Page 155 of Double Bucked

“I need you to hear me when I say…I will never be yours.”

I reach between us, take the knife out from under my dress, and twist it upward, gorging him right near the groin.

He chokes in surprise. He doesn’t scream. He doesn’t whimper. I just watch the pure and utter shock cover his face as he looks between us.

When he gets his tongue back, it’s to laugh.

“Dumb bitch,” he says. “You missed my dick.”

“I know,” I tell him. “I hit your femoral artery.”

I yank the knife out. Blood showers down on me.

53

EVERETT

Mary-Kate leads us upstairs. I hear music in the other room—not the thumping club music from the library.

This is a live band. Folksy.

Mary-Kate notices my attention shifting. “That’s the Queen’s coronation.” She winks. “Not for us.”

Belleflower Queen. Claire.

She’s near.

She tugs my hand. The guard body-checks me, his shoulder nudging against mine. When he does, his jacket falls open, and I spot the firearm holstered to his belt.

Gun. I need that gun.

I let Mary-Kate lead me up the stairs. She leads us into a bedroom with white, fluffy sheets and landscapes on the walls.

The door clicks closed behind us. The guard stays inside, watching.

Mary-Kate’s fingers make quick work of my shirt. She runs her palms over my chest and stomach, appreciating the muscles there.

She lets out a low hum, a near purr. “Claire always got all the best things,” she muses. “My turn.”

She comes in for a kiss, but I close my hand on her throat, holding her at bay. Her eyes go wide with surprise, and she gasps. In the edge of my vision, I see the bodyguard tense, his hand going to his sidearm.

My wolf is howling. I hold her here but don’t squeeze. Instead, I stroke my thumb over the pounding pulse of her throat.

“You smell like other men,” I tell her. “Go. Clean yourself first.”

The surprise in her eyes morphs into a burning heat. She licks her lips. “Yes, sir.”

With that, I release her. She gives me one last hungry look before she vanishes into the adjoining bathroom. She leaves it cracked open. An invitation I won’t take her up on. The shower hisses as it starts up.

I can feel the guard’s eyes on me. I lean against the wall beside him.

“So,” I start. “Are you going to stay here the whole time?”

He won’t look me in the eye. “It’s my job.”

Oh. I can read the familiar lines of repressed homosexuality like a book.

All my worst, most vile instincts are rising to the surface, but I don’t care.

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