Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 133213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Oh, he was obviously ready to play. “I can handle myself.”
“Can you, baby? Because I’m the one who handles everything for you,” he shot back. “And now I’m wondering if you appreciate any of it at all or if you sit around wishing I was him.”
The words sparked through her. This wasn’t what she’d meant at all. Aidan had been here for her. Why the fuck had he had to lie? Why had they forced her to the outside? Still, she couldn’t bring herself to say the words that might soothe him. “You don’t have to worry about it anymore. You and Tris can find someone new to fuck since that seems to be all you need me for.”
“Clothes, Carys,” Tristan ordered. “You aren’t capable of anything but tearing us apart right now. You can take the clothes off or I’ll rip them off for you.”
Anger swelled, hot where it had been icy before, but it was impossible for her to be cold when they were so close.
Her only lovers. Since they were seventeen and they’d solemnly made love after prom. After they’d all promised to never leave.
They’d fucking lied.
She gasped as Tristan turned her forcibly toward him.
“Hold her still,” Tristan ordered, and he took the sides of her shirt and ripped the T-shirt she was wearing in half, baring her torso and the lacy bra she wore. It was supposed to be something sexy for her first night as Aidan’s wife.
Aidan’s arms became a cage, and it made it easy for her to fight back. It felt good to get physical. To be more than a precious, fragile thing everyone loved and protected and kept to the side. So she fought even as Aidan held her tight and Tristan started to drag her clothes off. She kicked out at him, knowing she couldn’t really hurt him. He was far too strong and knew how to fight. She was helpless as he efficiently got her naked, tossing her bra to the side after ripping it off. The delicate undies she’d selected for her wedding night were trashed with a single tug of his strong hands.
Tristan stared at her for a moment, his eyes on her breasts. “I forgot how gorgeous you are. I thought I remembered every detail, but I didn’t.”
She didn’t want to hear his soft words. She jerked back, trying to force Aidan to drop her hands.
A sad look came over Tristan’s face, a wistful, longing expression, and then he stepped back. “Let her go. See if she runs or if she knows when she’s finished.”
Asshole. Aidan let go of her hands and she pushed back, turning to put some space between them, every minute feeling a spark she’d been missing for forever. The conference room was large and gave her space to run. She moved to the back of the room where the high-tech screen hung down, framed by several lovely works of art Aunt Charlotte had curated. She was naked and standing in a room with two men she shouldn’t trust. Her family was somewhere in this building, and she was about to get fucked hard. When she decided to go bad, she went all out.
Aidan growled and then charged. She spun out of the way, but he’d anticipated the move and grabbed her elbow as his momentum carried him past her. What he hadn’t expected was for her to stick out a foot and trip him.
He took several stumbling steps before crashing into the wall. The screen trembled and so did the paintings, the closest one falling off its hook and hitting the carpet with a thud.
She was about to pick it up when Tris clotheslined her, hauling her up by her waist. A gasp came from her chest as he plunked her down face first on the conference room table. His big hands pinned her down.
“Take her wrists,” Tris ordered in an almost guttural tone. “Carys, don’t give me more trouble. I’m emotional, too. I want to give you what you need, not rip us entirely apart.”
“You already did that,” she hissed back, anger surging. Anger felt good. Anger felt warm and active, even though they were holding her down.
“No, I fucked up, but it doesn’t have to be over. And I’ll show you why.” Tristan put a hand on the flat of her back.
She was caught between them, utterly helpless, and somehow being so vulnerable, being unable to move, helped her face what she hadn’t been willing to before.
They’d betrayed her. They’d plotted behind her back and treated her like a child. She was a toy.
Tristan’s hand came down on her ass, the sound cracking through the room like thunder, and she was happy she came from a family of perverts because she shouted out. The pain washed over her, and she felt the shock start to wake her up.