“Your desperation is even stronger than your perfume,” I tell her nonchalantly with a sniff, tilting my head down, seeing her work uniform dishevelled, a white button missing two down from the top, her skirt ruffled, hiked up on one side.
I frown, realising what that means, where she was, who she was with, before she came here tonight. What she might have been doing when I found her in here ‘cleaning’.
He’s back.
I lift my gaze back to hers, glaring as I look at her.
“Thank you,” she giggles, pretending not to understand my insult at all, but she’s a smart woman, she’d have to be to survive this long, so I know she knows it was a jibe. She glances over my shoulder, smiling again before looking back at me, “I-”
My ears ring, my entire body automatically dropping down into a crouch as a hole blasts through the wooden door we’re leaning against. I dart behind the sofa, pressed up on my toes ina low crouch, making sure I’m away from the door. I look up at the hole, a mere inch from where my head was, the wood like a comic book‘kapow’speech bubble shape.
Imogen’s screaming somewhere to my left, but I don’t give a fuck, shaking her off of me when she flings herself at me, grabbing for my arm.
“Shut the fuck up!” I spit at her, unable to hear myself, trying to get my bearings from my position behind the couch when another shot fires.
This time it fires right into the fucking chair at my back, and that’s when I realise where it’s coming from.
Insideof this fucking room.
I’m standing up without giving it another thought, striding right up to Penelope and grabbing the barrel of the gun, a little warm from where she just tried to fucking shoot me.
“Little Lamb,” I say smiling, the metal of the Glock feeling warmer inside my palm, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
She smiles up at me, a slow bat of her lashes over the creamiest dark brown eyes I’ve ever seen, and she steps in close, eradicating the distance between us. The silk of her nightgown tickling against the exposed skin of my abdomen causing a slight shiver to roll through me. She lifts the gun,mygun, higher, digging the muzzle into the centre of my forehead, my dick instantly growing hard, balls tightening, a different sort of feeling races through my veins. And I think about fucking her, letting her keep this gun pressed right up to my skull as I ram my fucking dick inside her, slap her tit, bite her neck, dig my fingertips into her arse cheeks so hard she can’t sit down for a week on anything but my cock.
The look in her eyes, a swirling vortex of madness and lunacy, hate and anger, a little drop of fear, all of it making her look just a little bit insane. It only makes my blood heat hotter,my cock weep with desperation to get to her, feel her tight walls squeeze around my length, soak my balls with her desire.
But a screeching noise at my back, something that sounds like a strangled ferret, shatters my thoughts, crushing my next move before I can even attempt it.
“Billy!” Imogen squawks, “do something! Are you going to let her get away wit-”
“Get the fuck out!” I roar at her, not bothering to turn my head, my eyes remaining on Nellie’s, her anger pulsing through her entire body, thrumming down her arm, the emotion so strong I can feel it all the way down the barrel of the gun.
“But-”
“Get the fuck out, Imogen, orI’llbe the one using the gun.”
The door opens and slams closed at my back without further hesitation, leaving us in silence.
Nothing but Penelope’s rapid heartbeat, her quickened breath, can be heard in the room.
My excitement palpable, I can’t stop the smile curling my lips, a dimple divoting my cheek, “Hello, Penelope.”
I reach up, stroking a strand of long dark hair behind her ear, a tremble rocking through her as my knuckle brushes her cheek. I bring my face down to her level, the gun staying on me, the hammer of the weapon now almost touching her head where I’ve killed all space between us, her hand held up in an awkward position, she couldn’t shoot now even if she tried.
“You doing okay there, Little Lamb?” I ask her in a teasing whisper, a soft smile still on my mouth. I lean in closer, bent forward enough to put us face to face, the gun between us, “You jealous, baby girl?”
She smiles back, but it’s not a nice smile, it’s something devious and sharp, something meant to cut. She says nothing, still smiling, and I lick my lips, pressing my own head harderagainst the gun, it makes her hand tremble, but she doesn’t move.
“You’re so fucking hot when you want to kill me.”
She smiles wider, unnervingly, but I don’t back off, don’t give her any space, but I can feel her shaking with anger, like a warning to do just that.
“You going to shoot me, Little Lamb?” I ask her with a hint of mocking, a little bit of want and fear both rolled into it too.
Nellie breathes in deep, cocking her head, tongue licking over her rose-tinted lips, the tip of it catching the base of the weapon in her hand, her smile drops, her eyes staying on mine, “No,” she replies calmly, voice soft. “I don’t want to shoot you,” she tells me honestly. “But I do want to kill you.”
Her smile’s back, and this time I want to lick it off of her mouth, force my tongue down her throat and suck out her heart, feast on it and then force my own inside her empty chest cavity just so she can never leave me, a piece of me forever in her.
