Prowl (The Game #12) Read Online Cara Dee

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Game Series by Cara Dee
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Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 114284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
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“Welcome back to winter wonderland,” I said. “What on earth makes one fly home earlier from South Florida?”

The winter in Virginia may be short, but it was brutal from this Southerner’s perspective. Despite that Knoxville wasn’t too warm in the winter either. Or the fact that I hadn’t lived there in decades.

“Eh.” Ty shrugged and unzipped his jacket. “After a week with y’all, it felt a bit empty. I miss my sidekick for snake retrievals too. I considered textin’ Lane about the seventeen-foot python a buddy of mine and I went to collect the day after y’all left, but Lane was pretty clear that what we had expired when he left.”

I was listening. As I pulled out two stools from under the workbench, I side-eyed him and went with straightforwardness. “You’re going after Lane, then.”

“Oh, fuck yeah. I thought I was slow on the uptake to go from hell nah, I don’t need a relationship to Yeah, we got somethin’ to build on here in three or four days, but that boy’s slower than an armadillo holdin’ up traffic.”

I chuckled and shook my head, appreciating his bluntness more than I could express. It was refreshing. A man who wanted someone and just went for it? Details were meant to be hashed out later on, together.

“Have a seat,” I said. “I’ll go get us some beer. Although, at this rate, we’re gonna need coffee and bourbon to keep warm soon.”

“Right? They’re talkin’ about winds up to sixty miles an hour and twenty inches of snow.”

Safe to say, we weren’t in Florida anymore.

I cranked up the heat on the way too, and then I wondered if I should give Ty my own thoughts about Lane—or if I should let them figure shit out themselves. I didn’t particularly want to get involved, nor did I want to say anything that wasn’t my business, but…

I returned with two bottles of beer, glad I’d bought them cold. Otherwise, they’d be far from ready. I might need a new fridge.

“This is a good thing you’ve got goin’ here,” he commented. He was scanning the surroundings. “I’ve lived five minutes away the past three years, and I never knew they had workshops for renting by the water.”

“They cost an arm and a leg, but I try to see the rent as an investment in my mental health,” I half joked.

“If it’s between a workshop and bills to a therapist, it’s an easy choice.”

Exactly.

“Anyway, I didn’t know what your pizza preferences were,” he said, flipping the lid on the box, “so I went with a large pie assortment of sorts.”

Huh, he’d bought individual slices to make up a large pizza. That could’ve saved Macklin and me a few fights in the past. Then again, we’d picked fights about everything in the end.

“I’m not fussy so long as I don’t get anchovies.” I reached for a slice with pepperoni and green peppers. “But Macklin orders the weirdest pizza, so around him, I put in my own order.” I took a big bite and remembered the shit he’d come home with over the years. “Chefs, I tell you. They always wanna try somethin’ outlandish like squid and fuckin’ strawberries.”

Ty’s forehead creased. “Not on pizza.”

I nodded. “On pizza.”

“Jesus.”

That would be the one food group I couldn’t trust my boy with. The only one.

Ty smiled around a mouthful of pizza, as if he’d just thought of something. “I think Lane told me he spent Christmas with Macklin—and that Macklin experimented with homemade pizza.”

“And Lane survived?” I lifted my brows. “I’m impressed.” Then I wanted to add something, primarily to stay on the subject so I could say my piece. “Maybe not surprised, though. He seems to be a survivor, that one. And for what it’s worth, I don’t think he wanted to put that expiration date on y’all for a second.”

Ty turned a bit pensive at that, and he nodded once. “I got that impression too. I just gotta figure out what he’s hiding from me.”

I frowned. Was Lane hiding something? I thought it was all about his ADHD.

As if sensing my confusion, Ty elaborated and grabbed another slice. “See, I’m pretty sure Lane and I have met before. He insists we haven’t, but the way he dodged the subject when I tried to remember made me suspicious.”

Huh. I had not seen that coming. Perhaps Macklin knew something and wasn’t telling me. Which, I mean, I couldn’t hold that against him. If Lane had told him something in confidence, my boy was supposed to keep that to himself.

“Are there any plausible scenarios for a past introduction?” I asked. “Have you maybe attended the same kink event at some point?”

“Doubtful.” He shook his head. “I haven’t been part of the kink scene in ten years. But back in the day—when we lived over in Arlington—my daughter went to school with Lane’s cousin.”


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