Taking by Masters Sarah

Author:Masters, Sarah [Masters, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: Erotic Romance Fiction
Publisher: Totally Bound Publishing
Published: 2014-11-26T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Frost lay in bed, flat on his back and staring at the ceiling. Tonight should have been the night he got the first good sleep in a long time, but still a decent rest evaded him. He should have just had those queers offed, got Jonathan or Kevin to kill the motherfuckers and been done with it. The whipping with the chain had just been something to assuage Frost’s anger at the way those men had messed with his head with their love for one another.

He’d built his life up, having been a street kid himself for a while in his mid-teens. He wanted to prove that kids from a broken home could get somewhere if they put their damn minds to it. Helping those lads downstairs have better lives than they had previously, pleased him to no end, even though he made out he didn’t give a fuck about them.

He did a good thing.

Frost thought back to his childhood, one where his mother hadn’t cared about him much. He hated her yet loved her just the same. He sighed and blinked hard.

His eyes itched.

As he’d grown older, he’d asked himself how he could love and hate someone in equal measure. By his early teens, he’d acted out at school, fucked about on the streets causing trouble, got in with a bad crowd. But that bad crowd had shown him how to become a runner, and he’d peddled drugs at night-time. This new way of life had given him a thirst for better things, showed him he could make it on his own without his mother. And he had once Parker had picked him up off the street and taken him to his home. To the home Frost now owned.

Frost had become Parker’s pet, had been trusted with the ins and outs of Parker’s trafficking business as Frost had grown from boy to man. And despite Parker preferring younger men, once Frost had arrived on the scene, Parker hadn’t taken another lover.

Frost had loved Parker to some degree, but not enough to stop him from killing the old fucker once Parker had written his will in Frost’s favor.

Ah, I’ve been a bastard in my time.

Yet Frost, the big man himself, was disturbed by feelings Briggs and Oliver had unearthed down there in the basement.

Frost wasn’t getting any younger. He needed the kind of love he had given Parker. Companionship.

Was Stephen Frost’s salvation or just another notch in his bedpost?

Those queers. Little bastards in love. Fucking up my day.

He should have them killed. Now.

Frost moved to get out of bed and reach for his mobile, but he couldn’t bring himself to give the order. He flopped back onto the pillow, a huff of air shunting out of him. Maybe he ought to get Stephen back in here. Frost could tell him a story until Stephen fell asleep. Or explain what he needed from him. Hate and love, love and hate. Perhaps Stephen would get it then, realize he had everything at his disposal if he’d only just love Frost for being Frost.

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