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)
He licked his way down Sharpe’s chest, biting at his nipples until the detective hissed and clawed at his shoulders.
Sharpe was all dark growls and low curses, every inch the alpha who wanted to dominate—but all suppressed submissive craving Lincoln’s control.
“Please…don’t shoot.”
Lincoln froze.
Axel’s voice rang out, clear and panicked from the darkness.
Lincoln surged up, every nerve flaring into a panic so sharp it tasted like blood—Axel. His light. His baby brother was in danger.
He started to rise from the water, but Sharpe’s hand shot up, fisting in his hair and yanking him down, his voice a brutal whisper at his ear.
“Quiet. Running toward them won’t help.”
Lincoln’s eyes flicked past him as his blood ran cold.
Axel. With a taller man in bulky layers of clothes glued to his side.
Then he saw the man cloaked in layers of black, a gun gleaming in the dim security lights, pressed into Axel’s back.
They were being marched forward, the barrel forcing Axel toward the house’s patio doors.
Lincoln’s chest cracked wide open, terror a living thing clawing at his insides.
No, god, please.
No one was supposed to touch Axel, to even look at him with malice. He was too good, too bright. The thought of him bleeding out in the sand—Lincoln almost lost it.
Sharpe’s grip turned bruising. His other arm locked around his chest.
“If you jump out there, naked and screaming, that asshole will panic. And Axel gets shot. You keep your ass right here.”
I have to do something!
Lincoln was shaking, teeth clenched so hard they hurt, his whole body fighting to move. But he could only watch, paralyzed, as the gunman snarled at Axel.
“Get the door open. Now.”
Lincoln’s heart broke as Axel’s trembling fingers punched the code into the back gate panel. The keypad beeped, the lock released, and the two strangers and Axel disappeared inside.
The instant they were gone, Sharpe launched out of the water, dragging Lincoln with him, his face all sharp lines and command.
“Call 911. I have to get upstairs to my weapon,” he ordered, in a calm voice. “Do not move from this spot until I come get you. I can’t concentrate if I think you’re in danger too.”
Lincoln was trembling too hard to argue. He grabbed his phone, water dripping onto the screen, obeying without hesitation.
Sharpe was already disappearing into the dark, his bare feet silent as a predator’s as he headed for where his gun was stashed.
Lincoln’s heart slammed into his ribs.
The operator answered on the first ring, and Lincoln began pleading.
Belladonna Mansion
Thorn’s Office
Virginia Beach Oceanfront
February 17th, 10:42 p.m.
Thorn had been at his desk far longer than he’d meant to. His inbox was finally caught up, his PIs had the information they’d requested, and he’d just hit the button to power down his laptop when his phone chimed again.
Thorn rolled his eyes as he clicked on Lucas’s third message he’d left since he’d gone upstairs.
I’ve been more than patient. If you’re not up here in two minutes, I’m starting without you.
A chuckle rumbled from Thorn’s chest. That man.
He slipped his glasses off, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
He already pictured Lucas sprawled out on his bed, shirtless, in tight black briefs, wearing that devilish grin.
The creak of the office door made him laugh. “I said I was coming, lover—”
The words died in his throat as Axel stumbled in, face streaked with tears, looking broken and terrified.
Thorn shot up from behind his desk and raced toward him.
“Honey, what’s the matter? Did you—”
Axel was shoved so hard from behind that his knees buckled and he crashed to the floor.
“Axel!”
Thorn lurched forward but froze when another man came barreling in after him, throwing himself over Axel’s back.
The stranger’s glare was like a shard of glass when he turned toward the shadow filling Thorn’s doorway.
“If you touch him again,” the man snarled, shielding Axel with his whole body, “it’ll take every bullet in that fuckin’ gun to stop me from slamming your head into the wall.”
Thorn’s heart stuttered. Everything was happening too damn fast.
A figure stepped inside, hood low, gun leveled directly at him.
Thorn raised his hands as the gunman pulled his hood back.
Thorn’s stomach bottomed out.
“…Evan,” he gasped.
He stumbled back a step, eyes darting between Axel, who was trying to rise to his feet, and the protective stranger keeping him close.
Evan’s lip curled, his eyes feral and gleaming with hate.
“Bet you didn’t expect this, huh? Thought you were safe behind your fortress of heartbreakers.”
Thorn’s throat went dry. “Evan, listen to me…let Axel go. This is between you and me. He’s never hurt you.”
“That’s the only reason he doesn’t have a bullet in his head already,” Evan snapped. “You? You’re the one who deserves to die.”
Axel cried out, twisting against the arms that held him. “No, please! Don’t hurt him!”
He tried to run forward, but the man holding him locked down harder, hiding Axel’s face against his chest, muffling his desperate sobs.