Page 112 of Cruel Pleasures

“I’ve warned you,” Hurst growls, suddenly aggressive. He steps around the bed as if tempted to charge at me. “I’ve told you to stay the fuck away from her?—”

“What’s going on?” Imani yawns. She’s sat up, groggily squinting over at us. Her arms stretch into the air, her ample chest thrust forward. Enough to serve as a distraction considering she’s in a thin nightgown that teases the shape of her large breasts and stiff nipples.

Hurst quickly changes course, diverting his attention to her. “I was telling our guest it’s time for him to leave.”

Imani rubs her eyes. “Guest other than yourself? This is my room.”

We stand by as she climbs out of bed and memories from last night seem to hit her. It plays out over her face, her expression shifting. Her lips roll together and she shakes her head, snatching last night’s dress off the floor.

“Why are you here? Both of you.”

Hurst releases a mocking laugh that angles his head back. “Minx, you know why we’re here. Surely you remember all about last night… or do I need to jog your memory? You were beside yourself when I buried my dick in your ass.”

“I remember perfectly,” she snaps. Her hands notch at her hips. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re here. Care to add anything?”

She’s directing the question at me. I’ve remained by the window, silent but observant. The look she pins me with drips of frustration. She couldn’t make it any clearer how fed up she is with the situation.

With the two of us.

Last night might’ve finally pushed her too far.

“Fine,” she says when the silence goes on, “I’ll be the one to say it. Consider last night another round of this fucked up Midnight Games. I was using strategy. You put a stop to that and gave me something else altogether. But it doesn’t mean I belong to you. Either of you.”

“No,” Hurst says. He stalks over to Imani, cutting the space that existed between them. She can’t back up with the bed behind her. “It’s been well established who you belong to, minx. If we need to review the lesson I taught you last time, we will. What did I say to you?”

“Archer—”

“What did I say?” he repeats in a deep growl. His hand shoots out to collar her throat and force her to look up at him.

I make my first move. I step away from the window and approach the two in silence, though no words are needed to establish my intention—Hurst needs to remove his hand from her if he expects to walk out of this room with two of them.

“Get your hand off her,” I warn a second later.

Hurst grins. “You want a round two, Ry? Any time.”

Imani’s gaze flicks between us, then she shoves at Archer’s chest. “I said stop it! And that’s for both of you! I’m not letting this go down. You’re not doing this right now. Some fucking pissing contest to prove your manhood. I choose neither!”

She ducks out from the wall we’ve formed around her and darts to the other side of the room. We’ve pissed her off and she wants us gone.

“I don’t know what you thought you were doing when you started following me. You seem to think whatever obsession you’ve developed means something. But that’s what I keep telling you both—nobody under this roof means a damn thing to me. I came here for one reason and one reason only, and that was to find my best friend.

“She’s nowhere to be found. So guess what? I’m out of here the first chance I get. I don’t need you or your protection, and I won’t be professing loyalty to either of you. If you’re waiting for me to choose, you can save your breath,” she rants, her movements jerky and uncontrolled. “It shows how little you know me. How little you understand me and that I’ll survive on my own. Anything that’s happened has been nothing but strategy to get what I want.”

Hurst looks torn between forcing the issue and storming out. He makes his decision with a roll of his head on his shoulders. “Alright, minxy. You don’t need my help. We’ll see how that works out for you come tonight. Something tells me you’ll be on your knees begging to be rescued from the mess you’ll find yourself in.”

The door rattles the walls once he steps through and slams it shut. In his absence, the tension between Imani and I amplifies. She takes the spot by the window where I’d been only a minute or two ago and pries the drapes the rest of the way open to let in the morning sun.

I weigh the moment and what to do next.

My natural inclination usually would be to remove myself from the situation. It would be an easy decision to make. I don’t involve myself in people’s personal affairs nor have I ever cared to do so. It wouldn’t matter if Imani was emotional or if she was distressed.

There would be nothing between us in the first place if I were still operating like I normally would.

As difficult as it is to admit otherwise, I’m not inclined to leave the room. At least no more than I am inclined to stay…

My preoccupation with Imani began as part of my mission. The Hostess had tasked me with finding out about her and keeping a close eye on her. I was aware of the eventual outcome; that there was some greater plan the Hostess had as far as Imani was concerned.

I simply didn’t care.