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Triple Threat (Deception Duet 1)

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She goes quiet for a moment as she mulls this over. “And then you’ll let me go to bed?”

The nerves are back in her voice, barely hidden beneath her feigned annoyance. This is special. It will be special because she’s special.

“Yeah, babe. I’ll let you go to bed after you come all over your fingers. I promise you’ll enjoy yourself. And with how wound up you always are, you could stand to let off a little steam.”

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Do you need a definition of the word fine?”

“Your bitchiness is hot.”

“I hate you,” she grumbles, though I don’t believe it at all.

“Nah, you love me. Time to play.”

I close my eyes, trying to imagine her atop her bed with her small hand rubbing at her pussy. It’s a tantalizing fantasy—one I’m going to make a reality soon.

“I bet your clit is throbbing,” I purr. “Pulsating because it needs to be sucked and bitten.”

She scoffs. “You would bite my clit?”

“Fuck yeah, babe. I’m a biter. Now pinch it. Right now.”

“This is weird,” she complains, breathless.

“No, it’s hot. Pinch. Now.”

She whimpers, which means she’s obeying like a good girl, and I have to strangle the base of my cock to keep from coming right then.

“It’d feel just like that. But sharper. Use your fingernails.”

“That’ll hurt.”

“In a good way, Laundry. I need to hear that sexy sound again.”

I’m rewarded with a pained moan that’s laced with pleasure. Fucking hell. Her innocence is intoxicating. I want to drown in it.

“Ford,” she whines.

What I wouldn’t give right now to have her saying my real name right now. Sparrow. All whimpers and mewls and moans making love to my name. Fuck, I want that.

“Keep going, pretty girl. I want to come all over my hand imagining it’s my fingers touching you rather than your own.”

It doesn’t take much coaxing before she’s crying out in pleasure. I follow on the heels of her orgasm, shooting hot semen all over my bare chest. Fuck, that felt good, but it was only a taste. I want more from this girl. A whole lot more.

“You okay?” I ask, my own chest heaving with ragged breaths.

“Mmhmm.”

I grin at the thought of rendering her speechless. “It would have been so much more fun watching you.”

“I think I’ve been your entertainment enough for one day.”

“And, to think, we have the rest of our lives,” I taunt. “Just me and you until the end, babe.”

“You’re lucky I feel…” She sighs. “Sleepy.”

“Sleepy? Laundry, you wound me. I took your phone sex virginity and you’re sleepy? My ego can’t take any more bruises.”

“Your ego is needy.”

“It likes stroking—”

“Time to hang up now, Chevy,” she mutters, unable to hold back a laugh which makes me crack up in response.

Our laughter fades away to silence, aside from her soft breathing. For once, I keep my mouth shut and just listen.

“And, yes,” she whispers, so softly I almost don’t hear, “it was my dad who hit me. I have my reasons for staying, but if I can allow you to walk me through an orgasm, I think I can trust you with the truth. Can I trust you?”

“You can.” My words are icy and all a lie. “See you Friday.”

I end the call before I do or say something stupid. All I can think about is some grown-ass man backhanding Landry. Sure, she’s a frosty bitch a lot of the time, but she’s also delicate and sweet. For her own father to hit her…it’s inexcusable.

I swipe the come off me with my towel and then quickly dress in some black jeans and matching hoodie. Flinging open my bedroom door, I find Scout standing on the other side, his hands gripping the doorframe above his head. Evil glints in his dark gaze as he studies me. The sick fucker was listening in on…hell, probably all of it.

“Smells like sex and revenge,” Scout says, flashing me a wild grin. “Who do we get to hurt?”

“You fucking know. Grab Sully. We’re leaving in five.”

It’s time to pay a certain rich piece of shit a visit.

Chapter Fifteen

Scout

Someone should take Sparrow’s license away.

“Jesus, Sparrow,” Sully barks from the backseat. “I’d like to arrive in one piece.”

Sparrow ignores him, choosing to crank up the volume, blasting us with “Kamikazee” by Missio. He’s in a mood. Ever since Sully came home bragging about sucking face with this girl.

My phone buzzes with a text.

Ty: I have some bougie event I gotta attend this weekend. Kill me now.

No can do, Constantine. Big Morelli won’t let me.

Me: You’re a Constantine. Don’t you come out of the womb with a cigar in one hand and a cognac in the other, bougie boy?

He sends me a bunch of middle finger emojis to which I reply back with crying laughing emojis. Sully didn’t think I could do this shit, but it’s easy. The guy is so damn needy to have a friend that he eats up every morsel I toss at him.



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