My phone pings, and I jump on it, but it’s only another text from Mom. She’s called and texted daily since Thursday, but her faux concern doesn’t fool me. I delete the text without reading it, biting on the inside of my cheek, and the pain helps ground me.
The door is closed but the sounds and smell of sex permeate the air as we approach. I turn with my back to the door, lifting my shot up. “Down the hatch!” I toss back my shot, and the others do the same. I grin at them. “Prepare yourself because I’m pretty confident when I say you’ve seen nothing like this before.”
I move to open the door, and Emmett circles his arm around my shoulder again, but I brush it off this time. “The goon squad is through here, and you need to stay back.”
Emmett chuckles as he slinks away, putting distance between us.
“It’d be good if you hooked up with someone,” I suggest, and he shrugs noncommittally.
“I hope you’re not queasy,” I joke as I open the door and lead the way.
The same décor has been used to transform this room, and the usual furniture has been removed and replaced with a bunch of mattresses strewn across the floor. Everyone in here is naked or semi-naked except for the assholes lording it over everyone else from the raised dais at the back of the room.
“Are they sitting on thrones?” Sean chokes out.
“Yeppers. They really are that obnoxious.” I glare at the four dickheads as they smoke and drink from gold-plated thrones while they watch the orgy unfolding before them.
Everywhere I look, people are fucking, and there’s zero discrimination and zero limits here. I ignore the grunting, groaning, and thrashing bodies as I pick my way toward the makeshift stage.
Saint hones in on me, his eyes practically burning my dress off my body as I slowly approach. His gaze treks down my long legs, and I know I made the right call ditching my thigh high boots in favor of the stilettos. My long, slim, shapely legs have always been one of my best features, and I’m not opposed to using my body for gain when there’s a need. I draw the line at full-on prostitution, but most everything else is fair game.
Saint clicks his fingers, and one of the minions standing guard at the side of the stage moves forward to meet us. He stops directly in front of me. “Your friends are welcome to stay if they’re participating.” He looks over my shoulder. “Get naked or get out.”
I glance behind me. “I’ll meet you back out in the main room.”
Sariah slants a look at me, and we silently communicate. I nod, and she takes her boyfriend’s hand, drawing him away. I quirk a brow at Emmett. It’s his call.
He casts a wary eye at the group of four guys and two girls on our left. It’s a total free-for-all. Two of the guys are fucking the girls, and the other two guys are fucking one another. “I’ll pass,” Emmett says, adding, “You sure you want to do this alone?”
“I’ll be fine.” I subtly raise the hem of my dress on one side, showing the blade strapped to my upper outer thigh.
His eyes blaze with heat, and I caution him with a firm look. I’ve no doubt Saint is watching us, and that guy misses nothing.
“Okay. But if you’re not back in fifteen minutes, I’m coming to get you.”
“I think someone has a hero complex,” I tease.
“I fucking mean it, Lo.”
He levels a glare at the stage, and I tug on his arm to capture his attention.
What the fuck is he doing antagonizing them?
“Think of your sister,” I whisper, and that snaps him into place. He turns and leaves, and I watch until he’s closed the door behind him before turning back around and walking toward my soon-to-be stepbrother.
“Princess. How good of you to join us,” Saint drawls, patting his lap like I’m a dog.
“Thrones?” I ignore him, quirking a brow and placing my hands on my hips. “Really? Aren’t you guys supposed to besaintlyand shit?”
He cocks his head to the side, that smug superior grin plastered on his mouth as he pats his lap again. I guess the guy is used to chicks obeying his every wish and command. He’ll soon realize that’s not me.
“You’ll have to change your name to The Kinghood.” My lips twitch. “Or maybe The Dickhood would be better,” I add in a deliberately breathy tone as I lean down into his face. “Because you’re all such dicks.”
I straighten up, smirking as his nostrils flare. Saintly didnotlike that.
“Looking sexy, babe. C’mere,” Caz calls outs from his slouched position on his throne. “That dress is straight fire.” His leg is thrown over one arm of the chair, and he’s doing nothing to hide the massive bulge in his dark jeans as he smokes a blunt and shamelessly ogles me. The guys are all bare chested, and I’m sure it’s a calculated move to have every female in the vicinity panting after them.
I’m doing my best not to fall into that category, but damn, all four of them are sporting impressive chests and abs, and I know what they’re packing behind their boxers too, which does nothing to dampen my ardor.
