Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 19

Clara handed the cabbie some cash and headed towards her place. But as she turned the corner, someone clamped a hand over her nose.

She fought back, recognizing Colton's voice. "Didn't I warn you last time? Upset Quinn again, and I'd let the guys have at you. But tonight, Nate's got dibs. He's been itching for this, so brace yourself. He’s quite the expert in the bedroom. I hope you can handle it."

In a daze, Clara felt a bottle pressed to her lips. She swallowed half, clueless about what it was. She could only feel her body ignite with heat as everything blurred into chaos. Just one thought cut through the haze: if she made it through this, Colton would regret ever messing with her.

She was shoved into a car, her head knocking painfully against the door, momentarily clearing her mind before darkness took over again.

The car pulled up at a fancy hotel, and Clara was dragged into a room. Nate and Colton were tight with Simon. Colton had a thing for Quinn, while Nate had long wanted a taste of Clara. When Colton called Nate, he thought it was a joke. But Colton was dead serious, delivering Clara on a silver platter.

Nate stood by the bed, watching Clara in her dazed state. He felt his excitement boiling over. "Colton, you sure Simon won't flip if I go through with this?"

Colton sneered, dialing Simon. The call connected quickly. "Colton, what's up?"

"Nate's interested in Clara. If he goes for it, are you cool with that?"

"Of course. I'm way over her."

Colton smirked at the sight of Clara, barely conscious on the bed. "Great, we're all still buddies then."

Ending the call, he clapped Nate's shoulder. "He's good with it. Enjoy yourself. Make sure to snap lots of pics and vids. I want her scandal splashed all over by tomorrow!"

Nate could hardly wait, shoving Colton out. "Don't worry, I'll get everything on record. Don't bother me until tomorrow afternoon!"

One night wasn't enough for him. He planned to enjoy himself all the next day too.

Once the door shut, Nate lunged toward the bed. "Clara, I finally got you!"

The world was spinning, like a distorted painting. As she reached the first-floor corner, the heat surged again, making her want to rip off her clothes.

The sound of wheels approached, accompanied by a clear voice, "Can you walk?"

Clara looked up, struggling to focus. She saw Dylan, and instinctively stepped back, but her resolve was quickly crumbling.

The heat was unbearable, her body a desert craving relief.

She wasn’t sure how she ended up in a room with her hands fumbling around. Dylan's wheelchair was elegant, cool to the touch.

She collapsed by the bed. Her face was flushed, fingers brushed against the cool fabric, clinging to it desperately.

Dylan sat still in his wheelchair, watching her rub against his legs, like a cat desperate for attention.