Page 122 of Trapped Truth

“Please. I want you.”

“All yours, love. Now and forever.”

His other hand clasps around my wrists, raising them above my head to be locked against the wall. I could break the hold easily, but the power move shoots liquid need straight through my veins.

Held in place, Warner rocks into me, delivering each pump through panted breaths. My nipples tighten into electric prods underneath my long-sleeved tee. If he doesn’t stop teasing me, I might just implode.

“Please,” I whine again.

“Will you be this needy for the rest of our lives?”

“Yes.”

His tongue snakes over my lips. “Good. I love it.”

I’m prepared to climb him like a tree and take exactly what I want when somewhere behind us, a throat clears loudly. Warner hides his face in my neck with a long sigh while I look over his shoulder.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Blaine leans against the handrail. “But there are nicer accommodations for whatever it is you’re doing here.”

“Since when?” I frown.

“We have a temporary living space upstairs.”

At that, Warner perks up. “Where?”

“For the right price, I’d be willing to show you.”

I meet Warner’s suddenly intense gaze and smile. After being sandwiched between him and Hyland, the prospect of sharing hasn’t left my nightly dreams. Though this combination is one I hadn’t even considered possible.

“Lead the way.” Warner motions for Blaine to join us.

“Sure about that?” Blaine is focused on me.

“If you are… Phantom?”

His mouth hooks up in a sinister smirk. “Follow me.”

We climb the stairs upward, into the rafters of the old distillery. I allow Warner to tug me forwards. Not sure I’ve ever seen him so eager to follow Blaine anywhere.

Upstairs, a labyrinth of corridors are filled with more relics of the past. Nothing appears to have been touched in decades. Not until a clear path opens up between the remnants, leading to a wooden door on an ancient sliding mechanism.

“How long have you owned this place?” Warner doesn’t release my hand.

“Officially? I don’t own it at all.”

“Give it up, Blaine. I know your tricks by now.”

“Hah. It’s registered to a subsidiary of multiple nested corporations, none of them tied to the Madden empire or my father’s legacy. The last clean place left available now, I suppose.”

“You stashed people here?” I ask him.

Hefting the door aside, Blaine gestures for us to enter. “I should’ve stationed everyone here, but space is limited, and it felt too risky to all be under one roof. If I had, perhaps Raye would still be alive.”

“You can’t think like that. It isn’t fair.”

“Reality never is,” he combats.

The hidden room is a lofty, wide open space that stretches to the industrial heights of the raftered ceiling. Debris has been cleared to make way for a rickety table and chairs, while a bare-bones bed is nestled in the corner with a clear view of the only entrance and exit.