The Alpha Men's Secret Club 3: Fallout: A Scorchingly Hot BBW Shifter Romance

The Alpha Men's Secret Club 3: Fallout: A Scorchingly Hot BBW Shifter Romance by Dawn Steele

Book: The Alpha Men's Secret Club 3: Fallout: A Scorchingly Hot BBW Shifter Romance by Dawn Steele Read Free Book Online
Authors: Dawn Steele
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the back of her hand softly.
    There was a cluster of cars at the large parking lot and several valets waiting to take their keys.
    “This is where we get off,” Rust said , getting out to open the door for her. He was dressed in a simple white linen shirt and matching pants. But Kate knew that underneath, he wore the bare minimum. Like herself.
    She was very self-conscious when she stepped out of the limo. Self-conscious that Hector knew what was underneath her mink coat. And self-conscious that everything would be revealed publicly once she went onto the gardens.
    “Don’t worry,” Rust murmured. His arm was wrapped protectively behind her back. “Once you get into the mood, everything will come naturally.”
    Her naked pussy underneath was starting to leak, if that was what he was referring to. But that was because she was dressed so provocatively. It was because she was so ‘bare’ underneath. Her hormones were starting to go into overdrive because her mind was spinning with the implications. And Rust’s overpoweringly magnetic presence was always omnipresent. Always reminding her of what he could do to make her melt.
    It didn’t help that his thumb was now caressing the small of her back underneath all that mink. Back, forth, back, forth – the movement was both suggestive and proprietary.
    She found it difficult to walk on the cobbled path in her heels, but Rust shepherded her. There were other guests on the grounds. The grass was lush and verdant and obviously well-tended to. Little oddly-shaped stones were strewn here and there.
    Kate found herself studying the walking guests. They were in most part skimpily dressed, or dressed like herself and Rust. There were both men and women of myriad ages, or maybe it was difficult to tell in the wan light. They were chatting and laughing gaily, and they called out to one another in greeting.
    “You know anyone?” she asked Rust.
    “Some. But I’ve been out of the circuit for some time in New York, and so . . . no, mostly.”
    “Are other people flying in?”
    “Sometimes they do, but it’s not my party and I’m not privy to the guest list. Why do you care who I know anyway, Kate? We’re here to have fun.”
    She sucked in a breath. “I’m just wondering if Thomas and Carlo would be here.”
    “I don’t think so. This is a New York Ceilidh . I think they would find it difficult to wrangle themselves onto Aaron Mitchell’s guest list.”
    They walked farther into the grounds, where the thick trees enveloped them. Within the cluster of greenery, the lushness of the environment enveloped her like comforting arms. And then she saw the stones, and it was as if she was cast under a spell.
    Rust’s eyes were riveted to them too. She could hear his sharp intake of breath.
    The stones were monoliths about twice the height of a man. They were old and weathered, and seemed to be transported from Stonehenge or somewhere similar. But unlike Stonehenge, there were carvings on the stones. Runic carvings.
    “Want to see them close up?” Rust said.
    “Yes.” She felt the power of the place, like an electromagnetic current thrumming just beneath the surface of her flesh. Her atoms were vibrating.
    “Unnerving, aren’t they?” Rust said.
    “What are they?”
    “Ancient stones dug up from another land and transported here a long time ago. Aaron Mitchell went through a great deal of trouble and money to bring them over.”
    “Where are they from?”
    “Mesopotamia. This entire house is built on a ley line. A line of power. It’s a very old one running through New York state. Aaron Mitchell bought the land and built the house. Once he did that, he multiplied his billions, so the story goes.”
    “But he was already rich to begin with.”
    “The rich can always do with more spare change. Sometimes it’s not the money. It’s the competitiveness. Aaron Mitchell had a mission to climb up the rungs of the Forbes 100.”
    Music struck up. It was old music which

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