Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“Win…”
“Heart eyes,” I complain. “It’s not a cute look.”
“You love it.” Her triumphant grin only goes wider when I don’t argue.
Tomorrow I can go back to being Winston fucking Constantine. Tonight, I like just being hers. This man. Simple and available and protective. And, with my fingers, wet with my come, now teasing at her asshole because we aren’t us unless we’re getting a little nasty.
I’m already fantasizing about fucking her ass but my phone starts ringing from my pile of clothes on the floor. Since I’m waiting to find out when my meeting is tonight, I’ll need to answer it. I pull my fingers away from her pussy and put them to her lips. With her hot eyes burning into mine, she sucks off the come like the dirty girl she is.
Goddamn, I will never get tired of this.
Chump.
I pull away from her, focused on finding out who’s calling me. The unknown number has me frowning, but I answer it anyway.
“Constantine.”
“Fucking the whore in the whore apartment. That’s what you two call it, right? How cute,” the voice snarls on the other line. “You can’t keep an eye on her forever. Tonight was proof.”
My blood runs cold. “Don’t call me again, you little shit.”
Scout Mannford. I should have known it wouldn’t be the last I’d hear of the fucklets.
“What you did…” He sucks in a sharp, furious breath. “I’ll make you pay, motherfucker. I’ll hurt you like you hurt me and my brothers.” His laughter is cruel. “I’ll start with my bitch of a stepsister. Tell her next time I won’t hesitate to fuck her. Maybe we’ll have a sex scandal of our own.”
“Touch her and it’ll be the last thing you do,” I warn, malevolence tinting my every word.
“Oh, I’ll touch her. You can’t protect her forever. Maybe I’ll sneak into your condo next time you’re running away for business. I’ll slit her pretty little throat after I fuck her raw. Have fun explaining why there’s a dead prostitute in your bed.”
That image of Scout hurting Ash and then carving her up like a pumpkin will give me fucking nightmares. Turning the hatred back on him, I hiss, “Can you do all that from a wheelchair?” A deadly pause. “Didn’t think so. Bye, brat.”
The line goes dead.
“Who was it?” Ash demands, hair messy and eyes wild with worry.
She knows. Of course she knows. And based on the horrified expression on her face, she’s more terrified of her stepbrothers than the lawless Morellis.
“Pack your shit and your bird. You’re going home.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ash
Home?
I’m shaking my head as panic threatens to consume me. Dad won’t speak to me and Manda hates me. The triplets. A shudder ripples through me. I can’t go home. Not ever again.
“I can’t,” I croak out. “Please, Win, don’t make me go back to them.”
He’s in the middle of zipping up his pants when my words finally register in his brain. Without a shirt on and the fiery expression on his face, he looks like some vengeful angel—beautiful and golden and perfect.
“My home, Cinderelliott. I’ll be damned if that sick sonofabitch or his two clones comes within fifty feet of you.”
Home. His home.
I crawl across the bed, his come still running from my body, and reach for him. He steps toward me, letting me wrap my arms around his neck.
“That was Scout? What did he want?”
His body is tense and thrumming with pent-up violence. “Something he will never have.”
The unspoken word is you. Terror at the thought of Scout getting me alone again is chased away by Win’s protectiveness that’s clouding around me. He wants to take me home. Me and our bird.
“Let me shower and then we can go.”
I race through my shower trying to gain control over the swelling panic. I’d stupidly thought the triplets were no longer a threat. They’re vindictive and evil. Now that everything has been stripped from them, they’ll do everything in their power to pay Winston back for what he did. And that means me. Will I ever be free of those monsters?
By the time I dress and leave the bathroom, Winston is in boardroom boss mode, barking out orders to someone over the phone. It would be intimidating if it weren’t for the pink bird sitting on his shoulder, hunting for bugs in his hair. Every so often, Winston reaches up to stroke Shrimp on the top of his head. I fight a grin as I pack up my clothes and toiletries.
He eventually hangs up on the person he’s talking to and carefully deposits our bird into his cage. Once Shrimp is secure inside, Winston prowls over to me. He snags my jaw in his punishing grip and presses a searing kiss against my lips. It’s times like this I’m reminded why I put up with all the shit when it comes to Win. Because there’s so much potential for us being something strong and unstoppable.