All that fanfare doesn’t negate the fact that they’re here. In person. With me. On The Hook Up Island. Where I was supposed to rid my heart and mind of them forever.
What were they doing here? How did they find me? Will I ever be able to escape them? Was I subconsciously even more obsessed with them, and while trying to let go of them, did I bring them here to this island? Oh, Clover, that is self-sabotage at its finest.
My body betrays me over and over again at the sight of them, uninterested in the repercussions of their presence. They weren’t supposed to be here. How am I ever going to get over them otherwise?
This wouldn’t have mattered if Harry and I had gotten it on. I’d be more protected so that when I saw them again, I wouldn’t only see them with those three stunning women on their arms—the ones they’re actually dating. The ones I will never be.
“You can’t just––this is international waters. Or something. I have rights.” I cry from over Nolan’s shoulder. “I was in the middle of...” I rack my brain for the word. What is that word? “Scoring,” I say loudly when it comes to me.
“I was in the middle of scoring with that very nice, cute man, and you... You three, umm... What’s that phrase...” I think hard, and just when I think I have it, I blurt out instead, “You penis prevented me.”
Why am I not functioning properly?
“You mean cock-blocked you?” Oren supplies, grinning.
Yes, that is so much smoother than ‘penis prevent.’ “Oh shut up, Oren, no one likes a smart ass!”
“You mean erudite Gluteus Maximus?”
I just stick my tongue out at him.
The moment we step into the presidential suite, Nolan doesn’t bother putting me back on my feet. He ignores my protests that I can walk on my own two feet perfectly fine, and instead, after looking around the room, he continues to carry me clear across the massive suite, right into the bedroom, straight to where a similar but strange padded bench sits––like the one I have in my room.
My stomach flips.
Before I can form another coherent thought, he sets me down on my feet, spins me around, and bends me over the angled leather surface. The raised middle presses into my hips, forcing my ass up and my chest down against the cool, padded top. I gasp at how quickly it happens.
Kellan easily commandeers my wrists and proceeds to restrain them. Cool leather cuffs are fastened around them snugly, but not so tight that they hurt. I could barely fight my way out of his grasp, not with Nolan’s hand planted firmly on my lower back, keeping me in place while Oren moves behind me, spreads my legs, and secures my ankles to the lower cuffs. In seconds, I’m completely bent over, ass in the air, completely unable to close my legs or stand up straight.
I’m now one with the bench. At least my dress stayed in place. I’m just about to open my mouth to ask them what the hell they think they’re doing when my dress is flipped up over my butt, exposing my panty-clad bottom. Cool air hits my bare skin, and I squirm, not only my face burning but my bottom too, at the sheer ignominy of my position.
Oh, but it doesn’t stop there. My entire universe flips over when I see Kellan take a pair of scissors from a utility drawer and then cut away my panties. Leaving me 100% exposed.
My nerves scatter in every direction. The cool breeze that coasts over me now only intensifies the heat settled into the soaked folds of my pussy.
They can’t see me this way. They can’t see the wetness dripping from me, created the instant I laid my eyes on them. I can’t help myself. My body just betrays me. No. I have to fight. This can’t be happening to me.
They didn’t put me in this position because they want me. But did they find out it was me who stole their boxers? No. I have to play completely dumb and innocent about my escapade and only engage in the topic if they actually mention it. Other than that, I have to pretend they don’t know anything about it, and this is something different altogether.
“Okay, this isn’t funny anymore. Release me at once.” I jerk desperately at the restraints, pulling on the leather cuffs on my wrists as if I can pull myself free. I can’t. I’m hopelessly trapped.
“If my brother put you up to this, I’m going to kill him. Let me go right now.” That might be it. Troy. I have no idea what he’s up to, but this is something he would do. Except he has no idea what he’s done to me.
“Let me go, you idiots. This isn’t funny anymore. You sliced up my underwear, for goodness’ sake. That’s psycho territory right there, and what is this weird chair? What—”
My soul entirely leaves my body when Kellan’s palm makes contact with the skin of my body. The action is so unbelievable, my brain stalls and can’t find its footing again. Until the next strike, but this time it’s by Nolan. Then Oren. Then it repeats.
Chapter Eight
Clover
Oh my god. I now know that this is a spanking bench. A whole-ass spanking bench, and I’m trapped in it while being spanked by the three men I wish I hadn’t met because they broke my heart.
Well, that bolsters my courage. Also, I need to distract them from the wetness dripping from my pussy. Dear god, help me. I need to get out of this situation immediately.
“Are you insane? You can’t just come to my island, strap me to this god-awful torture device, and spank me. What is wrong with you three? Are you mad?” I ask in a different way about their mental health.
“When your brother gives you a direct order to stay home, you follow his order. It’s that simple,” Kellan says, laying one into me, so hard, I shudder.
