Page 32 of Their Tracked Obsession

“I’ll take that as a yes.” The last word came out as a hiss.

Saint ambled toward me, and his body language was on fire. A mix of cockiness, amusement, and horniness. I caught the hard bulge in the crotch of his pants. I was right on the money.

“Or could it have been all the thrusting?” Saint asked as he pulled the helmet from my head and tapped the tip of my nose. “I think the thruster got our girl going.”

“Nah, man.” Sin squeezed his best friend’s shoulder. “I’d wager her pussy loved your push-ups.”

“Wanna make a bet?” Saint glanced back at Sin and then at me. “Because if I had to take a gamble, I think it was a combination of all three.”

“Fuck. Game on.” Sin slapped Saint on the back.

I didn’t realize I had been biting my lower lip until Saint ran the pad of his thumb over the skin and released it. He wiped the wetness from his finger down underneath my chin and forcefully tilted it up. My breath caught.

I locked eyes on his mouth. Eager. Wanting.

I waited. So goddamn impatiently like a bitch in heat out on the street. No one was there to feed my starvation because no one else could. Only my phantoms.

Saint inched his lips closer and breathed, “So what was it, darling? Tell us. What made you soak the fucking seat?”

“You,” I admitted with my hands clinging to the metal post behind me. “Both of you.”

“My hog too?” Sin whispered in my ear. “I bet your cunt loved the way she purred beneath your thighs.”

I glanced at Sin, and Saint caressed his lips softly against my cheek. I swallowed, closed my eyes as his mouth traveled down my neckline and back up to graze my ear.

“Answer him,” Saint hissed.

“Yes. I loved all of it. Every damn minute,” I heaved breathlessly.

“Good girl.” Sin relieved my hand clenching the post and intertwined his fingers with mine. “Shall we keep the juices flowing?”

“Yes, please,” Saint answered.

Saint took my other hand. My eyes opened as my men guided me toward the main entrance of the bakery. I couldn’t stop the shudder running havoc through me as we made our way through the double doors toward our private cake-tasting room. My phantom’s desired intentions for me remained unknown, but I couldn’t wait to find out what devious plans they had in store.

Fifteen

Her Destiny

Sin

Istared at Pierre, the head baker at the bakery, and I had to keep myself in check. He had a perfect fucking full head of hair, and a neatly groomed mustache that I wanted to curl up the ends into handlebars. He’d be my bitch I’d ride and a fucking handsome one I was’t attracted to. For a sissy baker.

As soon as we wandered into his damn store, I hated Pierre. I wanted to leave immediately after he opened his mouth with a fluent accent any woman would love. I instantly became jealous.

Why?

Because the fucker knew how to bake and wine and dine. Pierre oozed confidence I wanted to squash with my bare hands and make him bleed insecurity. Saint felt the same. I could see the distaste in his blue eyes.

Pierre couldn’t have our girl. Liv wore our ring. Our commitment was forever.

Liv was drenched for us, and she dug dicks on motorbikes who chased her through the woods with masks on. Not some sissy pastry asshole named Pierre who probably had his cock tucked between his legs. He could take his damn insufferable name back to where he came from.

Pierre smiled. “Champagne, anyone?”

A gold tooth flashed from behind his neat grin while he held up a clear alcoholic beverage bottle. I wanted to hit Pierre. To punch his fucking lights out and get our girl away from him.

Breathe. Do this for Liv as the shrink insisted. Be chill. This would only bring us closer. Just pick a goddamn cake and be done with this French prick who called himself Pierre.