Page 96 of Lucky 14

Oakley is jacking himself off, his muscular body braced in a powerful stance, water dripping off his tattoos. His thighs clench, and he lets out a little hiss as he pulls his dick. His long dick. I can’t help but notice that he’s hot. Like, super fucking hot.

An odd warmth creeps in and battles with the warning bells in the back of my mind that are screaming to leave.

But Oakley is picking up the pace, flexing his hips so the indentations on his ass deepen. He grunts, and I suck in a breath as I realize he’s about to come.

I shouldn’t be here, but I can’t leave.

With a stuttering, muffled moan, Oakley’s entire body stiffens. He leans against the wall, obscuring my view of what must be him spurting everywhere. When his shoulders loosen, I realize my hand is clutched to my chest.

Slowly, my brain registers what’s happening. Oakley is here. He’s fine. He’s not hurt. Not starving. Not kidnapped.

Not looking for me.

A line of rage flickers to life in my soul.

Not looking for me?

I take a step back, but then Oakley turns. He looks at me in the mirror, and his eyes widen.

“Holli?”

I dart.

“Wait!” The shower door slides open, and a fresh hit of adrenaline dumps in my system. I rip the hotel door open before a hand grabs mine and yanks me back. “Holli?”

Stumbling, I whirl to shove my free hand against Oakley’s chest. His bare chest.

“Are you okay? Where have you been? Are you hurt?”

The door clicks shut behind us.

“Fuck you,” I hiss, fighting his grip, all of the emotions I’ve been holding onto exploding out. Oakley wasn’t looking for me. I wasted my time.

“Please tell me you’re okay.” Oakley pulls me further into the room, then spins so he’s between me and the way out. Then, he lets me go, scanning me up and down.

“Get out of my way,” I spit.

“Are you…mad at me?” His forehead pulls into a frown.

“I’m leaving.” I move to get around him, and he holds up his hands.

“Please,” he pleads. “Just talk to me. What’s happening? Where were you?”

I sputter. “Wyatt took me.”

Oakley stares at me for a second, then his eyes widen. I try not to look at Oakley’s naked body. He’s cut in the kind of way that comes with cursed good genetics, and his dick is still hanging out. The one I watched him jerk off. Then he put that hand on me…

My face flames, and I snarl at him. “Get out of the way.”

“Holli…” Oakley holds up both hands like I’m a wild animal. “Ky and I have been looking for—Wyatt took you?” Those eyes widen in fear. “Where is he?”

The fear on Oakley’s face triggers that primal desire to run. I eye the space between Oakley and the wall.

He holds his hands up. “Okay, it’s okay. Just give me a second to get dressed. Please, Holli, I’ve been so worried. If I’d known Wyatt–fuck.” He runs his hands through his hair, looking distressed. “You’re mad at me.”

I hiss, “I thought he took you too! But you’re here—” I wave a hand at the shower, indicating what he was just doing. And then my face gets hot.

Oakley stares at me for a second before, horrifyingly, his gaze softens. His pupils widen, and he reaches out toward me. “You were worried about me?”