Page 70 of The Forgotten

“Thanks, Maurice,” Noa says, hanging up. “There’s a place around the corner. It’ll open up with the code.”

Harris breaks the kiss, and I shake my head, hoping to be able to regain my brain cells.

“What is going on?” I ask finally.

“Do you really not pay attention to anything that we do anymore?” Noa asks, looking hurt.

“I can’t handle it,” I admit. “I asked my boss to make sure your songs don’t get played anymore at the bar. It hurts too much.”

“We played Minneapolis tonight,” he says finally, sighing. “We’ve been looking for you for three years. A private detective texted us with a photo of you tonight. We needed proof that he’d found you. He’s been following your breadcrumbs for the last couple of weeks, and then we had to make sure our schedule would allow us to come to you.”

Hmm. Maybe that’s why I’ve felt watched all night.

“I’ve been here the entire time,” I mutter. The pains begin again, and I whine. Using my arm strength, I reach up for Harris’ neck and lift myself so I can bury my face in the divot in his throat.

He’s so fucking tall, he must have had to contort himself to fuck me in that position. Breathing deeply, I find myself wanting to bite him. Instead, I suck hard on the pulse in his throat, making his legs almost buckle.

“Orla!” he yells. “Fuck, I’m going to fuck you again against the wall if you don’t behave.”

“Promises, promises. You taste so good, I may take a bite out of you,” I say, gasping as I watch him open his pants. “You wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, that’s a silly thing to say. You just waved the red flag in front of him. Also, your bite isn’t a threat. It’s a promise,” Trick drawls.

Harris is walking, his thick cock out with no remorse, and he pulls his mask back down with a smirk. Noa and Trick make quick work of removing my boots and pants, while I’m panting excitedly at what’s going to happen.

“You went and left us,” Harris says dangerously. His cock is warm and fraught with the promise of the perfect punishment as his hands hold me just over it.

“Harris,” I whine. “I couldn’t stay, not without you. Besides, you left first. You know you had to, there’s no way I could destroy your dream.”

“We should have taken you with us,” Harris grunts, pulling me down the length of his cock. “That’s it, Orla. Feel how good my dick makes you feel. You’ll never need another pack to fuck you…ever.”

“You can’t…use that…against me!” I scream, my breaths heaving as he uses my cunt like a pogo stick.

“We aren’t,” Trick promises, watching as Noa stops at a brownstone. The three of them clomp up the stairs in their shitkickers while my fingers dig into Harris’ arms, and Noa enters the code quickly.

“Inside before she attracts attention,” he says. “You scream all you want, baby. We're going to help you with that nasty pain.“

My eyes have to be blown wide as I drop my head back to look at him, and his hand becomes a fist as he watches me.

“Strip her,” he orders once we’re all inside.

Trick pulls off my coat before Noa almost rips my shirt off, and like a caveman, he pulls out a knife to cut my bra off me. Pouting at the ruined material, I find myself forgetting why I should care as Harris changes the position slightly to hit the perfect spot inside of me.

“That’s it,” he praises. “You can chew Trick out later, Sweet Girl. For now, come on my cock before I knot your pussy.”

“Is that a promise?” I sass, moaning as his cock glides along my inner walls. “You seem to be full of them, but there’s been very little delivery.”

His slap on my ass is almost expected, and my body reacts instinctually as I rise and fall on his cock.

“More,” I gasp.

“You’re full of surprises,” he whispers, kissing me. He bites down on my bottom lip, and I find myself wishing that he’ll break the skin.

There’s so many unsaid words between us. So many what ifs and should haves. There’s one thing I do know though: they are born for the stage and the fame.

The three of them toss away their masks, making me simper. Noa winks at me, his hoody already thrown to the side.

My skin feels as if it’s vibrating with need, and I feel the urge to warn them as they walk into the first bedroom they see. Clothes are flying in every direction as they strip, and it would be comical if I wasn’t in so much pain.