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He watches me for a long moment, his dark black eyes as cunning as a snake. Then he glances at Isabelle once more.
“Show me.” Pablo commands. “Show me how hot she is for you.”
What?Is he joking?
I’m not fucking her in front of everyone.
“Not my kink. Come on—”
“You want her. Show me,” he repeats coldly and nods at Jose again, who walks to Isabelle and rips open her dress.
Motherfucker.
She cries as her breasts spill out and Miguel binds her arms behind her back.
Bile rises in my throat as I calculate my bullets and how quickly I can shoot each and every one of them.
“Help me,” she cries, horror on her face.
My calculation complete, and because we’re not in a Hollywood movie, it would indicate I’d be dead.
So, I have to go along with this.
For now.
“Nice perk titties. But I want to see her cunt. If she’s as hot for you as you say,amigo, then I want to see her creamy juices.” Pablo says, leaning forward an inch like he’s watching a porno. Then waves out his hand.
“No, you can’t. Stop,” Isabelle cries.
I check my calculations because there’s no fucking way I am letting anyone touch her. Six bullets—two for the soldiers on the perimeter, one for Jose, one for Diego, one for Miguel, and lastly, one for Pablo. Leaving me zero once I walk out the door to face an army.
My eyes lock with his as Jose rips the rest of her dress completely open so it hangs down the side of her body.
“Dex, help me.” Isabelle whimpers.
I ignore her as Pablo licks his lips. Then my head swings around as Jose tugs her panties down.
Is this what happened to Chloe?
Fury bubbles with me like a volcano ready to explode. Those blue eyes so like my best friend. And the same ones filled with desire just moments before as my fingers filled her.
Mine.
Isabelle was mine to touch, mine to pleasure, and I suddenly know I’ll die to ensure no man in this room does.
Her sobs reach inside my chest, and I begin to reach for my Glock.
“Spread her legs. Show me how wet she is,” Pablo says.
I whip my head back and he’s smirking, knowing he’s testing me.
Asshole.
Isabelle is petrified. She won’t be wet. He knows one of us will need to touch her to make that happen.
She will hate me forever for this, and the weight of that is heavy on my chest as I lower to the ground and place my hand on her knees.
“Please don’t do this,” she whimpers.
