Chained Hands (Keir & Sailor Duet #1; Chained Hearts Duets, #1)

by T.L. Smith

But then I realized that life is a lie. A big, fat, juicy lie.

I don’t like the lie, never lived it, and never intend to. So, when you lie to me, I’ll come along and bleed it from you. I’ll let the blood that seeps from your body tell me your truth. If you owe me, that is.

I’m not a man. I’m a stone-cold killer.

My patience level is becoming smaller and smaller, and my trigger finger is getting happier and happier.

“Just go with it, okay?” I want to argue, to tell him that I just go with a lot of things, and every single one of those things, I do for him and only him. But what does he do for me? Nothing lately.

He has brought me with him tonight, thinking I should be thankful. I’m not. I don’t want to be here.

I have changed. He has not.

“Red means you’re here to only support or watch, yellow means you’re interested but with someone, green means you’re up for everything.” I glance down at my yellow wristband, then back to the floor below me.

It’s like an orgy with a bar.

“Why are we not wearing red ones?” He stays silent for a moment as he trails his hand from my hair, down my spine, landing on the curve of my ass and squeezing. “Because it’s time we spice things up and play. It’s getting old in our bedroom.”

Huffing, I stay where I am and check around for Dillan—who has just won the husband of the year award for leaving me alone—but don’t find that asshole anywhere. It’s time I finally leave him. Like, for real this time. Not just think about it.

But as I look at Dillan I wonder, what does he give me? Actually … … not much.

“I’m not his.” “No, you are mine.”

“I like it when they scream. Tell me, will you like it when I make you scream?”

This doesn’t happen in real life. Who sells their wife? And why would anyone want to buy me? What the fuck?

Thank God he isn’t fucking someone. That’s not something I want to see after being fucking sold.

He’s the type you see in the movies. Those bad boys you know you should stay away from. Those ex-boyfriends who are simply bad for you, but you keep going back to because their appeal drags you in like some sort of magical spell that’s been cast on you. But I don’t want to be some sort of rag doll who’s pulled every which way. Been there, done that.

Dillan Robok is most definitely not the man I love. Pity, it took me being sold for me to see that, but I also don’t want him dead. So, my decision, for now, is to follow the devil. Or let the devil destroy everything I know.

When you are alone with nothing but your thoughts, it makes you wonder about a lot of things. Makes you think of things you wouldn’t normally waste your time on when life’s distractions are there to occupy your mind instead.

It suits him. Keir. Asshole.

To be honest, I never liked the way he kissed me anyway. Or the way he fucked. Or … fuck. Anything.

Fuck Dillan! Fuck him every which way to Sunday.

She’s different. I’m not sure how to describe her, but she’s not what I expected either.

“You must think I’m a weak woman,” she says, her eyes cast down at the pool’s surface as she speaks. How she knows it’s me, I’m not sure. “I wasn’t always that way. Sometimes things break you and you let them, even when you don’t realize it’s happening.”

I’m still undecided if I want to kill her. Time will tell.

There were so many signs. So many obvious signals things were not right. What was wrong with me? Or better yet, what is wrong with me?

Roberto walks in, looks to where she is sleeping, then to me. “Joey doesn’t like her,” is all he says. I know what that means, and what others think it means is the exact opposite. Joey likes her. I know Joey well. Joey likes a lot of things, so it’s no surprise.

“You shot my husband, and now you’re telling me to be calm?” “Would you like me to shoot you too, to make it even?”

“She’s going to be so much fun,” Roberto says, smiling.

I hated my body when I couldn’t carry a child. But slowly, I’m starting to love her again. Even after I blamed her, caused her pain, she is still me and I am still her. And I only have this one body, so I best be good to her.

This man is clearly not someone I want to piss off. Keir is the man you stay away from, far away from. So why when I am near him do I think of things I shouldn’t be?

Maybe he did me a favor by selling me to Keir. I never would have been strong enough to leave him.

“I’m hungry, are we eating?” “Of course, we are.” His words are snapped and small. “Okay, great,” I say cheerfully. “Do you want to suck my cock to tide you over?” My cheer dies at his words and by the look on his face, I can see he’s serious. I’m so shocked at his words I feel mortified. Who speaks like that? But two can play that game. “Only if you lick me first.” I expect him to shake his head and tell me no.

I’m having oral sex with a man I don’t even know. A man who shot my husband. Oh. My. God.

I’ve just let a man from the mafia taste a part of me that hasn’t been touched in a long time. Better yet, I just had sex with a man who shot my husband. Or, should I say, ex-husband. Shit. Shit. Double shit.

She took longer than two minutes, and for that she deserves a spanking. The problem with that? I have a feeling she’d like it, though.

I have to admit, I like that she has a backbone but also listens when she should. Pity I plan on killing her by the end of the week.

A stray tear trails down my cheek and he leans in, licking it away. I bet it tastes sour. Just like all of Dillan’s kisses. Bitter and acidic.

“You want to be my dirty little slut, lollipop?” Before I can answer, his mouth is on me, and I gasp loudly. “Slut.” I hear him call me, and I make no effort to stop him, to tell him not to demean me like that. But then again, I somehow like it.

Blue balls. This bitch is giving me blue balls. What the fuck am I supposed to do?

She’s needy. I like that. Needy bitch for my cock.

She wants to kiss me—I can feel it—but usually my fucks don’t kiss me, they kiss my cock and that’s it. And I need to remember that’s what she is. Just a fuck. But I’m too slow to stop her. That’s a lie. I want to let her kiss me. Because I know what her pussy tastes like, and if her lips taste just as divine, I’ll gladly take all that she’s offering.

She likes dirty words. Maybe I should keep her as my little whore. To fuck whenever I want. But as I look into her eyes, her forehead coming to lean on mine, I know I can’t keep her. She was never mine to have in the first place.

Glancing down, those heels I love are on her feet. Rented. I didn’t even know that was a thing. With the amount of money I gave her husband, she shouldn’t need rented shoes. Just goes to prove what a dick he actually is.

Who is this woman and where has she been hiding?

I want to drain her while I fuck her, then somehow put her back together again.

Evil fucking bitch.

No one draws my blood. They are not that stupid. They wouldn’t even try. This little bitch between my legs doesn’t seem the least bit perturbed by her recklessness. It’s like she’s forgotten who I am. What I can do to her.

“Put yourself in me.” “You’ve got some nerve.” “Hey, you plan to kill me anyway, so what’s the harm?” she says right over my mouth, surprising me by digging the knife into my flesh. So, I reach my hand down to slide my cock inside her, following her fucking order. “Now, shut up and fuck me before I decide to kill you first.”

Dillan made me a shadow of who I once was. I don’t hate who I used to be. I kind of miss her.