Page 68 of Double Down
I standin the doorway to Mav’s room, embracing the shadows around me, and wait for any sign of deceit from the woman who has my friends under her spell.
Watching her breathe is steady and calming, and I spend a few minutes rubbing the knuckle of my right index finger in the same rhythm.
Phoenix is technically mine just as much as she belongs to the others. But it’s hard to remind myself of that when she spends her days helping Con and Mav, and most of her nights end with her wrapped in Storm’s arms.
It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Except I don’t like to be touched by anyone… and I’m growing increasingly agitated that she doesn’t touch me as much as she touches them.
I constantly have to remind myself that it’s normal. That she doesn’t know I’m ready to tear Storm’s arms from his body when he pulls her into a hug before I can.
Or the rage that falls over me when I see Con wrap her hair around his finger, expecting me not to notice.
They all know I watch through the security system. I see the connections between them. I see the way she melts when they touch her. WhenItouch her.
She’s yours, too.
She thinks she wants to be ours. She acts as if she wants to be kept by us, but I see the doubt in her eyes. She hasn’t given herself completely over yet. If she thinks she can handle me, I’m happy to test the theory.
Showing her the truth of who we are—what we are—will either make her stay or make her run faster. Either way, I’d rather know now than later.
I will not make the mistake Con made when he fell for her before. She either falls first or gives herself over completely. I’m not going to risk being destroyed by empty promises and pretty lies. Or even uncertainty, for that matter.
She needs to be sure.
Once I’m satisfied with her truth, I’ll let myself develop permanent feelings. But for now, I leave her to rest and head down the hall to the last room on the right.
I remodeled it specifically for her. It was an unused storage area before. Now it’s a playroom for my kitten. A place to break her open and see what makes her tick. I made it soundproof—not for secrecy, although that is a nice perk.
No, I made it soundproof because the thought of Phoenix screaming in ecstasy for my ears alone is almost as arousing as the fact that I get to share her with my best friends.
In here, I don’t hear anything that reminds me of all of those spinning plates waiting to topple our empire before we finishbuilding it. I don’t want the resort or its problems to interrupt my time with Phoenix. I don’t want our parents’ threats to interfere with us. I don’t want to let the hackers beating me, or the men threatening my girl bother me.
In here, in this room I’ve built for her, none of that exists.
Waiting for her to wake up and see my text is almost torture. But it’s part of the game, and I love the games I’m going to play with her.
Phoenix leaves Mav’s room and walks down the hallway in the white shirt that I left on his bed. My white shirt.
She’s spent so much time swimming in Storm’s clothes that I’m not even ashamed in the slightest to admit a bit of jealousy. I wanted to see her in my clothes, and I am not disappointed. She’s sexy as fuck, especially since I know she’s not wearing anything underneath. Even her dark-pink lipstick makes me hard. That color will look perfect smeared across her face and my cock.
She’s the embodiment of every wet dream I’ve ever had. A beautiful woman, wearing my clothes, at my mercy for pleasure.
I wait until she’s about to pass the door, then lunge, catch her by her delicate throat, drag her in, and press her back against the door.
She doesn’t fight. She doesn’t make a sound. She knows better. Her eyes widen, and a small gasp escapes her lips—not fear, but that quiet, electric recognition that tells me I have her complete attention.
Good.
“You want to play a little game?” My voice drops, deliberate—the tone that makes people lean in without realizing it.
Her lips part. “Always.”
I let go and take several steps back, give her a moment to take in the room and all the toys on display: whips, crops, multiple sets of shackles with chains in different lengths, a spanking horse, modified stocks.
“Let’s discuss the rules of our game, Kitten.”
Giving her this space is important. Both for her sanity and my understanding. I won’t pressure her into accepting the dominant side of me. She has to step into it with her eyes wide open.
“Yes, Atticus.” She looks up at me with a fire in her eyes. “What are the rules?”
