Page 62 of Come Find Me Tonight

“Hey.”

Oh, thank God.

“This is Robby. Leave a message.”

Straight to voicemail. The beep and subsequent silence on the line sink my heart into my stomach. What do I do now? Call LAPD? How do I not have location sharing with Robby?

A shadow fills the doorway with a familiar set of broad shoulders and height. I let out a scream of surprise, but I know that body.

Relief hits harder than fear.

He rips the towel from me, tossing it to the side. “Knees,” he instructs. “Now, Baby Girl.”

Ugh, the baby girl name that makes me cringe.

But Robby doesn’t call me baby girl.

“I thought you were too tired?” I ask as if I’m talking to my boyfriend.

“You need to be taught a lesson. Knees. I won’t fucking ask again.”

Mm, happily.

Thank God he can’t see the mischievous smile I have right now. I settle onto my knees on the cold bathroom tile, sitting on my crossed heels. I hear a zipper, and he rests his cock on my face. He’s as long as my face but always fits perfectly.

“Remember, I respect the hell out of you, but it won’t look like it tonight,” he whispers.

Sir, what?

“Open.”

Before I can argue, he hastily slips himself into my mouth as far as he’ll go, and he tastes yummy. My eyes tear as my gag reflex tries to reject him, but I don’t want him to pull out until my tongue memorizes every vein.

This is starting like last time.

That thought causes me to tremble, but I’m not sure if it’s good or bad. He grips the curls at the back of my head and holds me in place, forcing himself down my throat. I breathe through my nose as tears track down my cheeks. He knots my hair in his hand and moves me back and forth on him, and I get acclimated and fall into his rhythm. If this were Robby, I would tug on his balls or touch his thighs, but I don’t know what Rook wants.

Hmm, maybe I do need to be taught a lesson.

I move my hand from my thigh and reach for his balls. Robby likes them rolled together a certain way, so that’s what I replicate now. I gently roll the perfect, heavy spheres together, and I hear him groan.

Knew it.

He withdraws from my mouth. “I didn’t ask you to do that,” he says.

“I know.”

He grabs my upper arm, hard enough that I’ll find fingerprints tomorrow, and brings me to my feet. He clears off the bathroom counter, making bottles and jars crash to the floor. Nothing should be breakable, but who cares? Rook’s here!

He bends me over onto the bathroom counter, pressing my cheek into the biting cold granite. He’s between my legs before my head stops spinning.

“Don’t move,” he warns.

Rook runs his fingers through my slickness, dipping them inside and making that ‘come here’ motion that makes me squirm. I try to hold still, but my knees weaken whenever he pulls that move. His two fingers inside me are filling, but I can think of something even more so. I wiggle my butt, wanting him to take me. “I said, don’t move.” His hand contacting my butt cheek makes a loud slap noise, and the sting makes me gasp. “Will you behave?”

“Probably not,” I quickly answer.

“Bad girls don’t get fucked.” He removes his fingers and presses one against the resistance of my other hole. I take in a sharp breath. He could take it there if he wanted to, and I couldn’t do anything about it.