Trey - Shandi Boyes Page 0,32

my comfort zone for the second time in my life offers up an introduction to the people seated in the massive living area. “This is Nero, Lexa, Haley, Nathan, Max, and Nerissa.” He shifts on his feet to face me before shoving a frothy pink concoction into my hand. “Everyone, this is K.”

“Hi, K,” the group hums in sync, oddly friendly.

Only Nerissa adds to her greeting, “You’re pretty, K. Perhaps you should come sit with me?” She taps on the minute snip of material next to her meaty thigh.

“Yeah, nah. She is off-limits.” When the unnamed man pushes me into the plush leather chair my knee was balancing against, some of my drink spills onto Trey’s shirt.

I stop panicking about how much trouble I’ll get in for making a mess when a second man’s backside fills part of the chair my skinny frame doesn’t take up. “Taken by who? Nikolai said the women were off-limits, so who could she be taken by, Eight?”

When Eight’s narrowed gaze swings to the other side of the room, I follow the direction of his gaze. I’m not the only one experiencing discomfort by the stranger’s closeness. Trey seems put-off by it as well, but instead of being angry at my chair-hogging companion, he glares at me as if I requested for him to sit with me.

I don’t know what has him so worked up. I’m not the one entertaining five people in a hot tub. They may only be kissing, but that’s the most intimate act there is. Rape, torture, and deprivation of liberty rarely include kissing. None of the men I was forced to ‘entertain’ were interested in kissing me. They wanted my mouth for one thing and one thing only. Although glad none of the women in the jacuzzi are doing that to Trey, for some stupid reason, watching them kiss him hurts just as much.

Needing to settle the flips of my stomach before I hurl on the expensive-looking rug under my feet, I take a sip of the drink Eight shoved into my hand. The burn the liquid hits my throat with is worse than the dryness Trey’s glare instigated. It has me coughing like I’m on the verge of an asthma attack and sends laughter breaking across the room.

The only person not laughing is Trey.

He’s glaring—still.

“Slow slips, baby girl,” encourages the man warming my thighs with his heated gaze. He’s cute, but I’m not interested. I’ll never be interested. “Nothing around here is done in halves. Not even cocktails.”

My drink is a cocktail? I thought they were supposed to be yummy. This is far from tasty.

I grow worried I said my comment out loud when the dark-haired man laughs like he heard my private thoughts. “Eight is a shit mixer. How about I fetch you something more appetizing?”

After inching back far enough, his hand falls from my face, I shake my head then place my barely-touched drink onto the coffee table. Seemingly incapable of understanding the word no, the man snatches up my glass before he moseys to a bar in the corner of the room to mix me a new drink.

Although panicked about how my rudeness will be handled, I’ve had enough of the festivities to risk being punished. When the group breaks into rapacious laughter about Nero saying balls should be excluded in measurements, I slip off my seat and tiptoe away from them. I’m not here to make friends. I need to find Ana and then the closest exit before the unexpected attention has me forgetting I’m no more important than the women imprisoned in a room at the back of this compound.

I’m no one.

I almost make it to the corridor that leads to the dormitory the women are in when a dripping-wet body blocks my exit. Since my eyes are planted on the ground, it doesn’t take me long to realize the person confronting me is naked. Although his cock is flaccid, it’s still large enough for me to know it won’t matter how gentle he is, you’ll hurt for days after sleeping with him.

“Where are you going, K?” His possessive tone gives away who he is, much less his British accent. “Don’t you want to party with your new friends anymore? Eight seems willing to lose another finger for you, and Logan only mixes drinks for the girls he wants to fuck, so why aren’t you taking advantage of their generosity?” The bad slur of his words reveals his level of intoxication, and don’t get