Page 26 of Sold on Them

“Didn’t have to ask for it.” Damon shrugs, moving in closer. “We’d like to see what we have to look forward to. Please don’t make us beg.”

Holy. Shit.

“How am I supposed to say no to that?” I bite back a groan and let my hand fall away.

Mackenzie grins up at me as she lowers the zipper. “You aren’t—that’s the point.”

My head falls back when her small hand slides inside and frees my cock. It’s not her mouth that closes around me, though. No, that honor goes to Damon. My hands find their heads, threading through Mackenzie’s hair while the other rests on Damon’s. He just doesn’t have enough hair to hold onto.

Damon’s lips close around me as he sucks me into his mouth while Mackenzie’s hand pulses around the base of my cock, keeping Damon from sucking my whole length. I can’t even say I mind.

A few moments later, her hand falls away to be replaced with her mouth as she sucks and licks whatever part of my cock isn’t in Damon’s mouth. Then they switch places and my eyes cross.

Damon gives good head, but Mackenzie gives amazing head. I don’t know what the hell she’s doing with her tongue but I’ve never felt anything like it.

“Fuck, I’m close. I’m going to come.” I’m a little embarrassed by how quickly I’m coming in her mouth, but with a jerk of my hips, I’m doing just that.

She lifts off my cock, dropping her mouth open so I can see my cum sitting on her tongue before she turns to kiss Damon.

My cock jerks as I watch the two of them make out in front of me, sharing my cum. It’s hot as hell, and my cock is miraculously getting hard again. I’m not as young as I once was, so this is abnormal for me.

Yeah, this weekend is definitely going to be interesting.

There’s a knock on the door, and it’s only then I realize the limo has stopped. I tuck myself back into my pants, shaking my head at the pair of them. “That was naughty. You made me not even realize we were here already. Come along, you two.”

Not waiting for an answer, I push the door open and step out.

Here we go. Let the weekend begin.

Chapter Twelve

Parker

I’m so sick of staring at hotel walls. The only time I get to leave the damn hotel is when we’re switching to another hotel. I wasn’t made for a life locked between four walls—even if the place is massive.

I wish I could figure out who the hell framed me so I can end all of this. It’s been going on for nearly a year now—ever since someone killed Rosalie Santiago and pinned it on me. Rosalie was the much-beloved wife of Santos Santigo, head of the Santiago Cartel. I might be a killer for hire, but even I know better than to take a hit against anyone in the cartel.

Let alone the head of the cartel’s wife.

No one has ever called me dumb before, but if I had done it, that’s exactly what it would’ve been—dumb.

I don’t know how these assholes got my damn fingerprint, but I hadn’t ever met Rosalie. Nor have I been to Columbia, where she was killed.

And yet, somehow it’s my name and face on the hit. It’s me that everyone is gunning for—not just for the money, but to get in Santos’s good graces.

Well, fuck them and fuck that.

I didn’t kill her, and I’m going to prove it before someone kills me. Somehow.

I just don’t know how yet.

Shaking my head, I throw myself back onto the bed. I know Cormac and Royce are worried about me—how can they not be after the incident with the razor.

I’d like to say I wasn’t trying to kill myself, but I don’t know if I was or not.

At the time, it felt like I was playing chicken with myself—trying to see how deep I could cut without killing myself.

Fuck.

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