Page 39 of Angel

“My room gets me inside you faster,” he pointed out.

“Your room it is,” she settled.

Cage let out a chuckle as he headed for the stairs. Angel was not a small woman. She didn’t have much body fat, but she was tall and muscular. He still carried her like she was a petite woman who starved herself for a living.

At the top of the cellar stairs, Cage pulled out his phone to text Sara. She was the prospect on duty that night to guard the door. Angel was so heated that she started to grind her aching pussy against his confined cock.

“Stop that, sweetness,” he practically growled, “or I’m fucking you against the stairs and we’re truly going to test the limits of my soundproofing handiwork.”

Angel’s chuckle was hot in his ear. “Shower now,” she groaned. “But I’m not saying no in the future.”

Sara opened the latch to the cellar’s hidden door. It was her job to ensure the coast was clear before she was allowed to let them up. Only patched members and prospects knew about the cellar. The ol’ ladies, Honeys, and club kids did not.

Cage rushed them up the remaining stairs and made a hard right turn towards the rear of the building. His apartment was thankfully one of the first once they were through the doorway that led to that hall.

Angel felt him struggle for his keys. She was tempted not to make it easier for him, because she could, but she also really wanted that shower and really wanted him to fuck her. She shifted her hips up to give him easier access to his pocket. “This will be the second time you’ve fucked me in a shower,” she moaned in his ear. “One of these days we’re going to have to make it to a bed.”

Cage’s chuckle was sinful. He got the door open and pushed inside.

Since her back was to the room, Angel didn’t see why he suddenly stopped short. She felt him stiffen and knew immediately that something was wrong. Angel looked over her shoulder and felt her blood run cold.

Evette, one of the Honeys, was lying naked on Cage’s bed. She was propped up against the pillows with her legs bent, showing off her bare flesh. If that wasn’t difficult enough to stomach, the sight of the handcuffs latching her to the bed and the semen dripping out of her cunt was.

The Honey gave Cage a scornful look. “It’s about time you got back, baby. I thought maybe you’d forgotten about me.”

Shock kept Cage frozen in the doorway. He hadn’t been in his room since the day before. What the ever-loving fuck was Evette doing tied to his bed? How long had she been there and why was she there? Because Cage sure as hell did not put her there. It sure as hell wasn’t his cum dripping from between her thighs.

He felt Angel slide down his front to put her feet on the floor. His heart, a second ago thudding loudly for an entirely different reason, suddenly clenched in fear. Would Angel believe he’d been fucking Evette behind her back?

He tried to think through his day. Had he been alone at any point where it could be believable that he’d snuck away to his room to fuck the Honey currently strapped to his bed?

Angel, still bloody from her session in the cellar with Moore, stepped away from Cage—and he felt his entire body run cold. But then, she roared, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Evette gave Angel a once over and turned her nose up at Angel’s state. She looked to Cage. “Baby, you know I don’t mind you bringing company but did you have to bring her? She’s such a buzzkill.”

Angel snapped her fingers to get the Honey’s attention. “I repeat, what the fuck are you doing?”

Regardless of her obvious dislike for Angel, Angel was a patched member. Evette had to obey her just as she would any of the men. Though, based on her current state, Cage had to wonder whether Evette cared about the rules or her contract.

“Going dancing,” Evette snapped. “What the fuck does it look like I’m doing here? Cage said he’d be ‘right back’ almost three hours ago!”

Cage’s mouth gapped open like a fish out of water. Wait—she said, ‘almost three hours ago’. Triumph surged! He’d been in the cellar with Angel for nearly four hours. He couldn’t have also been tying Evette to his bed at the same time.

Angel let out a derisive snort. “Nice try. He’s been with me nearly the entire day.” Then she rolled her eyes. “This is fucking ridiculous. I refuse to talk to you like this. Where the fuck is the key to your cuffs?”

Evette looked to Cage. “He has them,” the duh went unspoken but still heard.

Angel turned around to face Cage for the first time since she got off of him. She raised an eyebrow at him. Cage wasn’t sure what she was thinking or feeling—other than pissed off.

“I don’t have the key,” he told her honestly. He didn’t even own handcuffs. The few times he’d gotten kinky with a woman, she’d either had them or they’d improvised with a scarf or tie.

Evette rolled her eyes. “It’s on his keyring.”

Anger finally broke through his shock. “The fuck it is!” He pushed passed Angel to get to his bed, which he was burning after this. “What the fuck are you doing in here, Evette? You know better than to enter a member’s apartment without their permission.”

Evette looked at him like he was stupid and jiggled her bound wrists. “Obviously I had permission.”

Cage reached towards the bottom of his bed where he kept a spare blanket. It wasn’t thick and he rarely used it, but now he was grateful he had it. He tossed it over Evette’s naked form. “Who tied you to my bed?”

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