I can’t hold in my whimper this time—it’s followed closely by a moan when he moves his finger back and forth.
Slowly pumping, vibrating with the pulsing of the engine beneath me.
I tighten my grip on the handlebars, my body filling with tension. His persistent circles, the teasing, the look in his eyes… all of it pushing me further to the edge.
I arch my back as the deep ache inside of me becomes intolerable, tensing, gritting my teeth as I tamp down my scream.
Rí increases the pressure one last time and I can’t—it’s too much, my body shakes, and I cling on to the handles with white knuckles. It feels like I’m climbing higher and higher, andoh, fuck,when I crest that ledge… A scream bursts out in ragged, strangled gasps as I fight to hold it in, rough and raw, as I come all over his fingers. But Rí doesn’t stop, and I whimper as he drags it out. “Please, please,” I beg him because it’s too much—I can’tbreathe—I can’tthink; I’m completely at his mercy.
“You do look pretty when you come.” He smiles. “Truth or dare, little Rose?”
“I think it’s your turn…” I mumble, breathless.
25
MYSTERY GIRL
KOEN
Now
Something’s burning.
The overwhelming scent of charred…somethinghits me just as soon as the elevator doors open up into the loft.
“You’re clearly doing it wrong.”
“Reagan, I swear to god, if you say one more word?—”
“What the fuck is going on?” I ask, stepping into the kitchen to what can only be described as utter chaos.
Liam’s at the range, the pan he’s holding is billowing out black smoke from under the lid he’s holding pressed down tight. Meanwhile, Alex is in the middle of dumping yet another pan, this one still on fire, into the sink, scrambling for the sprayer to put out the flames. And in the middle of it all is Reagan, my menace of a little sister, sitting on the countertop, arms folded, watching the two of them with a frown on her face.
I scan the rest of the kitchen, finding Aidan brooding at the table, ignoring the chaos and staring out the window at the courtyard garden.
Reagan notices me first. “Well, well, well… look what the cat dragged in.” Her eyes sparkle and the look I give her holds a warning.
Liam and Alex’s heads both pop up. There’s so much smoke, I’m surprised the smoke detector hasn’t?—
The alarm wails. Liam shoves his still smoking pan into the oven, shutting the door and looking irritatingly pleased with himself. I run a tired hand over my face and stalk over to the coffee maker.
It’s empty.
Of course it’s empty.
“Your job,” Reagan chirps from her perch on the counter. “You missed breakfast. We thought you were dead.”
“No we didn’t,” Alex chimes in, finally winning the battle over what I think was supposed to be pancakes. “You can’t make jokes like that in a mafia household,” he scolds, shooting Reagan a look.
Reagan just grins, swinging her feet.
I’m too tired for this.
I set about making coffee, my head pounding from lack of sleep.
Liam manages to turn the alarm off, and then the questions begin.
“So where were you?” My sister hops down off the counter, grabbing a mug and swapping the coffee pot out for it just as it starts to brew.
