Page 7 of Unholy Night

I sucked in a sharp breath. Everyone always assumed my life was perfect. That the famous Easton Radleigh always got her way. “Who says I don’t?” I snapped.

Zander leaned in closer, his muscled arm gripping the back of my chair. “Bullshit… some asshole broke your heart. That’s what you’re running away from, isn’t it?”

I could feel my cheeks flame as I scooted away from him. “Oh, you think you have me all figured out, don’t you? Why I’m here is none of your business. Why are you fucking here?”

At that he tensed and backed up. “I’m just a humble innkeeper.”

It was my turn to laugh. I looked him up and down. “Right. How about you go check on my drink then? I hope he didn’t have to go to Scotland to get it.” I was being extra bitchy, but my stomach was grumbling, my head pounded with a splitting headache, and I hadn’t been fucked properly in three months.

Zander’s lip twitched, a feral look glazing his eyes as he looked at me. “One of these days someone is going to make you shut that feisty mouth of yours,” he rasped.

Fuck. Sweat beaded between my thighs. At least I hoped it was sweat. I was playing with fire now. But I just couldn’t stop myself. I stood up and walked into his space. “Yeah? And do you think that’s going to be you, big man? You going to shut me up?” My heart was racing.

He looked down at me and smiled. “Well, it’ll be kind of hard to talk with my cock in—”

“Whoa!” Roman yelled. “Zander, bro, chill.”

Vance snickered as he set a glass and a bottle of whiskey down on my table. “I always miss the good shit.”

My breath hitched as I glared at Zander, refusing to back down or give in. “I’m going to give you the worst review on Yelp.”

He smirked and backed away. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say. I’m just messing around.”

“Let’s all give Miss Radleigh some space, guys.” He poured me some whiskey from the bottle. “You’ll have to excuse my partners; they haven’t been around a classy woman like yourself for some time.”

As they left the room, I rolled my eyes at their backs. But despite his raunchiness, I was strangely turned on by Zander. By all of them actually. Ugh. Well, that can’t be good. I couldn’t really have all four of them.

I could see the headline now: Esteemed romance author, Easton Radleigh turns into a massive slut over the weekend. Christmas came and so did she.

Fuck, the sad part was it would actually be less embarrassing than the story the papers have currently been running about me. They just love reminding me of how I got dumped for the third time this year.

I swallowed down two shots of whiskey in a matter of minutes as I gazed out the frosted window. There was nothing but darkness as far as the eye could see. The paparazzi would never find me here. It was the only silver lining in this disaster of a trip.

Zander

What a fucking mouth that one had on her. Fuck. The balls. If she only knew who the fuck we really were, she’d be pissing in her pants. I meant what I said. Easton Radleigh would be much better off with my cock in her mouth. Fuck. I was rock hard just thinking about it.

“Quit pouting, Z. She’s just a spoiled brat who’s used to people waiting on her without blinking.” Roman motioned for me to keep chopping.

I had zoned out over a half-diced onion, completely dumbstruck over that beautiful headcase in the dining room. “What are we even doing, Rom? We’re not fucking innkeepers, or cooks for that matter. I don’t think I can deal with her attitude all weekend.”

Vance propped himself up on the center island, not lifting a finger as usual. “Z’s right. We’re on a fucking job, Rom. There’s a man tied up in the basement. And you got us running around here like we’re on some HGTV show. I say we throw her down there with that asshole downstairs.”

Penn wiped the sweat off his brow with his free arm as he stirred a big pot of tomato sauce. “Fuck that, Vance. You know we don’t hurt women. Not gonna happen.”

Vance’s eyes lit up. “Hurt her? Nah, I’m talking about making her cum so fucking hard she’ll be saying please and thank you by morning. Guaranteed she looks hot as hell in handcuffs.”

He had a point. “That chick is a monster. Maybe getting tied up and gagged would teach her some fucking manners.” Fuck, she was really getting under my skin.

“I bet she’d like it too. All that pent up aggression… fuck,” Penn rasped as he readjusted his cock.

Rom gripped the edge of the counter. “Enough. Easton Radleigh is as cold as ice. There’s no point in even fucking talking about it. Just stick to the plan and we’ll all be sipping margaritas in Cabo by Monday.”

We all nodded in agreement while continuing to make Easton a halfway decent bowl of pasta. When you live life on the run, never stopping too long in one place, you became really good at eating out. None of us had ever cooked for ourselves, let alone a woman. But Rom and Penn had watched enough food shows to have an idea.

After dicing up an onion and two cloves of garlic, I handed Penn the cutting board for him to dump it all in the sauce. A bottle of red wine caught my eye in the pantry. That was one thing I did know for sure, red wine and marinara sauce paired well together. Fuck knows I’ve had my share of both. I opened the bottle and poured each of us a glass.

Vance smirked. “Remember that time we drank three bottles of wine and ate an entire six-course Italian dinner with that fucker strung up in the warehouse?”

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