Page 112 of The Fishermen


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He closed his laptop, a thin smile on his thin lips. I didn’t give a damn about his annoyance. “Look, I don’t know if you’re bored or—”

“Or,” I said. “If bored is my only other option, then what I am definitely falls under the category ofor.”

I mentally ran down a list of what could’ve slipped from his mouth after the wordor.

Or if you want him…

Or if he’s yours…

Or if you don’t want to see him with anyone else…

I could’ve gone on for days.Yeah, definitely an or. A fucking capital OR.

“Maybe he’s open to trying something new,” Lucas said, a fire lighting behind his gray eyes. He made pushing all his buttons too easy. “Maybe he just needs to find the right person.”

“And you’re the right person?”

“Maybe.”

“You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, Lucas. Franklin Kincaid is not riding anyone’s cock. That’s one hole of his that a dick won’t see any action in,” I said breezily, examining my nails.

“Maybe I’ll be the one to compromise.”

“And what do you know about taking a cock? About breathing through the stretch, grinding your teeth against the burn, all while bearing down and telling yourself you were built to take all of him.”

“Him?” he asked, as if he’d caught me.

“Generally speaking.” I fluttered my one good hand.

“Sex isn’t all about penetration,” he said. “You’re still young. I wouldn’t expect you to understand that.”

At this stage in the game it wasn’t even about Franky anymore. At least not for Lucas. Now it was about riling me up in return, taking some of his power back. I laughed dryly. “Oh, he’ll definitely want to penetrate you. Over and over and over again. And I hope you like pain with your pleasure, because whether or not it’s his hand crushing your windpipe as he uses your hole as a cum dumpster, or his teeth at your jugular, or his nails scraping along your beard-burned skin, you won’t walk away from the fucking looking the same way you did when you marched into it.”

“And how do you know all of this, ‘son’s best friend’?” he parroted with a hint of mockery.

“As the son’s best friend, I’ve seen and heard all sorts of things throughout the years,” I said nonchalantly.

“I bet you have,” he said.

“Sorry I took so long,” Franky said to Lucas, but his long gait ate up the distance to me. “Is Cole still coming to pick you up?” he asked.

“No, I texted him not to after you headed upstairs to shower.”

“I thought you wanted to lay eyes on The Daisy?”

“I’m much more interested in the business of furniture tonight,” I said as Lucas assessed our exchange.

“Alright,” Franky said. “Hungry? Thirsty?”

“I’m good for now, but maybe after your meeting you can feed me before bathing me.”

Franky gazed down on me in displeasure. All week I hadn’t let him do either of those things without a fuss, and now I was offering him my obedience. “Be nice,” he murmured for my ears only.

“Too late,” I whispered back. “I’ll be right inside where I can heareverything,” I said for Lucas to hear, rolling away from them with an unhidden smirk.

I ended up feeding myself, to Franky’s disapproval, but there was no getting around my needing help in the shower.

“Did I ruin your deal with Lucas?” I asked as he soaped up my feet.

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