Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 67966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Sharpe glanced down at his boots and the way they stood out against the white marble floor.
“Where are we going?”
Lincoln tilted his mouth into a wicked smile. “You afraid?”
He met Lincoln’s leering smirk, which caused need to roar inside him. A need to take back control, a need to understand what the fuck was going on.
Did Lincoln wanna show him what they did to so-call “heal” the brokenhearted?
Take him upstairs and, what, fuck the pain away?
Sharpe scoffed. “I’m not afraid of a goddamn thing.”
But still, he didn’t move.
The pause went on too long for Sharpe to fake like he wasn’t. His pulse slowed to a crawl and unease stirred in his stomach.
“Ignore everything that’s telling you this isn’t real, that I’m not for real…and follow me, Channing.”
Sharpe’s breath hitched. No one called him by his first name, ever, not even in high school or his two years in college. He’d always hated that name—it sounded too soft for a hardened man like himself. He didn’t talk, look, or feel like a Channing.
Except, when Lincoln said it, there was no better sound.
“Don’t think, just follow my voice.”
Sharpe was stunned at himself when he turned and allowed Lincoln to pull him closer.
“I promise, there’s nothing upstairs to be nervous of…trust me.”
Sharpe closed his eyes.
Trust wasn’t a word in his vocabulary.
Belladonna Mansion
Virginia Beach Oceanfront
February 2nd, 12:59 a.m.
Thorn had said goodbye to the last guests thirty minutes ago, and Lucas couldn’t’ve been more relieved when that door closed because Thorn’s ass was delectable in those tight tuxedo pants, and he’d been wanting to grind against it for the last four hours.
And that was exactly what he was doing right there in the brightly lit foyer. He hadn’t even waited until they got upstairs.
He had Thorn pinned against the wall, his tongue buried deep in his mouth, both hands gripping his ass. Thorn moaned, his arms around his neck, fingers woven into his hair, keeping them together.
Lucas spun Thorn around so his back was against his chest and wove his fingers in his long black mane, grinding his cock against him.
He felt drunk, his head swimming with lust and possession every time Thorn pushed his ass back into him. It wasn’t just arousal, it was a feverish need to claim and brand, to bury himself so deep inside Thorn he’d never forget who held him like this.
“You know you’re not a rebound to me, don’t you?” he panted, cupping Thorn’s cheek and turning him to gaze into his eyes. “You’re too fuckin’ amazing to ever be that.”
“I wasn’t thinking that, but…your divorce was only a few—”
“I know, but my marriage was over long before that.”
“I’m not trying to obligate you, Lucas. But I want you to know…to see for yourself that there are men out there who value love over anything else. No amount of money can ever be equivalent.”
“Men like you?” he whispered, kissing Thorn again, slow and easy.
After a few seconds, Thorn answered with a slow nod.
“I already have money.” Thorn sighed. “Even still, it’s never been my greatest desire.”
“And what is it you want, gorgeous?”
Thorn turned into Lucas’s palm and placed a gentle kiss on it.
“Why have you been surrounded by all these second chances at love but never seized it for yourself?”
Thorn’s dark eyes glazed over, shimmering like polished onyx. “I didn’t want any distractions. I have no regrets. I’m proud of what my men and I have built.”
“You’re a brilliant businessman.” He licked a path into Thorn’s mouth. “I find that very attractive.”
“I knew you would.” Thorn’s smile went from appreciative to wicked. “I want you to show me just how much.”
Lucas wished he’d met Thorn all those years ago at his company’s charity benefit instead of the conniving server he ended up going home with and marrying.
He tugged harder on Thorn’s narrow waist. “Take me up to your room, and I will. I’ll show you all night and again in the morning.”
Lucas’s heart pounded with anticipation and excitement, and it wasn’t at the idea of just having sex. He wanted to be buried inside such a unique, kind, and gentle man.
He hadn’t felt this good in over a year, and for the first time in a long time, he was optimistic about what was to come.
Thorn took his hand, and they hadn’t even reached the first step of the grand staircase when his warmth was doused with frigid reality.
He didn’t shrink away from the unflinching, predatory scowl of Detective Sharp, glaring at him from across the foyer.
“Detective,” Lucas acknowledged, hoping he’d kept the shock out of his expression…unlike Thorn.
“In my line of work, not much surprises me anymore, Mr. Brewer, and here’s yet another example.”
“Sharpe,” Lincoln gritted.
Lucas hadn’t noticed Lincoln’s grip on Sharpe’s wrist or their close proximity.
What the hell is he doing here?
Sharpe didn’t pull his hand away from Lincoln as he stared with that hard, unreadable glare.