Beneath the Burn

She’d lived with one of the richest men in the world and never experienced extravagance on this level. None of it was visible from her cell. She’d been nothing more than a pet. No, not even that. Rich people pampered their pets. She stared at her Doc Martens in a harrowing moment of clarity, and fuck her, but it stung.

Nathan scanned something on his phone and returned it to his pocket. “Charlee?” He narrowed his eyes.

Damn him and his awareness. “Just having a little awed moment. Sheltered girl, you know?” She pointed at herself.

His eyes narrowed. Yeah, sheltered was a nice way to put it.

Laz moved to the double doors. “We took the security team out with us tonight, which means Jay’s been in there without a chaperone for a few hours. Mind waiting here for a minute?”

What, was he twelve? She rubbed a sweaty palm on her jeans. “We’ll wait.”

When the doors snicked behind him, she leaned against the wall and tried to still her racing heart.

Nathan mimicked her lean beside her. He seemed strangely calm as he eyed her.

She rolled onto her shoulder to face him. “Why aren’t you lecturing me about my bad decision-making?”

“Maybe I’m impressed with their security.” He nodded his chin to the ceiling. “Cameras at every bend and doorway, the high-tech security gate at the garage entrance, and the preparedness of the bodyguards when we left the restaurant blows me away.” A shrug. “Crane just sent a text. He hasn’t found anything on the band or their staff to cause suspicion.” He smiled. “Enfolded in all these safety measures is a nice change.”

Oh, the things money could buy. The relief in his words melted over her. “The way to Nathan Winslow’s heart is through impressive protection.”

“True story.”

Their smiles were interrupted by the whoosh of the doors. Laz stuck his head out and looked at Nathan. “Can you…uh…help me a minute?”

She moved with Nathan and Laz blocked her entrance. “Just Nathan, okay?”

Her teeth sawed together. “I can handle it, whatever it is.”

“Maybe.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, took a deep breath, and met her gaze. “Jay wouldn’t want you to. Man’s ego and all that.”

Nathan wedged himself between them. “I prefer she stays with me.”

“The suite is locked down—”

“Let me in, Laz.” She stepped to the side and held his weary eyes.

A moan rumbled from behind him. A woman’s moan. It hit her like fingers digging around in her innards, stirring up feelings she didn’t have the right to act on.

Laz glanced over his shoulder and back at her. “You sure?”

Was she? She’d only met Jay once and had been through hell and back since that meeting. And how screwed up would it be for Jay if she walked in on something embarrassing? Depending on what she saw, he may not ever want to talk to her again.

Dammit. She needed to wrangle in her self-doubt. Famous Jay Mayard held an all-you-can-eat VIP pass to the * buffet, good for every night in every town. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about entangling her emotions in whatever waited on the other side of the door. Images of his feasting chased her heart far, far away.

She jerked her chin in a stubborn nod and followed him through the door.





21


Charlee strode through the suite, head high, shoulders back, and stomach rolling. The moaning grew closer and laughter joined it. Her ankle wobbled, and she righted her gait without slowing.

“Jaaaaay.” A second woman.

Another foyer opened to a dining room set for a royal court. How many damned foyers were in this place? The gold-plated light fixtures, hand-carved mahogany chairs, and tinkling crystal glasses made her want to hold her breath for fear of breaking something. She wanted to break something.

She was thankful they skipped that room until they arrived in the living room. It exuded the same stuffy air with marble fireplaces and silk embroidered couches too sumptuous to sit on.

Her focus narrowed on the grand piano and the two naked women tied to the top of it.

“Holy guacamole, it’s Laz Bromwell. Untie us, Laz.”

“Or fuck us.” The other one laughed.

Did Jay restrain them? Whether they were willing or not, if that kind of thing turned him on, what else was he into? Would it be a scene like the Doms she played with? Or something more comparable to Roy’s breed of kink. She tensed against a shiver.

The first one jerked her hips. “Jay left like an hour ago. Come on, baby. We’re dying here.”

She couldn’t see the mouths that were polluting the air. She couldn’t see anything beyond the spread legs and the gaping vaginas. The light from the chandelier illuminated their glistening slits. Cloudy-white globs drenched their crevices from knees to hips. Oh, God. Jay had been there, in there, all over there.

A wave of disgust swept through her. The kind of disgust that seeped from open sewers. Maybe his dick would rot off.

Where was her sense of ownership over him coming from? What the hell was wrong with her? She couldn’t stop her cheeks from heating, her body from shaking, or the progression of vicious thoughts storming through her head.

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