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The Ritual(42)

Author:Shantel Tessier

“Well, thanks for the offer, Nathan and Mitch, but we’re good.” I look at the bartender. “Rum and Coke. Two, please.”

“Oh, come on.” The one next to me picks up my card, and his free hand grabs my forearm. “You should be grateful we’re offering to take care of you for the night.” That smirk returns to his face. “You can pay us back later.”

His words anger me. He expects us to get on our hands and knees and kiss his fucking shoes because he’s offering to pay what? Maybe a couple of hundred dollars on drinks for us tonight? “No, thanks,” I repeat and yank my arm away from him as I take my card from the other.

“Hey—”

“It wasn’t a fucking hint, asshole.” Sarah snaps, cutting him off. “The answer is no. Pick two different girls.” She grabs my hand, yanking me from the bar. “Come on,” she growls. “There are other bars here to get drinks at inside this club.”

Looking back at them over my shoulder, I see another guy join them, but his back is toward me, so I can’t get a look at his face. But I see a tattoo on the back of his neck that looks like a spider crawling out from underneath the collar of his shirt. My eyes go to the one who introduced himself as Mitch, and he’s already glaring at me. Giving him my back, I throw my hair over my shoulder.

Fuck him!

RYAT

I HATE CLUBS. I’m not much of a partier. Even throughout high school, I didn’t go to many. I hate people in general. Then you mix alcohol and drugs with it, and I just can’t deal with them.

The house of Lords throws parties all the time, and although I tolerate them, I don’t drink at them. Too many opportunities for shit to go wrong. I prefer to be levelheaded and in control. That way, if something goes down, I can handle it.

So, the fact that Gunner and I are at Blackout isn’t helping my already sour mood. I’ve left Blakely alone since she threw her little fit earlier today at Barrington, but then Gunner called me and said we had a situation. I’m not happy about it.

The fact that I’m standing on one of the second-story balconies looking down onto the first floor and watching another man touch what’s mine makes me see fucking red.

Pushing away from the railing, I rush down the hallway and see two men standing at the railing. Both have holsters on their belts with guns loaded. “Ryat.” One nods at me.

Walking over to the edge, I point out Blakely and Sarah on the first floor. They’re throwing back shots at the bar in the back. “See those two girls. One dressed in a white dress, the other in a black one?”

“Yeah. What about them?”

“No one touches them. Got it?”

He nods. “Yes, sir.”

Satisfied that they will do what needs to be done if something happens, I finish walking down the hallway to the end and come to a door. I punch in the key to enter and push it open.

Ty is in the middle of fucking a server.

Her brown eyes widen when she sees Gunner and me enter the room. Shrieking, she presses her palms on the desk he has her bent over and tries to push herself up. Grabbing the back of her neck, he slams her face down onto the desk and continues to fuck her from behind. “Just let them watch,” he tells her.

“Ty …”

Leaning over her back, he reaches in front of her and pries her mouth open, sticking his fingers inside—two on each side—opening her mouth up so she can no longer argue with him. “Shut the fuck up,” he growls.

Her face is scrunched, and she closes her eyes in embarrassment. That’s Ty for you. He was always good at humiliation. The man taught me everything I know.

He pumps into her, their hips hitting the desk, making it rattle.

She moans, unable to help herself, and her fingers curl around the edge of the desk, holding on to it. She’s fighting the inevitable. Drool starts to run down her dark-painted lips and onto the desk. Her hair covers parts of her face, and the room fills with her unintelligible sounds that he’s forcing from her. Then her eyes roll back into her head just as he thrusts one last time—both of them cumming.

Pulling out of her, he removes the condom and tosses it into the trash can by his desk and sits down. “Now get the fuck out,” he orders, and she gladly obliges, running as fast as she can past us, but stumbling out the door. “What can I do for you guys?”

“The basement.” I get to the point. “May we use it?”

He smiles up at us. “Of course. You never have to ask.” Sitting up, he places his forearms on the desk. “Just point them out, and I’ll have them delivered for you.”

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