Page 43 of Savage Daddies

Remind me why I’m with the freak again?

Ah, yeah. To appease somebody else.

I think the masquerade remains a core memory because it was my last taste of freedom. It was the last time I acted selfishly to fulfill myowndesires.

I wish Father had warned me about the marriage. Given me more than a week’s notice so I could’ve begged the motorcyclists to steal me away on their bike or something. At Lucky Boy Casino,Father asks his employees to deliver resignationsfourweeks before the end of employment.

Before the end of mylife, I got nothing. No notice. Not even an apology on the day.

I slump in a leather chair and observe all three of them. Instinct tells me to straighten my posture, but there’s no need. These guys live in the middle of the desert, for God’s sake. They don’t understand social cues.

Speeding and crime-committing is more their forte.

And here I am again, alone in a room keeping three silver fox bikers company.

Oh, the world works in weird, wonderful ways.

“What are we in here for, then?” Bullwhip hardens his brow.

“I’m…” I search the ceiling. “Not sure.”

Bullwhip continues, “Now we’re alone, I want to know something.”

How good my back arch is?

If I can take it deep?

God, it’s been too long since I had cock inside of me.

I hate that Felix’s was the last one.

“What is your father doing in Paul’s casino? Doesn’t he have his own to run?”

Such a boring question. But one I’ve also asked myself these past few days.

“I dunno.” I creep forward in the chair to bring my face closer to the bikers. They all sit opposite me, black uniforms making it feel like an interrogation. “I think Felix is up to something.”

“Isn’t he always up to something?” sniggers Wrangler.

“Hm.” I recline back in the chair. “This feels different.”

“Does he have any dirt on Paul?”

“Like I said before, Felix never discusses work with me.”

He just instructs me to stand up straight and smile.

Mr. Reeves removes leather gloves and nets his hands together on his lap. “What feels different with him?”

“I don’t know. He’s on the phone a lot more. I see him even less.” Not like I’m complaining about the latter. “He seems busier than he was before. Always out of the house.”

“Hmm.” Mr. Reeves strokes a finger over his chin.

He looks awfully attractive like this.

My hormones need to pack the fuck in.

“What could a billionaire man that has everything be up to?” He wipes a hand across the back of his neck. A bead of sweat forms on his brow. It drops several seconds later, and I almost hear theplopsound it makes as it lands. Main room music recedes, the incoherent chatter too. Suddenly, and without warning, the world shrinks. Nothing outside of this room exists.

---