Home clothes.” A purple lace bra hung off his finger. He tossed it at me. “Put it on.”
I tossed it back. “No. I’ll wear the dress.”
“Didn’t you hear me? The dress is for when we go out.” Cairo stroked my cheek. “Can’t have you looking less than perfect, pet. But now, we’re home, and these are your clothes.”
Glaring at the dental floss called sleepwear, I said, “I might as well be naked.”
“You can be.”
And they win either way.
I shifted to each of them. Roan too when he came in, bandaged from cheek to hip, and looking plenty proud of himself.
“Let me stay in this,” I said. No, I asked. Like the whimpering bitch they wanted me to be, I was asking for permission. “Don’t you like me in your clothes?”
I reached for Cairo and kneaded his temples. Firm, slow circles to bring him to me.
A strange sort of frozen expression crossed his face. He gave me a look like he didn’t know me and shot away.
“No.” He was angry. “I like you not wearing clothes at all, and that’s about to be your only fucking option. What’s it going to be, Rain? ’Cause my clothes are coming off if I’ve got to tear them off myself.”
There was no point in arguing with him. In full view of my pleased captors, I stripped off the shirt and sweats. Digging through the pile, I fished out the least revealing pair. A two-tone silk top with matching bikini bottom that covered a quarter of my ass cheeks.
