Now though? I couldn't imagine doing this without my men. Having someone to talk about this stuff with, was keeping me sane. I knew the value of that as a serial killer. Sanity was fragile. Something easily taken from us if we let all of this get to us. We'd escalate and do something stupid. Go on a killing spree or expose ourselves in some way.
No, I had to hold onto my sanity with everything I had.
Archer placed his hands on my shoulders and turned me around so he could massage the tension out of them.
"You're doing a good thing," he said. "The percentage of people who see wrongdoing in the world and actually act on it is smaller than it should be. If they see other people doing the right thing, they're much more likely to do it too. There are whole chapters in psychology textbooks about it."
"I wish I could say I'm surprised,” I said, dropping my chin to give him better access. "I've seen it firsthand. If a man is harassing a woman, people will watch or pretend they can't see until finally someone steps in. Then they'll do it too."
"You're one of the people who always steps in," Archer said. "You don't hesitate."
"So are you," I reminded him. "I've never seen you hold back when someone needed help."
"Yes, but the things I do aren't suitable for public consumption," he said in my ear. "So I resort to writing about it instead."
"We all do our part," I told him. "All of us are doing what we can."
"Sometimes it doesn't feel like it's enough." He exhaled softly, his breath soft and warm on my neck.
"I know what you mean," I said. "Sometimes it feels like for everyone we deal with, there's three or four or ten more still doing it." That was probably a conservative estimate.
"I wish that side of our lives paid better. Then we could do it full-time," he said, as dry as ever.
I choked back a laugh. "That would be living the dream, wouldn't it?"
Full-time serial killer had an interesting ring to it. Who would pay us? People were professional assassins, so I supposed there was a market for it.
Unfortunately, in our case, the people who were the most likely to pay for our services were also the people we were dealing with. People with power and influence. People who'd pay an assassin to take us out if they knew where to find us.
Cops, I could deal with. A professional assassin was another thing. Part of me was curious how I'd measure up again them. Mostly, I didn't want to know. I suspected I wouldn't come out of it alive. Maybe I wasn't giving myself enough credit. It was possible I'd take them down with me. I'd give it a good try. I hadn't given up anything without a fight yet. I wasn't going to start any time soon.
"Until then, I better keep on cooking." I looked out into the seating area, as Yvette and Shelly packed up the last of the dishes. The remaining customers made their way out the door.
They seemed to have enjoyed their lunch. They tipped well. Of course they did. I made sure the food and service here was impeccable.
Hopefully Archer would remember that when he was writing his play.
"Have a great night," I said as they grabbed their things to head out the door.
"Thanks, Chef," Yvette called over her shoulder.
She reminded me too much of Erin. So much so, I kept my distance from her, making sure to be professional and not too friendly. Gina used Erin against me. I didn't want anyone doing the same to either of these women.
Cass stacked the last of the crockery into the dishwasher, turned it on and turned around.
"I made you a promise," he said, his eyes dark. "You're going to have at least one orgasm before we leave."
"I like that promise," Archer said approvingly.
"Of course you do. Listening to Harlow come is better than music." Cass laced his fingers and rested his hands in front of himself, over his cock.
"Archer, take her clothes off. Taste her pussy."
Archer didn't tend to jump when Cass told him to, not in the way Boner did, but he didn't hesitate to ease my chef jacket off my shoulders and place it aside before starting on the rest of my clothes.
I stepped out of my pants and my panties and let Archer lift me up and place me on the clean counter. His eyes on me, he knelt down in front of me and parted my thighs with his hands.
"You smell like heaven," he whispered, all but burying his nose in my pussy. He teased my clit with first the tip of his nose, then the tip of his tongue. Drawing my clit between his teeth and sucking gently.
