Wycked Escape (Wycked Obsession Book 3) Read online

  Wycked Escape

  Wycked Obsession Book 3

  Wynne Roman

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Epilogue

  Playlist

  Also by Wynne Roman

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  WYCKED ESCAPE

  Wicked Obsession Series — Book 3

  Copyright 2018 by Wendy Ferguson

  All Rights Reserved

  Edited by Loredana Elsberry Schwartz

  Proofreading by Kathy Hafer

  Cover Design by Tatiana Vila, Vila Design

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system—without prior written consent from the author, except in the instance of quotes for reviews. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the Internet without the permission of the author, which is a violation of the international copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and imprisonment.

  This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents and places are products of the author’s imagination, and are not to be construed as real, except where noted and authorized. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events, is entirely coincidental. Any trademarks, service makes, product names, or names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement by the use of any of these terms.

  Created with Vellum

  Dedication

  For Brandon

  aka Mr. Amazing

  You know all the reasons, baby . . .

  And if you aren’t sure, I’ll show you later.

  Prologue

  Paige

  Five Years Earlier

  “You ready, baby?”

  My boyfriend looks at me with a grin on his face. Biggest grin I’ve seen in a long time. But why not?

  It’s Noah’s eighteenth birthday, and he’s getting what he wants.

  A threesome.

  I swallow and try to force myself to smile. I can’t match his expression, but I do the best I can. And, I encourage myself, it’s okay if he sees that I’m anxious. A seventeen-year-old girl who has to be talked into this deserves to be nervous.

  “Is this really what you want?” I pin my gaze to his. He’s got bright blue eyes with the longest lashes I’ve ever seen, and I’ve come to depend on the truth I can always find there.

  He pushes my hair back over my shoulders, and those candid eyes show his excitement. I can see the effort he makes to contain it, and a part of me appreciates that he’s attuned to my feelings that much. The rest of me . . . well, I admit it.

  Most of me is just freaking scared.

  “You know it is.” His tone sounds encouraging, but it doesn’t really fool me. Yeah, maybe he is trying to reassure me, but I don’t think it’s because he wants me to feel better about this. He’s trying to reassure me because he wants me to go through with it.

  “We talked about it,” Noah adds a minute later. “I thought you were okay with it.”

  We did talk about it. So often that I wonder if he just wore me down.

  No. That isn’t fair.

  He made his case, I asked questions, and eventually I agreed. Not the first time, no, and not even that first day. The longer we talked, though, the clearer the benefits—and the risks—became. I can’t pretend any differently now.

  I knew what I was getting into, and I said yes, anyway.

  From the day Marlie Davis showed up in school, she’d been after Noah. And why not? He’s tall, taller than most boys in school, and more muscular. He has a smile that lights up the world, a great sense of humor, and he fills a room with his presence when he enters. He’s hot, easily the best looking guy in town, and everything he is hints that sex with him could change your life.

  It’s true. Being with him has changed my life. He’s mine and has been for two years now. My first boyfriend. The first guy I said I love you to. The guy who got my V card.

  And now Marlie wants him. However she can get him. Worse, she’s offering something no eighteen-year-old boy in his right mind will turn down.

  A ménage a trois with her, him, and . . . whoever else he wanted. He picked me.

  Of course he picked me. I’m his girlfriend. We’ve been together for two years. But the sultry look of excitement on his face when he told me about it guarantees one thing: if I don’t agree, I risk losing him. To Marlie, and maybe even some other girl who will ménage with them.

  I can’t take that chance. I won’t. So I said yes, and here we are. In a motel room, because Marlie wants a special place. Noah agreed.

  “C’mon, baby, you ready yet?”

  That’s Marlie’s voice intruding on my thoughts, and she wraps an arm around Noah’s waist as she slips into his embrace. She’s wearing only her bra and thong panties, both from Sluts R Us, if I had to guess. And why is she calling him baby? He’s not hers. He’s mine, and he calls me stuff like that.

  She’s just here to fuck.

  For fun, he said. To make it more enjoyable for us.

  Why is it, then, that I don’t like any of this? My uneasiness robs me of breath, and emptiness fills my chest.

  This isn’t good. I know it, especially when Noah grins and then slaps her ass. Emotions, awful and desperate, claw through me. Fear? Disappointment?

  Anger?

  “Just giving Paige a second to get ready,” Noah says and glances back at me. His eyes are dark, pupils dilated, and he blinks away a flash of impatience.

  “Well, c’mon,” says Marlie. “Let’s get this party started.”

  She throws her arms around Noah’s neck, turns his head to hers, and goes up on her tiptoes to kiss him. She grinds her pelvis against his, and then his arms are around her. Noah lets out a low, guttural moan, one I’ve heard before.

  When he kisses me.

  Oh, God. This is a mistake!

  I know it without a doubt, just as I understand there’s nothing I can do about it now. It might have been too late the minute I said yes.

  Noah pulls himself free of Marlie and grabs my hand. “C’mon, baby.”

  He drags me down onto the bed, reaching behind his head to pull off his T-shirt with one hand. He grabs hold of my tank top, disposes of both our shirts, and then he kisses me like I’ve come to expect.

  I kiss him back, remind myself to make it hot and deep and real, but it doesn’t feel the same somehow. My imagination tells me I can taste Marlie on his lips, and my brain keeps flashing the image of them kissing. I relive it over and over in my mind’s eye.

  I tell myself to forget about it. Let it go and stay in the moment. It’ll all be okay in the end. I don’t believe it, and I can�
��t make myself do it.

  Noah sweeps his tongue into my mouth, and he kisses me the way he always has. My heart starts to pound and butterflies race through my stomach, just like they’ve done since the first time he snuck me into the boy’s locker room and pinned me up against the wall. It smelled like sweat and grimy clothes that had been worn too long, but all I could see, hear, smell, touch, and taste was Noah.

  It’s been exactly the same for me every day since then.

  It’ll be all right, I tell myself now, and try to relax enough to give myself over to his kiss. My limbs give up some of their stiffness, and I let out a shallow breath.

  “Hey, big boy. Let’s get those pants off you.” Marlie’s voice destroys the moment, while her hands snake between us to inflict further destruction.

  Big boy? I’m repulsed by the stupid name, irritated that she’d say something so ridiculous, but I can’t concentrate on a proper response when this girl is working at Noah’s belt buckle. She gives a throaty laugh as she pulls his pants over his hips, down his legs—and he helps her!

  Marlie crawls up behind him, and I can’t seem to force myself to look anywhere else as she kisses his back, his shoulders, his jaw. He pulls away from me and turns, taking her mouth in a kiss that’s nothing if it isn’t sexual.

  She’s naked.

  She arches so that her tits press against his back. Her hands come around to his chest, and then she slides them down to wrap her fingers around his dick. Her knuckles, hard and bony, brush against my hip as she strokes him.

  Noah groans, flexes his hips, and Marlie laughs deep in her throat. She pushes her tits against his back again and licks his neck.

  What am I supposed to do?

  I shift uneasily, scared and uncertain and angry. More than that, I just need to move. For—what?

  I can’t say, but my movement draws Noah’s attention back to me. He grins and dips his head, licking my lips before he kisses me again. His hips flex in my direction, but Marlie’s fist is between him and me. I feel her, not him, and I swallow my disappointment. Instead, I try to make sense of my confused feelings by kissing him back.

  “That’s right, baby,” he murmurs against my mouth and pulls up with a heavy grin. “Here, let’s get these off you.”

  He twists until he frees me of my panties. They aren’t a slutty thong like Marlie’s, but I liked them when I put them on. A sexy mix of white ribbon and lace, teasing and promise. Then I saw what Marlie wore. Now they feel outdated. Old-fashioned. Conservative.

  Ugly.

  “I love your pussy,” Noah groans as he drags hard fingers over me, and his needy tone warms me. Encourages me. He loves me, and I love him. He knows exactly where and how to touch me, the secrets of my clit, and I will always respond to him.

  I forget everything except his touch. His scent, his smell, his very presence. Until I hear the sound of kissing.

  I open my eyes to see Noah’s head turned away, his tongue twined sensuously around Marlie’s. At least I think it’s supposed to be sensuous. It makes me feel sick. His fingers still touch me, but they only rest there. They aren’t moving at all.

  My sexual excitement, my physical response, any sense of being desired, all die a sudden, painful death. Does he even remember I’m here?

  I want to look away, but I can’t make myself do it. Not when they continue to kiss passionately. When Noah’s hands leave my body and move up to grip Marlie’s breasts, play with her nipples, when they sweep down to toy with her pussy. Heat pours from his body, still crouched to straddle one of my legs.

  “What do you want, baby?” Marlie moans against his mouth, and he growls in return.

  “Fuck,” he grunts. “I need to fuck.”

  She reaches behind her, grabs a condom I didn’t know was there, and rips the packet open with ease. She rolls the condom over Noah’s dick, stopping long enough to kiss him when he thrusts himself against her hands.

  “Jesus,” he mutters against her mouth, and I think I’m going to be sick. Was this really what I signed up for? How could I have been so stupid as to not imagine it would be this bad?

  He looks at me suddenly, his smile wolfish. “Are you ready, baby?”

  Me? Ready? For what?

  The words won’t come. I can’t think well enough to form any kind of response. I have no idea how I feel, how to act. Then it’s too late, and Noah moves.

  He’s closer suddenly, between my thighs, and he brings my ass up to rest against him, just above his knees. I know this position and love it because it allows him to go deliciously deep inside me. Why, then, does it shake me to the core tonight?

  He spreads my legs and drags the tip of his latex-covered dick up and down over my pussy. I’m not wet, not like I usually am, and definitely not like I was a little while ago, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

  Again I wonder if he remembers it’s me at all.

  He’s kissing Marlie again, and a minute later, he shoves into me. Hard and deep and quick. It hurts like it hasn’t since I was a virgin because I’m too dry. Noah either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. He just keeps thrusting, kissing Marlie, fondling her tits, pulling on her nipples, and then sucking them. Shoving his hand down to play with her lower lips, her clit, and shoving his fingers inside of her.

  I grunt just a little as I try to make myself more comfortable. He apparently takes it as a sign of something it isn’t. Rather than hearing the discomfort, he thrusts harder and picks up his rhythm.

  The discomfort becomes easier as natural lubrication comes to my rescue. I’m not turned on or excited or anything, and there’s no way I’ll ever come. This is more about endurance than a race to the finish, but at least my body knows how to get me through it.

  My mind far less calm, I’m caught in a maelstrom of silent screams. Cries. Hating every fucking second of watching Noah’s tongue plunge in and out of Marlie’s mouth. Watching him suck her bottom lip, her ear lobe, her nipples. Watching him pull his fingers free of her pussy and suck the juices clean. All the while pumping in and out of me like I’m . . . a hole.

  A glory hole.

  Noah told me about them, showed me a porn video once. It was raunchy and taboo, and I admit it turned us both on a little bit. For me, it was okay because we were snuggled up together, and I knew that—when we fucked—I’d have his full attention.

  Now, I have nothing. He’s thrusting, fucking me, because his dick demands the movement, the pressure, the friction, and he wants to come. What’s turning him on, though, making those demands of his body, and moving him closer to orgasm, is the fact that he’s making out with Marlie, touching her, being touched by her.

  “Hurry, baby,” she mutters against his mouth. “Come, so I can have my turn. I want you to go down on me.”

  “Oh, I will.”

  Is that Noah’s voice? It’s rough and raw and doesn’t sound like him at all. His hips snap against me, his dick goes deep, and I feel something inside of me break. Shatter like fine, delicate crystal. Then even the pieces disintegrate when he says, “I’m gonna eat you like you’ve never had before, baby.”

  Noah finishes with a roar, comes inside me, but I don’t feel it. I don’t feel anything at all. I just lay there unmoving until he pulls out, tugs himself free of the condom, and ties it off. He kisses Marlie again, flips her onto her back next to me, and she shoots me a triumphant gaze.

  I’m sprawled in a stupor, cracked and jagged pieces of myself slowly coming back to me. I’m sticky down there, but at least I’m still wearing my bra. No need to take it off. Noah never touched my breasts, never even tried. Never touched anything at all except to shove his dick inside my glory hole.

  I glance at Marlie, despite knowing I shouldn’t. And when I catch sight of her face, her head thrown back as Noah kneels between her legs, I understand. I get it all.

  She won, I lost him, and who’s the slut here?

  The one he wants to be with, or the one who just got fucked because she happened to have the right hole in the
right place at the right time?

  Chapter One

  Paige

  Present Day

  The door of the sports bar swings open, and cheers, laughter, and the rumble of conversation spill out onto the sidewalk. I wait for a couple of guys to stumble out—sheesh, are they drunk already?—and then slip inside where the chaos reigns.

  Ah, the blessed cool air! That makes up for just about anything in life these days.

  I smile to myself. It might be September, but that doesn’t mean much here in Austin. Early autumn in Texas doesn’t allow for much of a break in the heat or humidity. I was born and raised here and should be used to it, but some days are still tough.

  Today is one of them.

  I step aside and take a minute to enjoy the air conditioning. It’s my own fault. I’ve been rushing around for hours and need a minute to just breathe. Work was crazy. I have a new assistant, which sounds great—and it is!—but it also means extra training. Tonight was Ruby’s first family night event, and it took a lot more upfront coordination.

  I smile softly to myself, thinking about The Bridge, the assisted living facility where Ruby and I work. I love it there, working with the elderly and seeing their bright faces as they mingle with their family and friends. Any amount of work is worth it, even these long days, and I’d still be at it—willingly—if Ruby hadn’t offered to tackle the cleanup on her own.