Taking a hold of his cock, I slowly lower myself onto him.
“You said you like when I’m on top.”
His lips pull into a grin. “I did. And I do.”
Hands gripping my waist, he watches me fuck him, tits bouncing in his face as I ride him hard, feeling a third orgasm start to come on, winding deep inside me. I pitch forward, hands on his chest, almost weak from sex-induced bliss, and move my hips in a circle.
Hasan’s breathing quickens and his fingers press into my flesh. He bends his legs up, hitting me from another angle and bringing me down against him. Then he comes, and feeling his cock pulsing inside of me is all I need to send me over the edge.
In a swift movement, he holds me tight and rolls over, finishing on top with his cock buried balls-deep inside of me.
Panting, heart racing, and sweat dripping down my brow, I let my arms fall to my sides. Hasan pulls out and lies down next to me, pulling me onto his chest. We stay like that, recovering in silence, for a few minutes.
“I’ll get the shower ready for you,” he says, brushing hair out of my face. He kisses me once more and gets up, flying up to the second story and landing over the balcony instead of taking the stairs. I smile and exhale heavily, not yet ready to get up.
* * *
I wake up alone,which isn’t unusual. Hasan isn’t much of a cuddler after sex, and after sleeping all day the last thing he wants to do is lie in bed with me as I sleep. My heart is racing and my mind is fuzzy. I had a nightmare, but I can’t remember what it was about.
But I know Jacques was in it.
And Braeya.
I close my eyes and push my hair out of my face. It’s still damp from the shower, letting me know I haven’t been asleep for all that long. Seeing everything through Braeya’s eyes, I saw her with Jacques. They were standing around a fire, and Jacques was holding something.
Thinking back, I try to conjure the image from the dream. It was a necklace. That’s what he was holding. There was some sort of symbol engraved onto the stone, but I can’t remember what it was.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I replay it all in my mind. And then it comes rushing back. Jacques holds up the necklace, and firelight reflects off the shiny obsidian stone.
“Be careful, Acelina,” he says, eyes drilling into mine. “The Dark Ones are coming.”
6
Irake my hair back over my shoulder with my fingers before twisting it up into a messy bun at the top of my head. I stare down at the papers on the desk. I’ve been at work for an hour staring at the few details we have on the murder from yesterday. Picking up the crime scene photos, I lean back in my chair and prop my feet up on the bottom drawer of my desk.
The body was moved. Posed and displayed for shock value. I look over each photo and trade them for the coroner’s report. The official cause of death was blunt force trauma to the back of the head. My victim has defensive wounds all over her, but there’s no sign of sexual assault.
We still haven’t gotten an ID on her.
I set the files down, mind jumping back to the basement filled with animal blood.The Dark Ones. What the fuck are Dark Ones? It’s such a vague term used over and over throughout literature and in movies to represent something bad.
Crazy cat lady Mrs. Green is just that—crazy. And dreams can just be freaky dreams. Not every single dream I have with Jacques in it is some divine intervention. I’ve had my fair share of normal dreams about all the guys before.
But this was different. I just know it.
“Hey, Ace,” Tiffany Woo, a crime scene photographer and the closest thing I have to a friend, says as she walks by my desk. “Are you all right?”
I snap my head up, blinking rapidly. “Yeah. Fine. Just, uh, deep in thought.”
She lowers her eyes to the photos on my desk. “I’m glad I wasn’t the one to photograph that scene. You know that weird stuff freaks me out.”
Nodding, I force the old Ace to come to the surface. “And you know that weird stuff is a bunch of bullshit.”
I hate lying, specifically when people lie to me, but it doesn’t feel much better when I do it too, even though it’s for her own good.
“I can hope. That looks like a demonic sacrifice or something.”
I bring my finger down on the symbols painted in blood on the walls. “They didn’t know which demon to summon, though.”
