Out of the Ashes (The Game #5) Read Online Cara Dee

Categories Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Game Series by Cara Dee
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Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
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That snapped my attention back to where it should be, and I swallowed nervously. Could Tate accept that? Because it was exactly how things were.

“Whore first, friend second,” KC concluded. “Interesting priorities.”

I flushed.

Noa moved in the corner of my eye, and he patted me on the head. “I get it. You’ve been trapped for so long, and now you’re free to be the world’s biggest and oldest come dumpster.”

The other three men expressed their amusement while I struggled between mortification and…well, the fact that he was right.

“Noa,” Kingsley said. “Would you mind showing Franklin to Room 14?”

“That means—yes! I can totally do that, Sir!” Noa came to life. He physically yanked at my arm and grunted, as if he could get me moving of his own accord. “Oh my gosh, you’re so slow. Let’s goooo. I have a job to do.”

I flicked Kingsley a glance, confused and ready to protest. Our scene or whatever they called it wasn’t over, was it?

He merely dipped his chin.

So I was going. I got up a little reluctantly and followed the boy out of the room.

“You remember what we talked about, freckles,” KC said.

“Always, Daddy!”

And what, exactly, was Noa’s job?

Room 14 was just a few feet down the hall and on the opposite side, and the door was already open. My pulse kicked up a notch at the sight of the interior. I’d never seen a bed so large before. It was more like two California king mattresses pushed together on the floor, taking up the center of the room, with a dimmed spotlight directly above it.

Was this one of the famous orgy rooms?

I couldn’t see a single piece of furniture aside from the bed. No pillows either, for that matter, or covers.

Noa closed the door. “You’re supposed to take off all your clothes and sit down on the bed.”

Heavens, was I really? In a fraction of a second, the room temperature rose at least twenty degrees. I shouldn’t be alone with this young man. He better have rules I could follow, because Kingsley hadn’t given me any.

I eyed the boy as I removed my tie, and he skipped over to the bed and jumped toward the middle. Once there, he simply sat down with his legs spread wide, hands planted behind him, and smiled curiously at me.

“Daddy and Master Kingsley say you’re another type of Daddy,” he told me matter-of-factly. “I mean, they’re speculating because of something Tate said.”

“Another type of Daddy?” I dropped my tie on the mattress, then proceeded to unbutton my shirt.

Noa nodded and watched me intently. “A submissive, slutty Daddy. A Daddy who will do anything to get fucked and play with little boys and maybe big boys too. Since you’re fucking obsessed with Master Kingsley. But I get it—he’s super-flippin’ hot. He’s promised to demonstrate fire flogging on my boyfriend and me sometime when the weather is better.”

The temperature kept rising…

“KC is your boyfriend,” I deduced.

Noa gigglesnorted. “No, you fucking silly goose. KC is Daddy. Cameron is my boyfriend. Lucian is our Master.”

Jesus.

Four people in one relationship?

“But do you think you’re a slutty Daddy?” he pressed.

“I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “It sounds very sexy, though.”

Tate came to mind. I didn’t know why; I didn’t even know what the job description was for a “submissive, slutty Daddy.” I just knew I thought of Tate—and that I wanted something. Perhaps it was how I associated the title of Daddy—along with the brief research I’d done on the internet—with how protective I’d sometimes felt when I’d had coffee with Tate. He’d been so upset, so shattered, about Kingsley believing there was something between the two of us. Hell, it was why I’d originally taken the matter into my own hands. I’d wanted to fix the problem. I’d wanted to protect Tate from more hurt.

How colossally I had failed.

I folded my clothes and piled them on the floor. Then I sat down on the edge of the bed, and Noa crawled forward and sat next to me.

“Okay, so maybe you’re wondering why we’re here,” Noa said. “It’s important you listen to me now because I’ve rehearsed a speech. Sort of. I mean, Daddy and Kingsley gave me a list of three things to tell you, but I have no pockets in my puppy briefs for notes. You know how it is.”

My mouth twitched with amusement.

“Anyway. Number one.” He held up a finger. “In case the lines between play and reality became too blurry during the interrogation, the domly types wanted a barrier that marked the end of one part and the beginning of another. And that’s where I come in. Number two, the interrogation isn’t over. Consider this a change of topics.”

I nodded slowly, not sure I understood fully, but I got the gist. Things had become serious in there. My guilt, my conflicted emotions toward Tate and Kingsley—and everything that’d transpired between us—were very much real.


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