Page 58 of Savage Daddies

So here I am, sipping lemon tea in the living room while Sammy plays with her platypus.

I never drink lemon tea, but the taste time-travels me back to Wrangler’s house. Something about that decaying, wooden house made me forget about Felix. It made me forget why I was pissed off at the bikers too. They’re human and contain more layers than I initially thought—or Wrangler does, anyway.

They thought revealing their true identities would complicate matters.

They thought right.

Because they’re not just three random individuals I met a few days ago.

They’re the same three men who altered my perception of the male species.

The same men who were kind enough to hold up my legs during sex so I didn’t need to do it myself.

Men who actually know the definition of foreplay.

Their mouths were so attentive. They took their time between my legs, and each wrapped their lips around my pussy like they were kissing my lips. The perfect amount of suction was applied, and even though I wanted all of them to bury their dicks deep inside and fuck me senseless, no leather pants—or Wrangler jeans—were removed.

It thickens the plot. I thought before that the only reason I was drawn to them was because they were bikers, and because they reminded me of the masquerade encounter.

But theyarethe masquerade encounter!

It’s been almost four years, but I never once forgot about them. I’ve run my vibrator dead fantasizing about them. Recounting the experience was the closest I could ever get to sex, and now I’m even closer.

Not just to sex.

But to my grave.

Sammy shoves the platypus in my face and giggles. “What’s wrong, Mommy?”

“Mommy’s thinking.”

Her stark blue eyes sting my soul.

My stomach lurches.

I slept with Mr. Reeves.

And his ocean-blue eyes indicate that he could be Sammy’s biological father.

Footsteps crescendo in the hall as all of my organs compress.

“Zoe.”

I turn my head and meet Felix’s brown eyes.

A lump forms in my throat. “Yeah?” I sound more mouse than human.

“A word.”

Sammy jumps to her feet and shows Felix the platypus. “Look at?—”

“Daddy is busy,” he says firmly.

I uncross my legs and drag myself up from the floor. “Won’t be long, sweetness,” I lie, patting Sammy on the head, because, to be honest, this conversation with Felix could be my last.

As I follow behind him, a spark of hope ignites in my chest. If he knows what I’ve done, I could be off the hook. No man wants a cheating wife. Maybe he’ll take back his ring and banish me from this place.

We cross the bridge that leads to the business side of the house. It’s the first time I’ve been over here. Large, floor-to-ceiling windows allow in plenty of light, accentuating Felix’s features even more. He’s a similar age to the bikers, maybe a couple years older, but has ratty hair with zero volume, probably because he shampoos it…never. The only time it looks semi-presentable is when the glam team have gelled it away from his face for an event.

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