Clipped Wings (Clipped Wings, #1)

“Obviously whoever it is wasn’t having multiple orgasms until one in the morning,” I groused and reached for the offending device.

I managed to turn off the volume before Hayden snaked an arm around my waist and dragged me across the bed. The phone bounced off the mattress and clattered to the floor.

Hayden’s leg came over mine as he pulled me into him. His erection pressed against my hip. He put his head on my chest. His hair was sticking out all over the place, having dried funnily after our middle-of-the-night romp. I ran my fingers through it, trying to force it into submission, but it refused to comply. Every time he exhaled, he purposely blew across my nipple.

“I need a shower,” I said. My skin felt sticky from all the sweat. The sheets were just as bad.

“You smell perfectly good to me,” he said, nibbling on my shoulder. “You taste good, too.”

My phone vibrated on the floor, preventing my snappy retort.

“Seriously?” Hayden asked. “What is that? The tenth time this morning?”

I rolled to the edge of the bed and snatched my phone from the floor. “Hello?”

“So you’re not in an Ativan coma. That’s an improvement.”

My scalp prickled and goose bumps rose along my arms, spreading over my skin.

Hayden’s hand smoothed up my calf. “Tell whoever it is to fuck off. I’m in the middle of an experiment,” he said and bit my ankle.

“Is there someone with you?” Trey asked, suspicious.

I covered the receiver with one hand and jerked my leg out of Hayden’s grasp, shaking my head violently. He frowned.

“I need to take this,” I mouthed and turned away.

My knees trembled as I slipped off the bed and crossed the room, heading for the bathroom. I closed the door and sank to the floor.

“Answer me, Tenley. Whoever is with you sounds distinctly male.”

“The TV was on,” I lied. My hands were shaking, along with my voice.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t particularly care if you believe me or not.”

“Are you fucking someone?”

“Pardon me?”

“It’s a straightforward question. I don’t believe it requires repeating.”

“It also doesn’t require a response,” I bit back.

He laughed in that condescending way only he could. “I’ll take that as a no. Are you lonely out there, Tenley?”

“What do you want?” He couldn’t know about Hayden. My stomach turned at the thought. Trey was already hostile; he didn’t need any more ammunition.

“You’ve been avoiding my calls. I’ve left six messages, and all of them have gone unanswered. I expected that document signed and on my desk a month ago, and it’s still not here,” he said icily. “I’ve been more than patient. You’ve had plenty of time to review the paperwork with a lawyer out there.”

“I told you I’m not ready.”

“Frankly, Tenley, I don’t give a shit if you’re ready or not. It’s been ten months. If you hadn’t spent the first five after the accident drugged to the point of psychosis, maybe you’d be better prepared to handle this.”

“Well, I’m not prepared.” I marshaled all the false confidence I could. “I have no intention of signing over the house right now. When I’m ready, if I’m ready, I’ll let you know.”

“Not acceptable. I have no qualms about contesting Connor’s will. That property belongs to me, and you will sign those papers, even if it means I have to subpoena you to make it happen. We can go that route, but cases like these can drag out for months, sometimes years.” He sighed, like he was bored with the turn in the conversation. When he spoke again, his tone changed, soft and menacing. “I have my doubts about you handling the emotional strain of something like that. Imagine how detrimental it would be if you fell back into old habits? All that medication you were taking, you could hardly function.”

“I was in pain,” I whispered, submerged in the sudden rush of memories.

Trey had a way of twisting things around to make me out to be the villain. He had been the one to pick up the multitude of prescriptions for me. In the fog of physical and emotional agony it had seemed like he’d meant to help. But I’d learned long ago that Trey’s motives were always self-serving. By keeping me sedated, he’d been able to manipulate situations to his advantage and my disadvantage.

“How many times did I find you in my brother’s bedroom, crying so hard you couldn’t breathe? It became exceedingly tedious. Don’t make me call again—you won’t like what happens. Get your shit together and send me the paperwork.”

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