What the actual fuck am I going to do now? I don’t know how to get rid of a body. Oh, shit. I’m going to get caught and get carted off to jail. I can’t go to jail. I’ll never survive.
Braxton’s dead. Scott’s… the reminder of the man I was protecting shoves the panic aside. My head flies up, my eyes landing on his still form.
With all the grace of a scared elephant, I scurry across the floor, doing my best to ignore the blood seeping into my pants.
“Scott!” I scream, shaking his body.
With a start, the man jerks upright, scaring the living shit out of me.
“Oh my fucking God,” I cry and fling my arms around his shoulders, shoving my face into his neck.
“Ava,” he chokes, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Hey, baby. Shh, I got you.”
“I had to do it. He was going to kill you. I had to.”
He must register my words. Pulling back and taking in the crime scene we’re currently sitting in the middle of.
In the blink of an eye, I’m off the floor and in his arms, being carried out of the room and back down the hall.
“Scott, what the hell. Where are we going?”
He doesn’t answer me. Just keeps his quick pace until his boot crashes against the bathroom door, and he pulls me into the shower with my clothes on.
“Strip,” he orders, and spins to turn the faucet.
The spout sputters, the pipes probably half-frozen from the source outside. After a moment, a steady stream of arctic water rains down between us.
“Jesus fucking christ,” I screech and jump back. If we’d run down to the lake and dived in headfirst, it would have been the same experience.
“It’ll warm soon. Strip down. But keep your clothes in here.”
Once we’re both naked, it’s hard to ignore the sinfully bare man in front of me, even after everything we’ve been through. His thick cock hangs long between his sculpted thighs.
“Ava,” he groans, huskier than usual, and my eyes flick up to his. “Stop looking at me like that, baby. We have other things to handle, first.”
I squirm, pushing aside the ache building in my core. But when he pulls my body back under the now volcanic water and begins scrubbing every inch of my skin with the scratchy loofa, it becomes impossible. His firm ministrations rub across my peaked nipples, then down to the junction between my thighs.
His knees hit the shower floor, and that ache explodes into a throbbing rhythm. My hands find his shoulders when he pulls one of my feet up to the edge, washing me down with precision. Not a spec of blood remains on my skin when his dark eyes lift to my hooded ones.
I still don’t know what the hell his plan is, but my only concern is dulling the need I have for him.
“Please,” I beg, curling my fingers in his dark salt and pepper locks.
His growl echoes above the water hitting the floor, but he doesn’t move to get up.
I tighten my grip in his hair, using it to bring him against my dripping pussy.
“You haveaminute to come, Ava.”
The tip of his wicked tongue licks up my slit, and pleasure zings through every nerve ending in my body. Circling my pulsing clit, his attack becomes animalistic. With how pent up I am, his command shouldn’t be a problem.
With one hand on my hip to balance me against his coarse beard, his free hand finds my entrance. There’s no slow prep like our first night together. He spears me, rough and fast, rubbing relentlessly against my walls, and the combination is seconds from throwing me over the edge.
“Don’t stop—fuck, Scott. Right there,” I moan, spurring him on.
The pressure on my clit changes, and I fall apart on his tongue. In a blur, before the euphoria wanes, he’s up, capturing my lips. The taste of my release still clings to him.
“Good girl,” he praises, pulling back enough to meet my gaze.
