Page 134 of Crushing Clover

“Please, use my pussy,” I begged.

“No. I’m taking your ass. You’ll thank me later when the other two get a hold of you.” Ignoring my whining pleas, he twisted and spread his fingers, then pulled them out. Before my stomach could even stop cramping, he let go of my arms to grip my hip, and was pushing his big dick into me. He’d spat on himself first, but it still felt like he was trying to push a metal baseball bat into a hole much too small and delicate.

While he was distracted, I stuck my fingers into the sand and tossed it over my shoulder. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, and I hadn’t expected it to do anything except piss him off, but he made a sound of surprise and swore. He let me go so suddenly, his cock fell out of my ass and I toppled forward onto my face.

“Are you okay?” I asked, feeling guilty.

Not answering, he kept spitting out sand and rubbing his eyes. I took that as my cue to run like hell. It couldn’t have been unexpected, but I still felt bad as I sprinted away, ignoring the urge to glance back over my shoulder to check on him or to see if he was following me. I’d have to make it up to him later. It wasn’t exactly a dirty trick, but it was his own fault for letting down his guard.

Even so, I didn’t like the feeling.

I managed to get my dress back down, but my underwear was long gone.

By the time I got to the street, I must have looked like a disaster. I could only imagine how tangled my hair was. I did my best to run my fingers through it and clean up the smudges of make-up I was sure were under my eyes.

I was so rattled it was difficult to remember how to get back to the truck, but eventually I found what felt like the right area and ducked into an alleyway nearby so I could check out the parking lot.

Nervous, I peeked behind myself. It would be far too easy for someone to grab me in a secluded area like this. We should have been in the middle of nowhere to play this kind of game—then I wouldn’t have to worry about weirdos, other than the ones I lived with.

Wrong parking lot. Damn.

I maneuvered my way back to the street and through various alleys, keeping an eye on the ground for things I shouldn’t be stepping on barefoot while also trying to watch in front and behind me, never knowing where the danger would come from. More than one man catcalled me, and two people asked if I needed help.

At one point, a shrill whistle jerked my head up, and all I could think was that Saint and Rush were working in tandem and signaling each other. I had no proof, but it seemed plausible.

After a few wrong terms, I found the restaurant but circled around the back of the building next to it, not trusting that one of them wouldn’t be lying in wait. I watched from the neighboring lot for a few minutes before deciding they were either doing a great job at—what had Noah called it when he was gaming? Camping? I was pretty sure that was the video game term for hiding like a sneak and picking people off when they least expected it.

Quietly, I crossed from the lot I was hiding in, to the one where we’d parked. What if Saint had fucked with me and moved the truck?

But no, there it was, the black paint almost concealing it in shadow.

The scuff of a shoe made me whirl.

There, behind me, was Rush, his grin and wild eyes making my breath catch. At home, he could get rough, but he was usually my aftercare guy. Standing here in the dark parking lot with him was different. Some primeval instinct deep inside me recognized him as a man who’d come to raze my village, except in this case, the only thing he meant to plunder was me.

I shook my head and backed away. He prowled toward me, all muscle and menace, earrings glinting.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked quietly.

“To the truck.”

“Think, girl. Do you really want this game to be over?” The second voice came from behind me, and I turned again, almost tripping over my own feet. Saint, of course, looking as brutally handsome as usual.

If I could dodge around him…I was almost there.

“Three against one, and you’re still going to lose,” I said, panting.

“We’ll see who loses.” His smile was mocking.

With a squeal of exhilarated fear, I bolted to the left, heading down the row of cars then ducking between two. I didn’t stop but led them in a dizzying labyrinth of a chase, trying to work my way back toward the truck and home base.

I wasn’t the only one out of breath, but rather than making them laugh, they looked intense.

Rush took a swipe at me when he got too close, and I almost collided with Saint, ducking under his arm and barrelling for the truck, which was only feet away. Saint cursed as I extended my hand, the metal so close I could feel the lingering heat of it from the sun.

“Stop.”

I froze, expecting it to be Saint, but there was Lucky, his gaze ruthless.

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