Page 178 of Breeding Her: The Red Flag Edition
Shit.
Revision. Movie night. The girls.
The last thing I needed was for them to find out I’d spent the afternoon getting railed by our landlord.
I groaned, stretching out on the mattress, spine cracking slightly as I shifted. My thighs rubbed together—and that slick reminder made me wince.
Alistair Graves.
Potty-mouthed sex god.
This wasallhis fault.
Okay, maybe not all his fault. But most of it. Definitely the leg-shaking, spine-tingling, brain-scrambling parts. With a sigh, I peeled the covers off and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, wincing slightly as I moved.
Accountability wasn’t something I’d ever had to take seriously before—not like this. Not when it involved sneaking out of my landlord’s house after being railed into another dimension. I stood, stretched, and padded over to the curtain, blinking as I tugged it open.
The sun was still out, but lower now, warm and golden as it hovered just above the rooftops. I could still make movie night, I told myself. I just had to move fast—and ideally without limping.
I glanced around the room.
My clothes were gone.
What the—?
I sat up and immediately regretted it. Every muscle in my lower half felt like it had been scooped out and replaced with jelly.
No bra. No knickers. No sense of dignity left.
“Great,” I muttered, flopping back against the pillows. “He’s turned me into one of those girls.”
Chapter 14
Alistair
With work finished, I could finally focus on Callie and dinner. She’d been asleep for a little over four hours. Hilarious, really, considering how much energy she’d spent wearing that toy out last week. She could ride rubber on repeat, but give her the real thing, and suddenly she couldn’t keep up.
I picked up the washed thyme, ready to chop and toss into the sauce, when she padded into the kitchen wearing one of my T-shirts and a sour expression.
“Your clothes are in the dryer,” I said mildly, sliding the herbs onto the chopping board.
“Oh. Thanks.”
She pulled out a stool and sank onto it across from me, running her fingers along the edge of the marble island. “I like this island,” she said casually, tapping the smooth surface.
“Mmm. Thank you. We can test it out next,” I added with a wink.
She screeched, leapt off the stool, and ducked beneath the counter.
I raised a brow and leaned over the island until I spotted her crouched frame.
“Daisy’s in the kitchen,” she hissed, shooting me a glare. “And I am not fucking you where you had her.”
I gave it a moment. Fair point. Still wouldn’t stop me later.
I glanced toward the back—sure enough, two of her housemates were by the fridge. One giggling, one chewing. Blissfully unaware.
“Callie, why don’t you just tell them?”
