Page 125 of Outlaws of Tulsa

“Just the Watcher’s Group sign.” I scowl at him. “I already told you everything, Copper. This is a waste of both our time.”

He snatches the bottle from me and drinks another swallow. “You know as good as I do that each time you revisit something in your mind, you find more. Already, you’ve described what they look like, which is more than what you had for me the first time. Stop being a difficult bitch and think.”

I know he’s right, but I hate that he is.

It’s quiet as I try to remember that day. The bottle gets shared back and forth. Copper remains silent, his eyes speaking for him as they roam over my breasts that are slowly being revealed as the bubbles disappear. I can’t hide from him, so I don’t even try. In fact, I get a thrill when he licks his lips.

Focus, girl.

“Vidal wore a lot of jewelry. I thought it was strange for a man to wear that many rings, bracelets, and necklaces. It wasn’t in a feminine way either. Just almost flashy. Like he enjoyed showing off his wealth.”

He nods, pleased at my new information, though it doesn’t feel helpful. “And Collins?”

“He’s more mysterious. I could tell he even keeps Vidal outside of whatever goes on inside his head. Something about Collins felt darker and more sinister than Vidal.” I take the bottle back from Copper, noting how numb my fingers have grown. “There were no family pictures or decorations in his office. It all felt temporary. Like he could abandon it all in a moment’s notice.” I swallow down the liquid and close my eyes. Collins’s face fills my mind, making me shiver. “He had a scar that cut through his brow. I thought it made him look like a villain even though everything else about him outwardly portrayed differently.”

“Good girl,” Copper rumbles, his eyes once again flitting to my tits. “I’m going to call Koyn. Sit tight. Don’t drown.”

I flip him off, earning a deep, amused chuckle from him that sets my insides on fire. Greedily, I drink down the vodka as soon as he leaves, wanting to blot out the past few days of hell.

I must have fallen asleep because I wake to strong arms lifting me out of the tub. I groan, shivering against the cold. Copper sits me down on the chilly bathroom counter, making me cry out. His features are dark and probing as he dries me off like I’m a child. Stupid me just lets him, drinking in his handsome features up close. His dick is hard in his sweatpants, leaving little to the imagination.

He places the compression wrap back on my sore ankle and then wraps a new towel around my shoulders. Tears prickle my eyes, hating his gentleness, as he scoops me up again. I lean my head against the warm spot between his neck and shoulder, inhaling his masculine scent. He sets me down on his bed and then snags a T-shirt that’s been laid out. I’m feeling too drunk to hate the way he dresses me like he cares about me. Instead, I allow myself to enjoy it.

Until he tries to drag me to the middle of the bed.

As though I’m going to sleep with him.

Anger chases off my drunken haze as awareness at my situation comes roaring in.

I kick at him with my good foot, landing a perfect shot to his hard abs. He grunts and his eyes widen with a mixture of hurt and shock. For some reason, it makes me want to cry. I don’t cry, though, and try to kick him again.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he growls, digging his powerful fingers into my thigh and dragging me toward him. My shirt bunches up under my breasts, exposing my pussy to him.

“Don’t touch me! You think you can get me drunk and I’ll sleep with you! Fuck you, Copper!”

I manage to smack him in the face with my good hand, startling him. It only serves to enrage him, not buy me time toescape. His fingers curl into my damp hair and he twists me onto my stomach, painfully yanking until my neck stretches at an odd angle. I whimper as fear douses my inner fire. The strength he possesses is terrifying. With another strong twist, he could easily break my neck.

“I already told you,” he snarls against the side of my neck, his heavy body keeping me trapped against the bed, “you’re mine. I took responsibility for you, which means if I want to touch you, I will. If I want to fuck you, I can. Stop thinking you run the goddamn show, Stormy.”

I have no words for him, just silent tears that stream down my cheeks. A sob catches in my throat when he lifts his body up, fumbles from behind me, and then his thick, throbbing dick rubs along the crack of my ass. My entire body freezes.

“Jeremy,” I whimper, hoping the use of his real name will stop him from what he’s about to do. I was stupid to goad him, especially with vodka in the mix. “Please don’t. I’ve never…”

He releases my hair to gently stroke it away, exposing my shoulder. His kiss on my flesh warms me. “Never what,Brenda?”

I cringe because when you throw out our real names, it almost feels like this thing between us is real. Not a captive and captor situation.

“Anal,” I choke out. “It’ll hurt. I’m not ready.”

Filter was the only man who wanted it, but I was too afraid to try. I’d already given up so much of myself that I didn’t want to give that up too.

“Suck on my finger, little storm,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. “Be a good girl and obey.” He presses his finger against my lips, and to my utter horror, I open to invite it in. Not only do I let it in, I suck on his callused flesh in a fervent way that I hope gains me favor. Based on the way he rubs his dick against my crack, I’d say he’s enjoying it.

He pulls it out and then slides off me. His finger finds its way to my asshole and he teases the tight ring. I clench my cheeks, tears burning in my eyes.

“Let me in, baby,” he croons. “I need to feel what’s been untouched by anyone. What belongs to me.”

I’m drunk because his stupid words warm me to my toes. I relax my body, sucking in a breath when the tip of his finger breaches the hole. Fire burns through me, but I grit my teeth through the pain of it. All that can be heard is the ragged sound of our breathing as he slowly fucks my asshole. I’m afraid to move or utter a word.

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