Page 100 of When Kings Fall

So Roman took matters into his own hands—literally—and dragged my father back to the Rolls, my mom following with her head bowed in a whole lot of shame.

My father was shoved into the driver’s seat and some heated words were spoken by Roman that we couldn’t make out, before they finally drove away.

When they were out of sight, a long breath of relief left me.

It was done.

The shackles were cast off.

I was free.

24

~Colton~

I woke up groggily and plagued by one hell of a hangover.

The first thing I noticed beyond my pounding head and weariness was a hand wrapped around my dick.

Blinking to clear my muddied vision, I looked to see that I was sprawled out butt-naked on my front, my dick in Mason’s hand as he slept on his back in a pair of boxers, his arms stretched out, the other flung over Bree’s breasts over the covers.

She was the only one wrapped up in the covers, but it wouldn’t have matter warmth-wise if she hadn’t been because Lev was wrapped all over her at the far end of the bed to me, his boxer’s robe loosely tied around me and only just covering his dick and a small part of that sexy ripped torso of his. His arms were covered more than anything else.

It looked like Bree was in just her bra and panties from what I could see—and what I remembered.

I had a very specific memory of us licking her through all that hot-as-sin lace and making her come just from that. It had been hella erotic.

Mason’s idea.

He had some dirty ones, that was for sure. He just hadn’t flexed that muscle for a while. But now he was, I was beyond excited to be a part of it.

Not just sexually-speaking, but for the whole thing.

Now he was free, it changed everything.

And we’d sure celebrated the fuck out of it last night.

Keeping my dick nestled in the warmth of his palm, I craned my neck over my shoulder and took in the place.

We were in the room that had been assigned to Bree, and it was a real mess right now.

Liquor bottles were everywhere.

My rumballs were over the floor and spilled across the dresser.

There were two burned out cigars that I recalled Mason and Lev smoking up a storm with.

A serving tray full of half-eaten sandwiches was on the coffee table in the seating area in the corner, alongside the crumbs left from a stuffed crust pizza—Levi’s favorite kind.

Our clothes were all over the place and mixed up.

Levi’s hoodie was flung over a lampshade,

Bree’s dress was hanging over the chandelier high above in the ceiling.

Damn.

The stale smell of smoke and booze was thankfully eased a little by Bree’s sweet and refreshing coconut scent cutting through it.

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