Unleashed #3

by Callie Harper

  I jogged the six blocks to our hotel. I doubted a single attendee at the Met would have considered such physical exertion. A punishing workout with a personal trainer in top-of-the-line athletic gear, sure. A jog on city blocks in a tuxedo, not so much. Rich people tended to get soft. Not me.

  I knew Vladimir could be there for me in minutes, that I might not even be saving any time on foot. But I couldn’t sit in the back of a car at traffic lights, not when I didn’t know what had happened to Kara. She was such an innocent, so naïve and I’d only showed her the glittering lights of New York City. Much darker dangers lurked around every corner and Kara would attract a criminal like a moth to a flame. Only she’d be the one to get burned.

  Had she chickened out at the door? She must have felt intimidated. I’d been an idiot. I should have made arrangements to meet her outside so I could walk her in to the party. If I hadn’t been so out of it when I’d said goodbye to her at the hotel room, I would have planned better. I’d been running late, which I never did, confused and unfocused and wanting nothing more than to get back into bed with Kara. It had made me careless, sloppy, and I hadn’t told her to text me when she got there. I could have walked her up the steps, arm in arm. I could have shown her around, introduced her, made sure she felt comfortable. Instead I’d been stupid and now who knew where she’d disappeared to. She probably didn’t even bring her cell phone with her to the party. She had no way to get in touch with me if she needed help.

  Heart pounding in my chest, I burst into the hotel room.

  “Kara?” My voice seemed to echo in what immediately became clear was an empty hotel room. “Kara, where are you?” I played out the part in every horror movie, the idiot who continues calling out and searching even though everyone including him knows she’s not there. She was gone.

  On the counter I saw a note. Something cold gripped my gut. This wasn’t going to be good.

  Declan,

  Someone else has come through for me to help with the ranch. I don’t need you anymore. I’m terminating our contract a day early, so I do not hold you to your end of the bargain. You don’t owe me anything.

  Kara

  I looked up. My fingers kept pinching the note tight and bloodless. I walked over to the bar and poured myself a drink, a strong one. After a long, hard swallow of liquor, I read the note again.

  “Someone else has come through for me.” Had she been trying to cut my heart out of my chest cavity with a jagged knife and no anesthesia? Had that been her intent in writing the note? Because if that’s what she’d been trying to do, she’d done a real bang-up job.

  In one long gulp I finished my drink, the burning heat punishing my throat as it slid down. With a smash, I threw the empty glass against the wall. It hit with such force it shattered, spraying bits and shards across the room. It would require a hell of a clean-up job, but I’d pay for it and some poor SOBs would come in here with rags and vacuums. Before the end of the day tomorrow it would look good as new.

  How about this fucking mess I found myself in? How the fuck would that get cleaned up? I still held the poisonous note. “I don’t need you anymore.”

  “Fuck!” I bellowed into the empty hotel room, wishing I were outside or at the gym, somewhere else where I could channel everything into the physical. This sea storm of emotions rioting through me, I didn’t do this. I did control. I governed. Not this, a tornado of fury and pain whipping through me.

  “Fuck!” I swore again, grabbing the entire bottle of Jack Daniels and tipping it to my mouth. Who the fuck was she with? Who had bailed her out? How hadn’t I known about it? I took another swig, needing the burn and, please God, the ensuing numbness.

  I’d been such an asshole. Played like a fucking piano. How had I not seen this coming? How had I let all of my defenses down, let myself become such a chump? She’d always been in this for the money, nothing more. She’d come to my office with bills to pay and asked for my checkbook. Somehow I’d lost sight of that. It was always about money, hadn’t I learned that enough times? That’s what it had been about the first time around, when Harlan had run me off his land and away from his daughter. I hadn’t had enough money.

  Funny thing, now I had so much and it still wasn’t enough. Someone else had come through for her.

  From deep in my chest, I let out a roar, a great bellow of pain and anger. I wanted to kill the man who won her, the highest bidder. But most of all I wanted to kill that soft part in myself, the part that had been about to declare eternal love. At least I’d been spared that humiliation. How much more raw would this feel, had I bent down on one knee and asked her to be mine?

  She’d said it, earlier that evening. She’d said she loved me. I took another swig out of the bottle of whiskey. Easy lies, tripping out of her pretty mouth. She’d probably said that to a dozen men, maybe more. I’d been about to say it to her and I’d never once said it to another living soul.

  My gaze darkening, I looked out over the hotel room but didn’t see it. Deep down, I’d always known this would happen. I didn’t believe in happy endings. This shit, this base betrayal, I believed in that. This fit with my worldview. The basics of supply and demand. Once what I had to offer was no longer needed, once she found a better supplier, everything else burned.

  I bet it was Bruce. That fucking twit. Tilting the bottle up, I made quick work of it. Bruce with his football jersey and college degree. The fucking hometown hero. He’d texted her the other day. He’d probably sweetened the deal, paid her bills, given her a sure thing. Bird in hand, as the saying went.

  I’d been about to help her. I was going to do everything for her, buy her anything she wanted, do anything and everything I could to make her happy. I’d do it now for her if I still could. In fact, maybe if I rushed, if I called her and told her I’d wire her some money, maybe she’d come back?

  Oh hell no. I closed my eyes. This wasn’t going to happen. I wouldn’t get pathetic, wouldn’t become the sucker who cried his eyes out when he got left behind, begged to not be left alone. I was Declan Fucking Hunt. When someone betrayed me, I got even. And the best way to get even in this situation would be to not care at all.

  And what would Declan Hunt, wealthy entrepreneur playboy bachelor do if he didn’t care at all? He’d head out to a club, the kind that served his basest needs.

  If I was the beast in this story, the bad guy the girl didn’t ride off with into the sunset, I might as well play the part. Drink. Fuck. Send myself into mindless oblivion. When you couldn’t be happy, at least you could forget.

  §

  “How may I serve you tonight, sir?” A girl kneeled at my feet, her luscious breasts out and exposed with nothing but pasties on the nipples. She wore a collar with an empty latch, seeking a master to clip his leash to her and force her to do his bidding.

  I sat with my drink in hand, considering my options. I could trace those plump, moist lips with my thumb, maybe make her take my cock out and suck it there in the main room where anyone could come see. A small crowd would gather, watching her go down on me, hungry and needy, while I forced her head onto my engorged prick. That might get me off, her wet, hot mouth on me while others watched. I bet she’d like it, too. She’d like me using her that way. Many subs craved public humiliation.

  She liked awaiting my commands. I could see it in her breathing, could tell in the way her nipples peaked with pleasure simply from being at service. Just offering herself up to me turned her on. I brought my hand to her hair, smooth and shiny. I could picture cupping her head, forcing her down, the people around us watching. Another dom might take advantage of the scene I created, forcing his sub to touch herself as she watched my cock get sucked. Another might make his sub kneel and take his dick, too. Or a separate side-show might start, two girls playing with each other, sucking each other’s tits, rubbing each other’s clits for everyone to watch.

  I could see all of that play out in this woman kneeling before me. She stayed there awaiting my orders, her eyes downcast
in true sub fashion, not even looking her master in the eye. She knew how to play the game with the utmost of expertise.

  “Not tonight,” I growled. I withdrew my hand. Disappointment flickered through her pretty face. She’d wanted to get used by me. But she kept her eyes downcast as she stood up and left me alone.

  I had every reason to throw myself into this scene, grind myself into the physical, whip and torture and force submission. The coiled tension inside me was so palpable I practically had steam rising off of my back. That sub could probably sense it and desperately wished I’d take it all out on her.

  But you couldn’t do what you couldn’t do. As much as I wanted to prove to myself that there was more to life than Kara, that she wasn’t my one and only, this wasn’t how I was going to do it. Sitting there, unable to assume my typical role, was only making it worse.

  So I left, alone, cloaked in restless, unsatisfied anger.

  There was only one thing to do. I needed to get on a plane. I had to know, had to see her with him. Maybe if I saw her in his arms I could sear the image into my brain, use it like a brand to burn through all my memories. Maybe then I could walk away.

  But this wasn’t over yet. I needed it to end, but not like this, not with a note and a whimper. I would head to Montana. This needed to end big.

  All four volumes of Unleashed: Hot Alpha Romance are available now for sale or preorder.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Thank you so much for reading! I’m so excited to share the story of Declan and Kara. Just when you think it can’t get hotter…

  Thank you thank you to my family and friends for their love and support. I am so grateful every day for each of you!

  A huge thank you to Lauren Blakely for her advice, encouragement and humor.

  Jada D’Lee Designs designed the amazing covers for all four volumes of Unleashed. Thank you for the attention to detail. You are a pleasure to work with!

  A huge thank you to helpmeedit.net for proofreading, and to Jesse Gordon for formatting the book so well.

  Thank you to Emily and the team at Gossip Girls PR and to Caroline, Kylie and the rest of the group at Give Me Books, for their tireless, creative help and support.

  Thank you to all the fantastic, entertaining writers I adore reading.

  And much love to all the amazing book lovers! You make it fun to write! I so appreciate each of you taking the time to read my books. You make it possible to write as an indie author, so thank you thank you!

  CONTACT

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