Reaper's Wrath (Road to Salvation A Last Rider's Trilogy 2)
“Come on. Are we going to do this or not?”
“Slate told us to hang tight until he contacted us again.”
“I didn’t marry Slate, and the last time we used him, the piece of crap he gave us wasn’t anything to brag about. Of course he’s not going to want us to find someone else—he won’t be pocketing the money we’re giving him.
“I’m going. You can stay here if you want,” she hissed through pinched lips. “I’ll tell you what you missed when I come back.”
“I’m coming.” He reluctantly got out of the car and walked up the steps with Lena to knock on the front door.
Anxiously waiting, he was about to tell her that he would wait for her in the car when the door opened, exposing a man wearing shorts.
Desire overrode his worry. Deep down, this was why he had stayed married to the horny bitch. The sensual man opening the door wider for them was fucking sex on a fucking stick, or he would be when he was finished with him. He thought about the whip he bought with a dual purpose in mind.
“I have everything set up for us downstairs.”
“Downstairs?” Lena was the one hesitating, stopping them from going down the carpeted stairs he led them to off the expensively furnished living room. The sixty-five-inch television hanging on the wall was the latest in technology.
“We can do it up here if you want.” He shrugged. “You paid extra for me videotaping us, and my camera is set up downstairs. The only reason I set up downstairs is the guest bedroom is larger than mine.
“Whitney and Derek said you might be skittish the first time. If you want, we can have a couple of drinks and reschedule for another time. I wasn’t too keen to doing this, anyway, with the virus going around. Of course, if we do reschedule, I don’t give refunds—”
“Never mind,” Lena said anxiously when no refund was mentioned.
The man took off, and they followed him down the steps, his lean, muscled back on display.
The basement was decorated in the same style as the living room with another television mounted down there with theater chairs placed in front. There was even a fucking popcorn machine set to the side.
“You want some popcorn? I just made it a couple of hours ago,” he asked inanely as he went to an open door on the side of the room. The room was set up just the way Lena had requested. “Take your coats off.” The man motioned to a small fridge. “Make us a drink. It’ll loosen us up.”
Lena went to the small fridge, taking out premixed cocktails in little bottles.
“I’ll take the Mai Tai.”
“Bob?” she asked, using the fictitious name they had decided on.
“Whatever you think I’ll like.” Laying his coat on a chair, Aaron started unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes on the thick bulge under the navy shorts the man was wearing.
Giving the man on the bed his Mai Tai, Lena opened her bottle to take a sip, waiting for Aaron to finish removing his clothes.
Carry the bottle of Punching Kangaroo to the bed, Aaron sat down. Taking a drink, he ran his hand down the man’s muscled thigh as Lena started to undress. Lustfully watching the muscles on the man’s throat work as he swallowed, Aaron felt his erection swell.
“Abby said your name is Bob.” Taking another drink, he edged his hand under the leg of the man’s shorts.
The man caught and placed on his knee. “Let’s wait for Abby, then I’ll start recording.”
“Almost there.”
Aaron turned at the sound of a thump on the carpet, seeing his wife had passed out. Jumping up, he grabbed his head at the wave of dizziness hitting him, sending him to his knees. Stupidly staring at the drink that was spilling onto the carpet, he looked up to see the man they had come here to fuck get off the bed to stare down at them with hatred pouring out of his eyes. “Fuck,” he gurgled out.
“Yes, you are.”
* * *
Lena woke up, then wished she stayed passed out. Lightheaded, she managed to raise herself onto her elbows to stare in terror at the room she had never seen before.
Seeing her husband lying on the dirt floor, she started crawling toward him. As she moved, her head began to clear, and it became easier to move. Managing to sit up by her husband’s side, she started shaking him.
“Wake up!” she screamed, becoming more terrified the longer Aaron took to wake. “Wake up!”
Lena laid her head on his chest, trying to hear for a heartbeat and sobbing out when she felt him moving under her ear. Rising, she shook him harder, crying louder when Aaron opened his eyes.
“Get up!” she screeched. “You’ve got to get us out of here.”
Helping him sit up, she crawled behind him at the sound of a door opening across the room.