Prowl (The Game #12) Read Online Cara Dee

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Game Series by Cara Dee
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Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 114284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
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We couldn’t flee anymore.

When I turned onto Macklin’s street and pulled up outside his building, I took another deep breath and braced myself for his next reaction. Because I was changing our plans right now.

“It’s my turn to give you an assignment, love,” I said, killing the engine. “I want you to take tomorrow to think about how you want your relationships to look. If maybe you should place your dynamic with Lane on the back burner while you and I navigate a—I gotta be honest and say it’s a critical phase.” I reached across the console and squeezed his leg. “I believe you can be there for both Lane and me, but you can’t forget yourself in that equation. You’re gonna get stressed out peddlin’ between dominance and submission.”

He wiped at his cheeks, another sight that killed me, nodded once and looked down at his lap. “I know you’re right,” he mumbled. Then he glanced at me. “You seemed to be more on board on the plane—with me doing this with Lane, I mean. What changed?”

Nothing had changed where my approval was concerned.

“I’m still on board, pet, but you’ve set a pace I believe will cause more harm than good,” I replied honestly. “I thought your focus would be on us working on our marriage—and that Lane would get your extra time. I thought you were going to help him relax, not go straight to pushing him. He won’t react well to that.”

Perhaps I’d said too much. I could sense Macklin’s defenses slamming up.

“I haven’t pushed him,” he insisted.

I suppressed a sigh. “You’ve been his Dom for two days, and you’re already pressing him for complete honesty about his mental health insecurities. Now you’re planning playtime at the house too. Rather than giving him room to breathe, you’re cornerin’ him.”

That did it. He unbuckled his seat belt and opened the door. “We’re gonna have to talk about what a shitty Dom I am another day. I’m tired as fuck.”

There we go.

While he got out of the car, I resorted to those deep breaths that weren’t doing shit to calm me down so far. But I could fake it for a minute, maybe. Either way, I was staying put.

He leaned down to peer into the car. “Are you coming or not?”

“I don’t want to fight, Macklin,” I told him. “I think it’s best I go back to my hotel tonight. Neither of us is in a good mood, so if we take a step back and—”

His humorless laugh cut me off. “Breaking promises already. Why am I not surprised? You’re un-fucking-believable, Walker.” With that said, he slammed the door shut and walked away.

Anger burst through me in painful ripples, and I quickly realized it was plain hurt that covered the pain part. How could he throw that in my face? I wasn’t breaking any goddamn promises. I was reevaluating a situation that’d been deteriorating since the moment we’d gotten in the car.

As I drove away, I got served with a rock of bitterness too. Because in the past, this would’ve been one of those moments I called Dean. He would’ve let me vent. He’d been my sounding board. As I was to him. Or I used to be.

Goddammit.

I still couldn’t stop picturing him with Macklin. In bed together. Macklin bending over for Dean. Maybe begging him for more cock.

I clenched my jaw, conflicting emotions surging up a storm within me.

CHAPTER 2

Walker McKenna

Two days later, I had arranged for my things to be shipped from Boston at the end of the month. I had to go up there next week to make sure the last was packed, but other than that, I was good to go. Ready for DC to be my permanent address once more.

Macklin was avoiding me and ignoring my texts, so I didn’t go to his restaurant for lunch. And yesterday, he hadn’t been around when I’d stopped by. Instead, I met up with Lucian in Alexandria at an Asian fusion place that’d opened recently.

It was damn good to see him. Even though it hadn’t been too long since we’d hung out, this was different. I was home again. I was ready to reconnect with everyone in my community. And Lucian and I had always had a lot in common.

One of our friends from the West Coast was flying in tomorrow too, so we’d agreed to host a TPE demo together on Saturday.

Well. We hoped they were flying in. Everyone was talking about the next big Nor’easter slowly rolling toward us, with the temperature dropping quickly and the winds increasing. But so far, no delays had been announced.

“If Macklin hasn’t come around by Saturday, we can co-top Cameron,” Lucian told me. “To be honest, I don’t understand what your boy is up to.”

That made two of us. I unwrapped my chopsticks and felt my mouth water at the smell of the soup I’d ordered as an appetizer. Vietnam and Sri Lanka met American creativity in this place, and I was here for it.


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