Page 71 of Property of Kevlar

Mike laughed and gripped Carrie’s panties by the band and pulled. They tore easily, and he tossed them aside.

Carrie groaned when he took hold of her by the hips.

Urgency throbbed through Kelsey. They had to get out of there. She tried again to evade her captor. The more she moved, the tighter his grip on her became. Pain pulsed through her arm as she yanked and twisted.

He held on.

“Mike,” Carrie pleaded.

Ignoring her, he lifted her, tossed her over his shoulder, and slapped her ass. She squeaked and kicked her feet.

Fuck. This went from bad to worse, and there was nothing Kelsey could do about it.

The man holding Kelsey jerked her forward. She stumbled and collided with his chest. He twisted her, keeping her off-balance, and wrapped an arm around her. Cupping her breast, he then squeezed hard as his warm breath danced along her neck. Bile rose in her throat while her heart thundered.

“We’re going to have fun,” he whispered into her ear.

She squirmed, trying to get out of his grasp as Mike carried Carrie through the dancing crowd.

“Gentlemen!” he shouted.

The people parted, giving him a lane.

“Allow me to introduce our first house whore!” Mike proclaimed as he slapped Carrie’s ass.

Kelsey’s heart dropped. Gasping as the scene involving her friend played out before her, Kelsey froze in fear.

What in the ever-loving fuck did that mean? Being a house whore didn’t sound good. She wriggled harder as the man behind her cackled. With one hand, she clawed at the arm around her. The other dipped into her pocket for her phone.

She should’ve done this sooner. This would never be a safe place. She knew that. Why hadn’t she called like he’d told her? Of all the times she’d used his number, this was the most appropriate. Hopefully, their situation hadn’t reached the point of no return. Could she still call in reinforcements?

Just as she got the phone out and unlocked the screen, she heard him.

“Pres.” His familiar voice sent a chill up her spine.

Her gaze darted in his direction.

No.

“May I cut in?” Pete asked. “She’s mine.”

38

Kevlar

Vrr. Vrr.

Jesus Christ. Could Kevlar not get one minute of peace? He got it. Remi was pissed. Did she have to keep badgering him? They were cleaning it up. What more did she want him to do at this hour?

Vrr. Vrr.

From his back pocket, he pulled out his cell, ready to get another tongue-lashing from his sister.

Vrr. Vrr.

Except it wasn’t Remi.

“Hey, Kitten. Now’s not really a good time. You okay?” he asked as he brought the phone to his ear.