Page 107 of Cold Hard Truth

“I hope you meant what you said,” I utter, out of breath as I feel the slickness of our cum when I shift.

Sage grabs my hips and lifts me up, breaking our kiss. He holds me over him and looks down to watch himself drip out of me.

Tipping his head back, he kisses me again, and I feel more dripping out. And that’s when he lifts his hips to grind his soaking cock through me.

“I meant every word.” He kisses my lower lip, down my jaw. “I’m going to fill you up. Paint you. Cover you. I’m going to mark your entire body with my cum. Because you’re mine, Lyla. In every single way that counts.”

He glides me over him, and I moan.

“And you’re mine.”

“Mm-hmm,” he hums.

His cock has barely lost blood flow when its already turning to steel again. And I want him to thrust back in, but a knock at the front door makes me sigh.

“Fuck.” He tips his head back.

“I think they’re here.” I look down at the mess of clothes we never fully got out of and can’t help but laugh.

“Sounds like it.” He groans, and I roll off him.

We lay facing the ceiling and his phone starts to ring. Reality is just on the other side, always knocking.

I reach over and take his hand. “Be safe, okay.”

He looks at me, gripping my hand. “Always.”

34

Sage

The horse stalls havea certain smell, and it’s not hay and horses. It’s a scent that drags me back to my childhood. To anyone raised in a traditional home, it would probably be disturbing.

Blood.

Sweat.

Cold night air.

For me, it’s strangely comforting and familiar.

Dad used to bring me out here with him when Kane was trying to get information out of someone. It was a reminder that the Twisted Kings are a family. If you turn your back on one, you’ll pay the price. They stick up for their own.

The horse stalls represent death to rivals, but to a member of the club, they stand for dedication. Until death.

Now, as I take in a deep breath, the horse stalls remind me of the kid who fell for Lyla. A kid who still had innocence in him, even if he was being trained in violence. A contradiction I still can’t piece together.

The stalls remind me of following her around the compound to keep an eye on her. Protecting her like I was ordered to. Because at first, that’s what it was—a command I was following. I can’t pinpoint when that changed or if it happened fast or slow.

But it happened.

And now the horse stalls smell like my future if Kane finds out what I’ve been doing. This is the place he’s going to end me for touching his daughter.

Spinning the chair around, I straddle it, facing the center of the stall. Kane and Steel are standing over Bullet, who is tied to a chair.

One look in Bullet’s eyes and I know he’s still got some fight in him, even if it won’t do him any good.

Usually being in the stalls is my element, but right now, I just want to be with Lyla. I just want to forget all the bad decisions I’m making when they’re the only things that make life worth living.

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