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Anger and jealousy weave themselves around the lust already present, and I begin to stroke myself even faster.
Punishing myself for getting off on this.
I come with a roar as Ellie screams her release on my phone screen. White, sticky cum wets my hand and naked stomach.
Fuck.
With a snarl, I stalk toward the bathroom, grab a washcloth, and work to clean myself off.
I try to temper down my feelings of intense jealousy the best I can. Maybe I’m a masochist, because every time I watch that video, I feel immense pain, as if someone is taking a knife to my heart and slicing it to ribbons. But even in agony, my cock still responds to the sight of Ellie naked and crying out her release.
I’m a sick, twisted bastard. I should give her up, stay away, refuse to play this game that sees her in a tug-of-war battle between five different men.
Yet I can’t let her go.
I hate the way we ended things the last time I saw her in person…and also the way we didn’t end things.
I regret our fight, but not what came after it.
And now that I know Ellie is ready to take things further…
Another growl leaves my lips, and I all but chuck the washcloth into the laundry basin.
Just because Ellie is willing to do things with Beckett, Dom, and Zane doesn’t mean she’ll do it with me. Maybe she doesn’t even want to.
Even as I think that, I remember how sweetly she responded to my kisses, her body limp and pliant, her eyes hooded with arousal.
What would’ve happened if Landon didn’t interrupt us?
My cock jerks to life again, seemingly having a mind of its own.
I move to sit on the window seat in my room and stare out at the rapidly pinkening sky. The stain of twilight is beginning to make its appearance known in swatches of light red, green, and orange. The floodlights are on, illuminating the gravel driveway.
And the unfamiliar car parked directly in front of the hotel’s entrance.
My eyebrows dip as I focus on the two figures standing at the hood of the nondescript vehicle, talking with Raymond. I can’t see their faces from this far away, but it appears to be a woman and a man.
Suspicion curdles in my gut, almost as if I drank a gallon of sour milk, and I squint at the two figures highlighted by the car’s headlights.
Who the fuck are they?
And why are they talking to Raymond?
So far, I’ve only seen Raymond’s usual men—like Teak—guarding the perimeter. And a few days ago, Landon arrived at the hotel with a few men who needed urgent medical attention.
But besides that, no one else.
And certainly not men and women dressed in sleek business suits.
On silent feet, I sneak out of the room and tiptoe down the hall. The elevator isn’t operational yet, so I take the stairs, hurrying down them as fast as I can while still being quiet.
When I reach the door that leads to the lobby, I pause there, straining my ears for any guards or even Raymond himself.
Silence.
I’ve mastered blending into the shadows over the years. If I don’t want someone to see me, they won’t. It’s a skill I’ve honed and refined.
I suppose it’s fitting that the proverbial ghost became a literal ghost.
