Page 66 of Whiteout

“You’ve lost your fucking mind.”

Maniacal laughter came through the phone.

“Hardly. We’re finally going to get what’s coming to us, cousin. Everything that, rightfully, should have been ours all along.” After a long pause, Derek asked with a snicker, “Tell me, have you fucked her yet?”

He answered with silence.

“You forget how well I know you, cousin.” Hearing his devious-sounding chuckle, Ian had no trouble picturing the shit-eating grin on his face. “It’s all right, you know I don’t mind sharing.”

Oh, I know you don’t…

And he knew it all too well.

In the early days of Derek’s relationship with Miranda, Ian was often invited to join them in their bed, and what twenty-three-year-old guy would say no to that? Sometimes there’d be another girl there, too. His cousin would direct their sordid scenes, commanding the woman to eat out his girlfriend’s cunt, or fist her, while they enjoyed the show, and took turns fucking them both afterward. Derek got off having power over her, and Miranda handed it over to him. But then, she’d do anything he asked if it meant getting a ring on her finger.

…but know this, asshole, I do mind. You’re not touching her.

“I’ll be back on Friday. Now, it doesn’t matter to me how you do it, just get her to sign.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Pussy’s that good, eh?”

Once again, Ian refused to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

“Well, if you don’t, then by any means necessary, I will.”

Breanna wasn’t waiting in the kitchen when he finished hauling the red plastic totes upstairs. Neither was anyone else. The living room sat empty. So did the sitting room, the morning room, the billiards room, the library, and every other fucking room on this level of the house.

Gazing up at the black antlers suspended from the ceiling, he shook his head and climbed the stairs. For Breanna to survive his cousin, and for him to have a snowball’s chance in hell of keeping her, Ian knew he’d have to tell her everything, and sooner rather than later. Because there wasn’t all that much time left.

He knew the key code to her door but knocked anyway.

She opened it, and without a word, her fingers threaded in his hair, hands cradling his face, as she slipped that sweet tongue inside. And it was everything. Breanna took what she wanted and gave him what he needed. Willingly. Lovingly. Enthusiastically.

“Look, baby, I got all of you in me this time.”

Fuck, it had taken everything in him to keep from coming when she said that.

Breanna was what Ian had always longed for in a partner, but never hoped to find.

He felt this gravitational pull to her the instant he saw her. She did, too. One look inside those blue, fairytale eyes of hers told him that.

With a rush of blood flooding toward his groin, Ian grabbed the back of her thighs and wrapped her legs around him. He shouldn’t be thinking about fucking her right now when hell was closing in on them. But with his appetite for her insatiable, his veins filled, pulsating with blood, like snakes slithering beneath the skin that stretched taut around his dick.

“Does my princess need another fucking?”

“Is that bad?” Biting her lip, Breanna glanced up at him and grinned.

“Never.” Sliding his hand inside her jeans, Ian’s fingers sought her warm, wet pussy. She hissed. “Are you sore?”

“A little.”

“A soak in the hot tub will fix that.” Dropping his forehead to hers, he smiled.

“That sounds heavenly, except it’s thirty degrees outside.”

Trust me, you won’t even notice.

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