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)
With Lucas’s chest so close to his, Thorn thought he finally understood what safe was supposed to smell like.
As he took Lucas’s hand, he felt the steel cage around his heart rattle on its hinges.
Shit. Lucas is supposed to be for Lincoln…not me.
End of Season One Episode Two
Season 1, Episode 3
The Unexpected
Belladonna Mansion
Virginia Beach Oceanfront
Galan flipped the elegant business card back and forth in his hand, then frowned at his Uber driver. “Are you sure this is the correct address?”
“It is.” The driver met his eyes in the rearview mirror.
“Jesus.” Galan gaped at the beautiful oceanside mansion.
The place loomed like a temple of glass and magic, its windows catching the glimmer of the moonlight.
“Ninety-Fifth Street, Atlantic Avenue.” The driver double-checked the directions on his phone app before nodding again in confirmation. “It says you have arrived at your destination.”
There is no way this is his place.
Galan hadn’t been able to take his mind off the sub—Casey—who he’d met last week at the club. Well, sort of met.
His brief encounter with the confident man had triggered a physical response he hadn’t felt in months. So, he had to at least have a meeting with him to see if what he’d felt had been a fluke or the start of something promising.
It was almost embarrassing how his body remembered Casey’s nearness and his scent when he’d walked by. That fucking powdery-soft scent that’d clung to him like a promise.
Galan hadn’t let himself crave someone like that in months, but he did now, against all better judgment.
Their introduction had been over far too quickly for him to gauge how old Casey was. But he couldn’t have been old enough to have earned all of this.
Oh God. Unless he’s a trust-fund brat with fuckin’ daddy issues.
Though Casey hadn’t presented himself that way at all.
Galan grunted. Sitting in the backseat of his cab wasn’t going to satisfy his curiosity.
He stepped out onto the cobblestone driveway as a cool, salty breeze caressed his face.
He slammed the door closed and waited until the taillights of the car had disappeared around the bend before he took a step toward the frosted glass doors.
He inhaled deeply, trying to ready his mind for whatever was about to happen. Meeting a sub was just as nerve-racking for him as it probably was for the boy. They weren’t the ones expected to make a good first impression.
Casey had already nailed that. Now, Galan supposed it was his turn.
A good first impression for him wasn’t about a display of his dominance. It was about reassurance. And yet, here he was, adjusting his tie like an insecure freshman on the first day of school, wondering if Casey would see right through his desperation.
The sprawling home looked as if it were made of mostly windows. The lighting inside was a warm orange hue, not the brilliant white lights he would have expected, which made the exterior appear even sexier than it was.
He could see a massive glass chandelier suspended between two grand staircases that joined in the middle before leading to the bottom floor.
Galan took the last steps up to the wide porch and rang the doorbell.
He slid one hand into the pocket of his slacks, trying to appear at ease, but his heart slammed against his rib cage like a two-ton wrecking ball.
Thorn Blackwell opened the door instead of the devilishly beautiful boy he’d come to see.
Galan had met with Thorn twice after a friend from the club had recommended it. He hadn’t known what to think of the striking man or his offer.
Thorn had explained his home was a retreat for men like him, and there was something very special waiting for Galan within its walls. He’d made it sound too good to be true—a fairytale—so Galan had still been thinking it over, unsure if he was going to take him up on his invitation, then he’d met Casey last week and wanted to explore that first.
Now he was confused as fuck.
Disappointment cut through him sharp and painful.
He wasn’t there for Thorn’s enigmatic promises. He was there for the boy whose submissive gaze in baby-blue eyes had slowed the bleeding inside him.
Seeing Thorn instead of Casey felt like being handed an empty glass when he’d been dying of thirst.
Thorn stepped to the side and opened the door, making a sweeping gesture with his other arm.
“Please come in, Dr. Briggs.” Thorn ran his hand down the lapel of his sleek onyx-black suit, an amused tilt to his full lips. “Well, it seems Casey decided to take matters into his own hands. I told him you were still deciding and to be patient. I guess he didn’t take my advice.”
With a deep frown, Galan walked inside.
The house smelled of money, refinement, and something darker—a potent aroma in the air that suggested pleasure waited behind every closed door.