Unleashed: Volume 3 (Unleashed #3) (20 page)

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
.

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!

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helpmeedit.net for proofreading, and to Jesse Gordon for formatting
the book so well.

Thank you to Emily and
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the group at Give Me Books, for their tireless, creative help and
support.

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

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