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“No. And let a man get the best of you?” She shakes her head. “I’ve got a better idea. Real introductions. I’ve let you hide out long enough. Time to present the real Dakota Hunt to the world.”
With that, she leads me back through the empty ballroom and over to the other side of the house, one that’s alive with noise and laughter, like where we went to eat earlier.
But Amelia doesn’t stop there. She drags me past that group and up another staircase, one I wouldn’t have noticed because it’s not off the main hallway. There’s a small room at the top. It’s full of men. Some of them have half-dressed girls on their laps or between their knees, and before Amelia can say a thing, she’s grabbed by the hair and hauled into a dark corner where two men descend on her. I swallow a yelp. They tug off her clothes, touching her, exposing her.
I throw up a little bit in my mouth.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
My eyes dart around, panic assaulting my mind as the images in the dim room come into focus. Girls in the skimpiest outfits grind on top of men who have hands between their legs and— Oh God. Is this some kind of sex den?
Memories of the orgy room from the yacht swim in my head, fuzzy at the edges, the only clear and sharp part of it being Jaxson.
This room is full of men and young girls. I think there might be a boy in a corner, but I’m too busy trying to edge my way out to figure it out for sure.
This place isn’t about mutual pleasure.
It reeks of power, imbalance. It’s a place where these men rule.
I stumble backward in my haste to get away from it all. Someone grabs me, stroking the underside of my arm. “Dakota Hunt. The little online star.”
“You’re prettier in person,” says a man old enough to be a great grandfather as he shoves a hand into the top of my dress. I cringe and he frowns. “She’s wearing underwear.”
“Maybe,” another man says after downing a drink and picking up his cigar. “She lives up to her name.” His leer makes my skin feel as if it’s covered in slimy slugs. “Do you like being hunted?”
“Not by you.”
The words are a slap in the air and silence falls over the group for a long minute. Then they all laugh.
“It’s going to be fun breaking her in.”
The guy who’s old as dirt cups my ass cheek and squeezes. “Are you a virgin?”
I slap his hand away and try to twist around them, but they’ve closed me in, my back pressed to a wall. “Leave me alone.”
A man grabs my chin and hauls it up. “She’s got an innocence about her. Good to see it’s not just in those damn videos she posts.”
“She’s used to the camera.” Another man laughs. “Can’t wait to make her a special movie star.”
“Are you tight?”
I don’t recognize these men. They weren’t on the yacht, and I don’t remember seeing them here earlier, either.
My heart thumps hard in my chest as I ward off their hands. “That’s none of your business.”
“But it is,” says the one with the cigar hanging out of his mouth. “Even your asshole’s our business.”
I dip my head and sink my teeth into the man whose hand is in my dress. I bite down until I taste blood. He yells, pulling away from me. I don’t think. I don’t stop to look. I just run. I run like there are demons after me. And the only thing that follows is laughter.
Somehow, I make it back to my room. Since there’s no lock, I shove a heavy chair under the handle to wedge the door closed.
I take a few shuddering breaths to slow my breathing. Each gulp of air slices at my lungs like shards of the sharpest glass.
Clenching my hands, I stare at the door, hating the fact that there’s nothing I can do, nowhere I can go?—
“Not true. Jaxson’s here. And Smith sent him.” I say the words to myself almost as reassurance that I’m not alone with these horrific people.
Unless I’m wrong. Unless Jaxson’s just as evil as these other men, and my body flares to life around him because he’s hot, and because I have a hell of a lot of screws loose.
