Their Tracked Obsession (Phantoms and Obsession #3)

One

Their Eternity

Liv

Euphoria was my phantoms pounding into me. Rock hard with their enormous cocks. Ten spectacular inches for each man, full of brawny muscles with sheer power running through their veins and absolute dominance. Both took turns with every thrust, in and out of me, never letting up.

Christ. This damn whiskey ginger was strong. The concoction made me horny as fuck.

I stumbled slightly to the right, tripped in my high heels, and bumped into a woman on the dance floor.

“Sorry,” I mouthed a lame-ass apology.

The young blond woman didn’t even notice as she continued to twerk up against a guy with his eyes transfixed on her jiggling skin.

Her short dress had hiked up past her thighs, revealing the edge of a silk band thong and a peek of shimmering flesh.

She must have worn a ton of moisturizing oil, making her skin light up as bright as the Fourth of July.

She gave her all to show off her sex appeal but appeared to still be in school—college, I’d assume.

Probably lived off Daddy’s money, went clubbing in the evenings, and hooked up with random drunks at bars.

She probably flunked every exam, with no intention of studying, and instead experiencing the party lifestyle without having her parents breathing down her neck.

Jesus. If I have a daughter one day, she’d better have the brains to stick with her classes and get a degree.

Miss party animal and I-can’t-keep-my-dick-in-my-pants guy, stuck their tongues down each other’s throats, playing a wild game of tonsil hockey. Unfortunately, the scene was like watching a live porno.

I turned away once she turned around because he lifted her leg up and appeared ready to have intimate relations with her in public. God. I hoped she had common sense to use the pill, or else nine months later, she’d give birth.

I shook my head at the unwanted thought as the music took hold of me from the speakers surrounding the crowd I got mixed up in.

The sound waves sent ripples of vibrations over my skin; the bass caused my chest to jut out with each beat, and the rhythm consumed my body. I danced as if no one were watching.

But someone was.

I took a chug of my drink and wiped the back of my hand across my mouth. I tasted the mix of salty sweat and whiskey with a twist of beer. Goosebumps rose like a live wire sparking to life, and the need to protect myself kicked into high gear.

Phoenix Pitrone was still on the loose.

The madman bore bloodstained hands he could never cleanse, committed mistakes he could never retract, and one of those errors was when he’d helped kidnap me.

Phoenix was alive. As long as he was, I had to keep my guard up at all times because I had survived the wrath of the Mafia. I’d never go back. He couldn’t make me. I’d fight and even kill to stay breathing.

If I didn’t?

He’d take my life in a heartbeat.

The set of watchful eyes couldn’t be Phoenix Pitrone. He wouldn’t be this careless. Stupid enough to step foot in their nightclub. No fucking way.

Or would he?

I spun around much too quickly with the amount of liquor in my system and collided with a firm chest. A gasp escaped me as arms held me up and an expensive fragrance tickled my nose.

I sneezed into his tie.

The man looming over me spoke. “Bless you.”

“Thanks. Sorry...” I tried to adjust his tie before I let go after I glimpsed snot on the material. “Allergies.”

A fucking lie. Which I had to do after I had a case of the sniffles, thanks to his overuse of men’s musk. The guy must’ve dumped an entire bottle of cologne on before he left.

“No apology needed.”

I smiled shyly, gazing up into handsome deep brown eyes, and realized he was extremely attractive.

An attraction I would’ve succumbed to many months ago, letting him eat my pussy until I cried out, but I was a taken woman.

I’d been swept off my feet by two men who I’d be with for as long as I’d live, and they wouldn’t appreciate another man touching me.

They would hate how his fingers moved up my bare arms and grazed my shoulders.

They’d watch. Lay in wait for the perfect time to strike and make this asshole who had a damn good intention of taking me to his bed, pay for even thinking about it. But I’d beat the ghosts who crept in the darkened walls of Sinful Saints to the punch.

He asked, “Care to dance?”

“Not interested.” I stepped back.

He let his arms fall to his sides. The unfortunate sucker had the nerve to grin at me. I knew he’d have a hard time taking no for an answer.

I rolled my eyes.

Men. Always want what they can’t have.

His eyes filled with lust as they dropped to my tits. The plunging neckline wasn’t for his probing eyes. The men of my dreams could pluck his eyeballs out of their sockets in a matter of seconds. He didn’t realize the competition he was up against.

Time to make him aware. He’d back off if he knew what was good for him. Don’t fuck around and find out.

“Trust me. You’ve pushed the limit. Don’t do it again.” I sighed, crossing my arms to give him a hint.

I wasn’t fucking interested.

He took a step toward me. “Oh, but I want to do many things with you. I’ve been watching you.”

“You aren’t the only one,” I muttered under my breath.

“What?” he shouted over the music.

Fuck. The asshole couldn’t use manners. He might be gorgeous, but his father never taught him respect.

“I said…” I cupped my hands around my mouth and raised my voice louder. “You aren’t my type.”

His body language screamed determination. “Well, you’re mine.”

“Nope”—I shook my head and flashed him my ring finger—“I’m off the market.”

“Huh. Nice try,” he huffed and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “I don’t see a ring. I appreciate the role-play, though.”

He winked at me.

What in the actual fuck? Was this guy blind, delusional, or straight-up insane? Couldn’t he see…

Fuck. I’d forgotten. My engagement ring was at the cleaners. The “I’m tying to knot” line had engraved its way into my brain.

“Shit…” I dropped my hands to my sides in frustration and tapped my forehead. “Slipped my mind. My ring is at the jeweler’s getting maintenance.”

“Yeah. Right.” He nodded, and hair fell into his eyes. He brushed it back. “I think you’re playing hard to get.”

He took another step toward me and reached out a hand.

Handsome shit for brains only thought with his dick.

I sighed. “Listen. The first time was obviously an accident since I fell and you came to my rescue, but a second time? Trust me. You don’t want to do that.”

He raised an eyebrow, and a slow smirk crawled across his mouth. This guy was a daredevil bound to meet his execution.

“What? Touch you?” He released a low, mocking, rumbling laugh and gazed around. “Why? Is the boogeyman gonna come get me?”

I simply nodded. “Yeah. Two of them.”

“I don’t fucking believe you.”

“Fine. Don’t.” I shrugged and turned around. “It’s your funeral.”

Slowly, a hand grazed down my backside and stopped at the small of my back. “Come on, sweetheart. One dance?”

I froze. Flashes of unwanted memories flooded back to the surface, and a chill of anger ran through me. This dipshit had a stubborn inability to listen. It was my turn to respond, but he wouldn’t appreciate my answer.