Page 111 of Lucky's Trouble

My brows lift. “You grow a pair I don’t know about? I’m pretty sure I’ve inspected the area closely enough that I’d notice.”

She laughs. “You definitely have.”

Her towel falls to the floor, and she settles under the covers next to me, but it’s not enough. I chop the blanket down between us as a barrier so she doesn’t think I’m wanting more than to be close and pull her into me. She lifts her head, and I snake my arm under it until I’m spooning her.

“Your boyfriend, huh?”

“It’s what you are, isn’t it?”

“Baby, I’ll be anything you allow me to be. Your boyfriend, your husband, your ol’ man.”

“Ew, that makes it sound like you want to be my dad.”

“Yeah, that didn’t come out how I meant it.” I chuckle.

“I know what you mean.”

“Good.” I kiss the top of her head. “Get some sleep. We have a long ride home tomorrow.”

“Home,” she says reverently.

“Our home.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

TINLEIGH

A hand wraps around my ankle, and I’m pulled from the mattress with a rough tug. The room is dark, so I can’t see who the shadowy figure standing in front of me is. I scream, grasping for Lucky, but he’s not there.

“Quiet, Pet. You wouldn’t want me to have to slaughter everyone in this house, would you?”

It’s him. But that’s impossible. I shot him. I saw his lifeless body with my own eyes. The Sons blew his house up. There’s no way.

“You thought you could kill me?” His humorless chuckle makes the hairs on my arms stand on end. “What did I tell you? You’re my Pet, and no one can take you away from me.”

He crouches and hoists me over his shoulder, and though I try to punch and kick, my limbs won’t move. They just hang limply.

Did he drug me?

He walks us silently through the clubhouse. I open my mouth to scream, but my voice is gone. Is there a drug that would take away my every ability to get away but allow my mind to still function? When we step outside, I’m back in the room with the dirty mattress and barred windows. This can’t be right. None of this is right.

Yet I feel his touch, and I hear his voice, so it must be real.

Tossing me on the bed, he glowers down at me. He’s wearing the same unbuttoned white shirt and black slacks, and his muscles glisten with perspiration after carrying me such a long distance.

“You want to know who was here before you and what happened on this mattress?” he asks.

I nod, even though I changed my mind. I don’t want to know, not like this.

A small C-shaped stainless-steel table appears, and I blink my eyes, wondering how I missed it before now. Sitting on top is a leather case that Sir opens while humming a happy tune that makes my skin crawl. He pulls out a silver dildo with metal spikes running up and down its length, just like the paddle.

My lips mouth the word “no,” but still, no sound comes out. This can’t be happening. It can’t be. This must be a nightmare. That’s all it is. I will myself to wake up, but I can’t. If my arms weren’t lying useless next to me, I could pinch myself. I try to focus on getting my hand to lift from the mattress, but it refuses.

“The pet who was here before you couldn’t take this, but you’re special.” He kneels in front of me, spreading my legs. Frosty air hits my sex that’s clenching so tight, there’s no way he’ll get his pinkie inside me, let alone that thing.

“Relax,” he coos. “This’ll feel so good.”

Tears spill from the corners of my eyes, soaking the mattress. I feel his icy fingers spread my outer lips apart, and then the tapered tip of the dildo grazes my sex. I try so hard to move, to fight back, but I’m frozen, helpless. He pushes the tip inside me far enough that the first set of spikes scrape into my sensitive flesh.

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