Purr (Revenge Book 3) Read online

  PURR

  Revenge, Number Three

  Trevion Burns

  PURR

  Copyright 2016 © by Trevion Burns

  Edited by: Hot Tree Editing

  Website: www.trevionburns.com

  Mailing List: http://eepurl.com/bAz7oj

  All rights reserved. The reproduction, transmission or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without written permission.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

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  https://www.facebook.com/AuthorTrevionBurns

  Email:

  [email protected]

  Mailing List:

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  Also by Trevion:

  The Revenge Series:

  Quiver: Number One

  Tingle: Number Two

  Purr: Number Three

  Stereo Hearts Series:

  Stereo

  Encore

  The Romanovsky Brother’s Series:

  Taming Val

  Claiming Roman

  Loving Leo

  Finding Gary

  The Almeida Brother’s Trilogy:

  Lila's Thunder

  Thunder Rolls

  Lightning Strikes

  Stand Alone Novels:

  Dead or Alive

  This book contains content matter that may be challenging for some readers, including

  graphic sexual violence. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

  To Big Mo

  1

  Her fiancé was not her number ten.

  Her fiancé was not a monster.

  Her fiancé was not one of the savage animals who’d brutalized her ten years ago. It wasn’t possible for her power of perception to be so off. It wasn’t possible that she could fall in love with someone who’d defiled her inside and out. It wasn’t possible that she’d accepted a marriage proposal from one of her worst enemies without a single ounce of suspicion that something was amiss.

  It just wasn’t possible.

  Was it?

  Veda Vandyke blinked rapidly, wrestling with the answers to all the terrifying questions blazing through her mind like wildfire. They just kept coming, like a fast-moving virus, multiplying every second, latching onto each other to create bigger, scarier questions, some so horrifying that all she could do was sputter in response. She didn’t even realize she’d been stumbling backward until she nearly tripped over the dining chair behind her and busted her head open on the kitchen’s tile floor.

  In the back of her mind, she decided busting her skull open might be desirable. Anything to escape that horrifying, vomit-inducing, skin-curling moment. Anything to escape the bottomless pit her stomach had collapsed into.

  But there was no escape.

  There was no escape from his dark brown eyes, squinting at her across the mansion. From the flex of his bulging arms and bare chest, the deep lines of his muscles more prominent than ever thanks to the shadows cast by the rising sun peeking into the foyer window. From the evidence of his great strength. If he decided her body was no longer hers, there was nothing she could do to stop him.

  Just like there was nothing she’d been able to do ten years ago.

  A lump moved down her throat.

  He stepped forward.

  She jolted and stepped back.

  He paused at the top of the foyer steps. His black hair, bed-heady and in disarray, somehow still appeared perfect. Spit-shined. Veda remembered a time when she found his immaculate appearance a turnoff. She struggled to recall when she’d given in to his perfect ways. When she’d stopped being suspicious of it.

  He descended the three steps that led to the front door of his mansion, still giving her a look that sent goose bumps prickling under her skin.

  Distantly, she heard her friend, Jake. His voice was still blaring through the receiver of the cell phone in her hand. The phone where, just seconds earlier, he’d given her the news that had made the hair on the back of her neck stand tall. The phone where he’d told her that the shoes her number ten had been wearing the night she’d been attacked were a prototype—only six in existence—and that the man before her, the man approaching her with hard brown eyes, shared a surname with one of the six people who’d purchased them.

  Veda sucked in a breath when he grew nearer, her eyes locking onto his eight-pack abs, muscled arms, and solid physique. Not an inch of his taut body jiggled, even as he pounded across the room. His bare feet shook the wood floors, the strong, bulky muscles of his calves and thighs constricting under his black boxers with each step he took closer to her.

  Veda’s wide eyes ran his chiseled jaw, slightly shadowed. His full lips, more drawn and serious than she’d ever seen them.

  His thick black eyebrows, however, remained relaxed. Calm. Cool. The rich boy in him was still a skilled actor. Coaching that only the heir to a billionaire fortune could endure, from a very early age, dominated his every pore.

  Veda couldn’t help but wonder, as he moved closer, just how coached her fiancé really was.

  Just how skilled an actor.

  Was he so skilled that he’d pulled the wool over her eyes completely? Made her believe he was different from his rich, asshole friends? Different from the other wealthy men on Shadow Rock Island, ten of whom had destroyed her life and her soul?

  As she held Gage’s eyes, Jake’s voice still distantly screaming at her through the phone, she hadn’t even realized she’d been backing up until she ran into one of the large white stone columns in the dining room. It soared from the floors to the vaulted ceiling above.

  Gage moved in, coming so close to her that his dark brown eyes, which looked almost black, showed their true copper hue. They danced against his olive skin as he searched her face.

  He licked his lips.

  Her eyes fell to those lips and watched him do it, amazed when her pussy pulsed, flashing back to the many times those lips had lived between her thighs, lapped at her clit, suckled her swollen lips until her voice grew too hoarse to scream. Until her spine left the bed. Until her body convulsed so violently it was a wonder she didn’t break a bone.

  Her body ached for those lips in any place he cared to put them, even as her mind took her to a terrifying place she didn’t want to be.

  She clutched the cell phone in her hand while taking a deep breath. It shook and filled the quiet dining room.

  “That was Shadow Rock PD at the door.” Gage’s deep voice boomed, filling the silence once occupied only by her trembling breath.

  Veda tried to make sense of what she saw in his eyes. The expression on his face was one she’d never seen before.

  The way he was looking at her! As if he were the one who’d just gotten a phone call saying she might be his worst enemy. As if it were her who might’ve been one of the ten people who’d assaulted him. As if she might not have been the person she’d once claimed.

  That look only grew stronger as he continued. “Eugene was attacked again. Last night. At the ball. Castrated.”

  Veda tried to feign shock. “That’s terrible.”

  A shift. A gleam in his eye—the gleam she still couldn’t wrap her head around—went deeper. He licked his lips again.

  This time, when she watched his tongue wet his plump lips, her body didn’t respond. It was too busy moving into overdrive, blood bursting thr
ough her veins, as he spoke again.

  “Where were you?” He paused, peering at her for a moment, as if wondering if he should continue. Whatever was going on in his mind seemed to prompt him to change course. “When you left me to go to the bathroom…. You were gone….” He paused again. “For quite a while.”

  Veda held her breath.

  Oh yes. Her spit-shined, filthy rich fiancé had been beautifully coached. So beautifully she’d almost missed the accusation lingering in the deepest depths of his voice as he spoke those words. The subtle shift that occurred in his eyes as he looked at her from a completely different angle. The uneasy, desperate twitch of his lips. A twitch that wanted his lips to be wrong about the words that had just spilled from them. About the words that had yet to spill. About the thoughts surely floating around in his head right that second.

  She’d come to know him too well, however, and no amount of coaching in the world could disguise all the subtle changes occurring in him at that moment. That voice of his had whispered words of love far too often for her to miss the hint of uncertainty that had taken their place. Those eyes had watched her with adoration far too often to miss the cynicism soaking them now. Those lips had smiled far too tenderly—usually while wrapped around her clit—for her to miss the subtle agitation they twitched with right then.

  Obviously she couldn’t tell her fiancé the truth. Obviously she couldn’t tell him that, yes, her bathroom break at the masquerade ball the night before had gone long. That it had gone long because she’d been busy luring Eugene Masterson into a private room on the second level. That she’d shoved a syringe of sodium thiopental deep into his neck. That she’d distributed enough anesthetic into his veins to floor a gorilla. That she’d used a sharp, shiny scalpel to remove his testicles so he could never again hurt another woman the way he’d hurt her. That she had every intention to do the same to the rest of the animals who’d brutalized her.

  She couldn’t tell Gage that she was seconds from throwing up… because she’d just been hit with the news that he might be one of those animals.

  She swallowed the lump in her throat, and suddenly the phone in her hand felt like a boulder as she was struck with an idea. “I ran into Jake on the way to the bathroom,” she sputtered. “He was upset because his boyfriend broke up with him a few hours before the ball.”

  She lifted the phone, thanking God that Jake was still on the line.

  Gage looked at the screen as she put the phone on speaker.

  “Jake,” she said, watching Gage from the corner of her eyes. “I was just telling Gage about how upset you were last night… when we ran into each other at the bathrooms.” Understanding Gage’s sudden change of demeanor now more than ever, she slammed her eyes closed, hoping Jake had overheard enough of her and Gage’s conversation to go along with the plan.

  A long silence fell in.

  Gage actually raised his eyebrows at the phone.

  “Yeah, sorry I jacked your girlfriend last night,” Jake’s voice finally rang in, grainy through the speakerphone. “I’m such a queen, I know, but I was really upset about my asshole boyfriend and needed a shoulder. You understand, right, Gage?”

  He stared at the phone, drinking in every word Jake said as his voice wafted through the air. His eyes narrowed to Veda.

  She raised her eyebrows, holding her breath.

  The hardness in Gage's eyes softened, and just like that he was once again the man she knew. The one who looked at her with adoring eyes, an unwavering gaze, and a pair of lips that were always upturned with a smile tailor-made for her. His shoulders relaxed. His very being relaxed.

  “Shit….” Gage ran his hand down his face, his head and eyes falling as a blush raced up his cheeks. He kept his eyes down and took a small step away from her.

  “What did you think I was doing?” Veda laughed. Even though the sound came out false, Gage didn’t seem to notice. “Having an affair in one of the bathroom stalls?”

  He looked up at her from under his eyelids. “I don’t know,” he whispered, looking away again. “I don’t know what I thought, baby. I’m an idiot.”

  “Jake, can I call you back?” Veda asked, waiting for Jake to say yes before she ended the call and closed the space between them.

  She placed her hands on Gage’s broad shoulders, letting her fingers trickle over the dusting of freckles there. The cross necklace between his solid pecs. The contrast between their light and dark skin.

  At her touch, he exhaled, a bashful smile crossing his lips. He reached for her as well, big hands landing on the curve of her waist. He squeezed, and then his touch was traveling down where he loved it most, over the swell of her ass.

  Veda looked up at him, all six-foot-three, two hundred pounds of him, but she couldn’t return his smile. “What was that all about?”

  “Nothing. It was nothing. Like I said, I’m an idiot. I must still be half asleep. Forget it, baby.” He leaned down, lips parted to take hers. “Forget it, all right?”

  When their lips met, his eyes fluttered closed, and Veda took that moment to allow the frown that had been collecting between her eyebrows to show itself. He was clearly feeling better, as evidenced by the gentle kisses he placed on her lips and the soft moans that followed, but her stomach was still in shambles.

  Even so, her body responded, as it always did for him. Skin tightening, pussy pulsing, and clit aching for the lips that instantly moved to the crook of her neck, suckling her sensitive skin. Her mind went to war with her body as he dragged his greedy hands over every inch of her, cupping her ass and pulling her in so she could feel his hard dick, his words of love warming her skin.

  Her center clenched tight for the hardness pressing against her stomach, the tongue wetting the skin of her neck, and the intention behind the big hands that cupped and squeezed her ass.

  He ripped apart the tie on her robe and pushed the flaps open, revealing her naked form. Veda gasped. He pushed the terry cloth off her shoulders, the robe falling to a pool at her feet before his fingers slipped past the soaked lips of her pussy, his thumb stroking her aching clit as he slid the longer fingers inside.

  Her mind and thoughts died a violent death.

  Sensibility flew out the window.

  Gage wasn’t her number ten, she decided, right then and there as his fingers plunged into her wetness, because he couldn’t be.

  There were dozens of Blackwaters on Shadow Rock Island. Just because a Blackwater had purchased the prototype sneakers her number ten had been wearing, it didn’t mean that Blackwater was him. On top of that, five other people had purchased those shoes. Her number ten might not be a Blackwater at all.

  Yes.

  That had to be it.

  It had to be someone else.

  It couldn’t be Gage.

  She clawed her nails down his back, a moan tearing through her as he found her G-spot with his thick, smooth fingers.

  Gage is not your number ten.

  She couldn’t believe anything otherwise. She couldn’t accept it. She wouldn’t accept it.

  She wouldn’t accept that the light she’d been running toward—the light that only existed when his lips were on her skin, when his dick was deep inside, or when his seed was filling her body—was actually a darkness beyond human comprehension.

  He pushed her against the wall, cradled her thigh on his hip, pushed his boxers down past his ass, and entered her.

  She threw her head back with a breathy moan and he took advantage of the exposed underside of her chin, covering it with heated kisses.

  Her moans moved to whimpers.

  No one who made her feel this good could be her number ten.

  But Veda was more determined than ever to find out who was. To bestow upon them the same fate she’d bestowed upon Eugene Masterson and Todd Lockwood. To exact revenge and expel the darkness invading her insides for good.

  For now, however, Gage’s thick cock—and his savage stroke—would have to do the job.

  It alway
s did.

  If she had anything to do with it… it always would.

  Because he was not her number ten.

  He couldn’t be.

  2

  It had been one of the weirder mornings in Gage Blackwater’s life.

  As he fucked Veda against the wall of his dining room, her wrists trapped over her head by his trembling hand, curly hair fanned around her angelic face and lips parted in ecstasy, he couldn’t believe the world he’d almost allowed himself to devolve into.

  A world where those plump lips, that button nose, and those big brown eyes—fluttered closed as passionate moans left her lips—could cause anyone harm. A world where that slick pussy, hugging his dick in a way that could only be described as heaven, could bring him anything but pure joy. A world where her deep brown skin no longer tasted sweet under the suck of his lips, but salty.

  The guilt of it all nearly ate him alive, so he stroked her patiently. If he felt his orgasm building, he clapped a hand on her chocolaty thigh and paused. Squeezed. He’d wait for the incredible sensation to subside, even as every bone in his body begged him to thrust—begged for release—before he’d continued pumping once more.

  But even as he brought her to orgasm, the gentle sound of her peak like music to his ears as it spilled from her lips, he couldn’t shake it completely.

  The truth.

  The truth was that he didn’t have Veda fully.

  He never had.

  The truth was that a couple bombs dropped by a detective at his front door had been enough to make him look at his fiancée in a way he never had. With question. Suspicion. Uncertainty.

  Even though he wanted every part of her desperately, even though the screams from her orgasm said he might, and even though the tightness of her convulsing pussy said he did, he knew what was real.

  He didn’t have her.

  Not completely.

  Not even the ring he’d placed on her finger made her his.