Page 83 of Quinlan

“Fuck your approval.” All those years of letting Rex walk over me come back with a vengeance. “What do you want?”

“Whatwewant.” The alluring curve of his lips does things to me. Against my wishes, much like that day in the cocktail bar, wetness pools between my legs. I’m instantly drawn to him. “Is to discuss the terms of your employment.”

“The ones you won’t find in your contract,” Rome says.

I shake away the lust, whipping my head at him. “I won’t do anything I didn’t sign up for. You can’t make me.”

“Remember what I told you at the bar?” Damien’s teasing is a trap. A honeytrap.

“No.” Yes. I do remember, goddamn it.

“You’re ours,” Liam says, as if I needed the reminder.

As if I haven’t been replaying every second of last night in my head throughout the day.

My arousal.

My fear.

How I didn’t want them touching me after I’d discovered they’d tricked me.

How I didn’t care they lied and wanted them all over me.

For one night, I was desperate for them. For one night, I ached to have my freedom.

I wasn’t supposed to meet them ever again. Wanted to, sure. But they were way too intense for me. They were a lot for my heart and mind to handle separately. I couldn’t sustain a relationship with the three of them together.

Yet here they are. My new bosses.

“I’m your employee.” A Hail Mary. Something to stop them from turning me into their sex slave.

Because that’s what this is, right? The clause that couldn’t be on the signed contract.

After last night, I’m positive that this is it.

“It’s illegal, what you’re doing.”

“That’s only half-true.” Damien bares his teeth in a grin. A terrifying grin.

“The other side of the coin is…” The anger in Rome has melted. In its place, there’s wicked satisfaction. “As of today, you’re our property.”

At that, I laugh. I sound cynical. So unlike myself. That’s how ridiculous Rome’s statement was. Somehow, being a sex slave makes more sense to me than being a property.

What does that even mean?

“You have got to be joking.”

Flick.

As if summoned, I’m drawn to Liam’s hand. To the red, orange and blue flame. His gold Zippo.

“Afraid not.”Snapand the flame is gone. “You’re our property. You’ll be moving into our home.”

Anotherfuck yousits on the tip of my tongue.Who do you think you are?too.

Except I could be pushing it. I could lose this job if I said those things.

Damn it.

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