Page 60 of Savage Queen (Blood Empire 3)

“No,” Axel snarks. “Have you?”

“Well... no,” Neo says, frowning, then looks at Harlow. “I mean, closest thing to it was what we did with Cass.” Neo wiggles his eyebrows. “But I do love the idea of taking that sweet ass at the same time one of my cousins takes that perfect pussy.”

Harlow grins and rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to me and Axel.

“Look, if it’s not something you want to do, I won't hound you. But does the idea of you both fucking me until I’m screaming your names make my thighs wet? Yes, it really fucking does.”

“I mean...” I scratch the back of my head, looking at my brother. “I’m willing to try anything once.”

Harlow’s eyes darken and a wicked grin takes over her lips. “Careful with your words, Cassy boy, or you just might end up with a strap on in your ass too.”

My eyes widen, and she bursts out into giggles. “Let’s not go that far,” I backtrack.

“Fine. Let's do it. What do you have in mind?” Axel asks.

“Well, it could be on the bed or I can climb Cass like a tree and...” Harlow starts.

“I meant for our little outing,” Axel huffs.

“Oh! I found something fun we can do, and it’s given me fun playdate ideas for the future.

Oh boy. We're going to be in for an interesting day.

“AXE THROWING?” AXELasks as we step into the warehouse.

“Hell yeah,” Harlow says, spinning around with a wide smile. “Sadly, the targets are just plain wood,” she pouts. “But! I brought this,” she says, pulling a little box out of her bag.

“What is it?” I ask.

“It’s a mini projector.”

“Why do you need that?” Axel asks, lifting a brow.

“You’ll see.” She winks before turning around and heading towards the front desk.

“Welcome to Whack An Axe, how can I help you?” A man greets in a monotone voice without looking up from his computer.What is up with these weird names?Did whoever came up with these businesses not put any thought into naming them something catchy?

“I booked a private lane,” Harlow answers.

“We don’t do private lanes,” the man says, then starts laughing as a video plays on his computer.

The way this man is dismissing us without even really acknowledging our presence is pissing Harlow off. Her jaw ticks as she looks the dude over. She bends down and pulls the computer cord from the wall.

“What the hell?” the man mutters, pressing random keys on the keyboard.

“Now,” Harlow growls. She slaps her palms down on the desk, making the man jump back and his head snap over to her. “Like I said, I booked a private lane. It should be under Queenie.” She gives him a sweet smile that is anything but. His eyes widen, and he’s up and out of his chair in seconds.

“O-of course. I’m so sorry, ma'am,” he says, grabbing some papers off his desk.

“Don’t call me that,” Harlow mutters. “Makes me sound old. I hate it when people call me that.”

“Here,” he says, holding out the papers.

“What's this?” she asks, not bothering to take it.

“It’s a waiver,” he says, blinking at her.

Harlow snorts. “I won’t be needing that.” She waves it away.

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