Page 113 of Ramsay

Since I have no idea what I’m getting myself into, I pull out a cute red dress and my signature heels borrowed from Carmen. The strapless dress hugs all my curves and plunges at the neckline, ending just below my ass.

Essentially, it’s a fuck me dress if I’ve ever seen one. What will Ramsay say when he sees me?

Probably nothing because he sucks at being a gentleman. Sigh.

My wrist is still on the mend, so I leave my hair around my shoulders and dust my eyes with a pale brown shadow before sliding on siren red lipstick to match the dress.

With my phone, which I finally got back from Ramsay and a cute little matching clutch, I shiver on the front porch while I wait for the guys. My parents are already in bed, so subterfuge isn’t necessary, but I don’t have their numbers and would hate for them to knock on the door.

When they roll up, I slide inside, meeting Ramsay’s scorching stare. Gone is the icy glare and with a shiver, I acknowledge, I like this new one.

“Mm, love, you look…” He glances at my cleavage and licks his lips.

“Look?” I repeat and his eyes shoot to mine.

“Completely delectable.”

I can’t help my smile and when he pulls me in for a fuck hot kiss before tucking me under his arm, I mentally swoon. I could definitely get used to this.

Diem casts me a grin from the front seat and I smile before saying, “Where are we going?”

Ramsay shrugs and I lean away to look into his eyes. “What?”

“Nothing, love. Just stick with us, that’s all.”

My skin hums with suspicion but I’m already here so I set it aside but remind myself to be cautious. Can I ever trust what comes out of Ramsay’s pretty lips?

All too soon, we roll up to a beautiful old home and I stare out the window with a silent sigh. There’s still much unresolved between us.

Am I walking into a trap? I sure fucking hope not.

“Come,” Ramsay says. The home is just as grand on the inside and I glance around curiously noting the elegant but faded furniture in the rooms we pass. Whoever lives here seems stuck in another time.

Where am I?

When Ramsay slows, I look up and falter because none other than Crush is standing before me with wide eyes and a menacing frown.

Shit. Fuck. Damn.

“You’re late,” he barks but he never takes his slick gaze off mine, and I curl my fingers into my palms when his disgusting stare drops to my tits.

If I never saw Crush again, it would be too soon and yet here he stands. I want to run but it’s too fucking late now. Instead, I raise my chin and hope he can’t sense the fear raising the hair all over my body.

I am so fucked.

“Cherry? What are you doing here?” he asks.

It’s only now that I notice he’s traded his street clothes for a suit. He’s not half bad looking all cleaned up but for the tattoos snaking out of his collar and the ugly ass sneer he wears.

I thought Ramsay’s lord of the manor smirk was annoying but Crush and his fucking holier than thou attitude take the annoying as fuck cake.

“She’s with me,” Ramsay says, pulling me close. I’m stiff as a board but he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

“With…you?” Crush says, his brows flapping over his eyes.

Oh fuck. What’s happening?

The fact that I escaped is bad enough in his world but now he thinks I defected to the next big dick in town. I’m screwed.

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