Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 61290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
I stare after his taillights, hurt and frustrated. I’m not equipped to handle a man like Winston Constantine. He’s too much . . . everything. I’m way out of my depth.
“Not a boyfriend, huh?”
Scout emerges from the shadows, an unreadable expression on his face. He’s dressed all in black. I don’t know what he’s been up to or what he plans on doing, I just know I don’t want any part of it. Twisting the knob, I let out an exasperated huff that it’s locked. He shoves his hand into his pocket and prowls up the steps. I tense up when he crowds me from behind.
“You never dressed up like this for Tate,” he murmurs, his tone menacing. “And I’m supposed to believe the guy who dropped you off in a fucking Lamborghini isn’t tapping this.” He squeezes my ass.
I try to push him away, but he’s taller and stronger, easily pinning my front to the door. My heart races inside my chest as I worry what he’ll do, but then he unlocks the door. Slipping out of his hold, I rush toward the stairs. The stupid shoes slow me down. I make it up three steps before he’s on me. When I open my mouth to scream, he covers it with one hand and wraps an arm around me to pick me up. My shoes fall off as I kick out, not making purchase with anything as he easily carries me upstairs.
I manage to hit him in the head with my phone, causing him to grunt in pain and release me. My heart is in my throat as I run to my room. The door barely closes before he’s shoving his way inside. I throw my phone at him which he easily swats away.
“Stay away from me!” I shriek. “I’ll call for Dad.”
“He can’t hear you downstairs,” he sneers. “Looks like it’s just you and me, sis.”
I try to dart past him toward the bathroom, but he’s faster, shoving his way in with me.
“Please don’t,” I beg, tears streaming down my cheeks. “Please, Scout. Please don’t hurt me.”
“Take your dress off.”
“No!”
He reaches into his pocket, withdrawing a pocketknife. Flipping it open, he tests the blade on his thumb, drawing blood.
“All I want is for you to wash his scent off, Ash. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I sob. “I swear.”
“Take your fucking dress off or I’ll cut it the fuck off.”
I inch back, trembling. “O-Okay. I’m doing it.”
He reaches inside the shower and turns the water on, his sharp glare never leaving me. I shakily unzip the dress. Before it falls away, I hold it to me, pleading with my eyes. All it takes is a gesture with his knife to have me dropping it to the floor. His jaw clenches when he finds me without panties.
“I fucking knew it. I told Sully and Sparrow, and they didn’t believe me.”
“I didn’t sleep with him,” I choke out. “The dress would show panty lines. Believe me, Scout. Please.”
He studies me for a beat. “Take your bra off.”
Quickly, I yank it off, standing completely nude for him.
“Get in and wash that whore makeup off your face.” He points at the shower. “That’s what you are, Ash. Some rich man’s whore. They don’t fuck pretty girls for love. No, they do it because it’s fun and interesting. May as well face the fact that you can’t get anywhere in this world.”
I have no words. All I can do is hug my middle and cry. He makes another terrifying gesture with his knife, sending me scurrying under the spray. I hurry to wash my face and hair, hoping he’ll leave. His stare never leaves my body.
He opens the door and steps in fully-clothed. I whimper, trying to run from him, but his knife presses into my throat. I know Scout. He’ll use it in a heartbeat. He’s psychotic. I freeze, trembling when he cups my breast. His dick is hard, pressed against my backside.
“Please don’t,” I beg.
His hand drifts down to cup my pussy. “Tell me who you belong to, and I’ll think about it.”
“You,” I blurt out without hesitation. “I belong to you.”
“Wrong answer.”
I cry out when he rubs at my clit in a rough way. I’m terrified, but my body doesn’t get the memo. Every nerve ending responds to his touch. It makes me cry harder.
“You belong to the Mannford triplets. All three of us. Ours to fuck with. Ours to destroy.”
I nod because I don’t know what else he wants. I’m afraid he’ll cut my throat. Thankfully, he pulls the knife away, flipping it closed and pocketing it again. He grips my breast with one hand while he rubs at my clit with the other. I’m disgusted when stars glitter around me. A moan escapes my throat, coating me in shame.