Rough Exile - Page 1

Chapter One

Myleftshoewas missing.

I groped around for it in the dark, then shrugged. The cleaning staff would find it and return it to the stylists. After a moment’s consideration, I put down my right shoe near the nightstand. It would probably be easier for them if I left both shoes in the same room.

Yawning, I glanced back at the bed. The impressive pile of muscle looked like it was asleep, but he might just be ignoring me.

It wasn’t like I was expecting flowers.

I’d already forgotten his name. He was pretty but had nothing else going for him other than being rich. It was like that with some of these guys—their money was their entire personality.

Despite the late hour, the sound of sex still filled the halls. I wouldn’t be the only woman asking medical for some of their miracle cream to take the edge off her soreness in the morning.

As I passed through the cavernous ballroom that linked the predator’s wing to the prey’s, the wall of windows showcased the breathtaking night sky. I’d grown up in the city with parents who were always working, so I’d never been camping. My first tour on the Island had been my very first vacation, and the sight of so many stars had transfixed me and had me gazing out at them every night, always hungry to see more.

Maybe an astronomer could look up at those stars and tell us approximately where we were in the world, but none of the women I’d met on my four tours here had known how to navigate that way. I’d tried looking it up once, back home, but I’d never figured it out.

I’d been heading to my room, but there was no rush.

The terrace was magical at night. It was a shame they never held events out here in the dark. The wind had picked up, carrying fresh ocean air. Sometimes, when I was home—especially in winter—I lay in bed and dreamed about this place. I couldn’t afford a resort vacation, but this? Food, drinks, and hot, dominant men. How could a resort compare?

Sure, I couldn’t always choose my sex partners, and sometimes things got too rough, even for me, but I actually liked it here. Not that I could tell people that. My strategy of sleeping with men on my free days meant that most of them took it easy on me when they could make my life a living hell.

Poor Lane couldn’t bring herself to do it, and the target on her back was only getting bigger. I’d rolled out of my sex partner’s bed to go check on her, but something told me to wait until morning. The last thing I wanted to do was interrupt her and her two shadows. The poor girl probably thought she was going home after this tour scot-free, but if those guys didn’t follow her home and sweep her off her feet, I’d eat my missing shoe.

Freaking Lane. She thought of herself as less attractive than the taller girls here, and yet Ajax and Calder wouldn’t leave her alone. I always had to wait my turn to hang out with her.

It never would have crossed my mind to look for a best friend in this place, and it had only been a few weeks, but sometimes you could just tell when someone was going to be important in your life.

I leaned on the stone wall, looking out at the astronomical miracle shining on the jungle below.

A nearby movement caught my eye, and my prey instincts made me stumble back.

Two shadowy figures stood so close I wasn’t sure how I hadn’t noticed them. Both men, judging by their height and bulk.

“What do you want?” I demanded.

One man chuckled. “Only to continue the conversation we were having before you interrupted.”

Oops.

I studied them, trying to place the voice, the accent, and the general size and shape.

“Sorry. I didn’t realize anyone was out here.”

“We thought everyone else was asleep. I suppose whores don’t always get to choose their own hours.”

Ugh. Asshole.

Tags: Sorcha Black Crime
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