Page 48 of Filthy Liar

“If I thought what you’re trying to sell me right now was real, I’d give you everything you wanted, Dillion. You’re a goddamn Southern Mafia princess. You could have the whole empire to yourself, sweetheart.”

I try my hardest not to physically cringe when he calls me sweetheart. And the fact that he’s saying I’m a princess makes me ill. I want absolutely nothing to do with the Southern Mafia. Princess, queen, king, whatever the case, I want nothing.

“But?” I ask, trying to keep my voice husky and sexy.

He smirks. “I know this is an act. I might fuck you anyway, but I’m going to do it when I have your man tied up, and I’m going to make him watch as I make you come.”

As much as I want to tell him that he couldn’t possibly do that, I also know he probably could. He did when we were together, and he could probably do it again, at least with his fingers.

It would never feel as good as when Humble makes me come. Not in a million years. When Humble touches me, it’s the best feeling I’ve ever had in my entire life. I love every single part of him.

And I love the way he makes me feel.

My breath hitches at that realization.

I love him.

My secret lover. My motorcycle roughneck. I don’t know if he’s a good man or a bad one. I don’t know much about him, butI know how he makes me feel. I know how gentle he is with me, how his touch makes my body sing. I know enough to come to the realization that I am head over heels in love with him.

Although, to be perfectly fair, it’s probably more lust than it is love, considering I don’t know much about him at all. But what I do know is that I want his hands and cock to be the only male body parts near and inside of me until the day I die.

So, I’m going to call that love.

It’s the closest thing to love I’ve ever experienced. Love isn’t something I understand, that I know anything about, but whatever this is with Humble, I consider it love because the feelings are completely foreign to me.

Conrad stands and takes a step backward. And as soft and kind as his eyes were a few seconds ago, they shift. Then he smirks and dips his chin.

“You’re mine now, Dillion, which means you’re mine to do with what I wish. Since I’ve already fucked you, I’m not going to do it again. However, my new friends would love a go, I’m sure.”

I know what friends he’s talking about.

And I refuse.

“Fuck you,” I hiss. “I won’t be with any of them. None of them. I would rather die.”

“That can be arranged,” he murmurs.

“Good. Then just do it already.”

He laughs. “I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of dying. Not yet.”

Then, without another word, he walks out of the room. I’m not tied to anything, but I feel like I might as well be, especially when that door is locked behind him, and I’m left alone in this room.

This windowless room is the same as me being tied up. The only difference is that I have a sense of freedom in this room. It’s a mind game. A whole mindfuck. I refuse to play into it, though.

Fucking refuse.

Closing my eyes, I try to think of a way out of this. Except I can’t. I’m not helplessly tied to a bed anymore, but I am indeed helpless. I don’t think I can get out of this on my own. If Humble doesn’t save me, I have a feeling I’ll be at Conrad’s mercy and that man is anything but merciful.

I’m going to have to think fast and act faster if I’m going to save myself. I’m not even sure if Humble knows where I am, so it may get down to that. My thoughts are interrupted by a loud bang. Then I hear yelling before several loud pops.

Oh my god.

Is it Humble?

Is he here?

But when the door flies open, I lift my head, and my gaze connects with someone who is definitely not Humble. In fact, he’s not wearing a Dark Horse MC vest at all. The vest says Demon Guns, which are the assholes who took me in the first place.

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