The Whore Read Free Page B

appeared utterly unfazed as he quickly drew up a leg and spun around to plant the bottom of his leather boot in the second boy’s chest. Apparently the boy had gotten back to his feet. That ended quickly as the boy flew backward, landing with a thud on the other side of the alley.
    Her gaze landed on the blond man’s companion. Tall and lean, he had brown hair and a handsome face. Like the blond man, he wore a brown tunic, tan breeches and leather boots. Each man had telltale shells woven into their hair. Pirates.
    Pirates. They embodied everything she craved. Freedom. The sea. Power.
    The brown-haired man held two daggers. Casually spinning the knives in his hands, he smiled at the third boy, who now had his back to the wall. Still focused on the boy, the man jerked a nod at Bryn. “You giving this chap a hard time?”
    The fucker’s eyes were wide, scared. “No—I just wanted his—”
    Bryn barely saw the knife fly out of the man’s hand. She heard a whiz, and then the dagger was stuck in the side of the building, barely an inch from the boy’s head.
    His voice was high and full of fright. “Please...I didn’t mean any harm.”
    “Get the fuck out of here.”
    The boy who’d wanted her jewel needed no further invitation. Seizing the moment, he fled, his footsteps falling hard and fast as he exited the alley.
    Then, silence. The other two boys were unconscious lumps on the ground, leaving Bryn alone in the alley. With the two men. Facing them, she clutched her dagger to her chest. However, these were men—these were pirates. Fighters. She knew she wouldn’t have a chance.
    “Don’t worry, boy,” the blond man said. “We won’t hurt you.” In the dim light, she could see his wide blue eyes and thick black lashes. His face looked as chiseled as the exterior of the brothel walls, and a jolt of awareness shot through her.
    Shaking it away, she looked to his friend. That was a mistake. A second jolt of awareness struck her, this time like lightning. In the moonlight, his shaggy brown hair flashed with sun-kissed tones. He possessed a tall, sturdy build and had an easy manner about him. But based on the way he’d overtaken the men who’d attacked her, she had a feeling his demeanor was deceiving.
    He plucked the knife out of the side of the alley wall. “Fucking punks. I suppose they wanted your earbob.”
    Her fist clenched around the hilt of her knife. Eventually, she nodded.
    “No worries, chap,” the blond man said. His gaze raked over her and even though it was dark, she saw a glimmer in his eyes. “We won’t hurt you.”
    She believed him. For some reason she believed him. But what did they want?
    “Be safe,” the brown-haired man said. Then, with one last glance he draped his arm over the shoulders of his companion, and they walked away.
    Clutching her knife, she stared after them. If Bryn knew about one thing, it was sex. And, as she watched how they interacted—their constant physical contact, the way the blond man brushed a lock of hair out of his friend’s face—she was quite certain they were more than friends. They were lovers.
    That hot awareness from earlier? Yeah, it had just landed in her gut. Of course, all men lay together. She’d never been picked to participate in a ménage. However, on several occasions Bryn had spied on Roses who had participated in such scenarios. She’d found the scenes shockingly erotic, and had gone as far as to spy through a balcony window while she touched herself.
    A hot flush crept up her neck at the memory. It was the one thing she’d actually wanted to do with a man. It was the one thing she’d seen men do that aroused her. She’d seen a Rose sandwiched between two men, both her holes filled at once. There’d been a tenderness in that encounter Bryn had never experienced. The ménages were always talked about with reverence, as the most desirable Jahns. They treated a Rose with respect and always gave her pleasure.
    Watching the men kiss had