“Maybe you’re worse,” he chuckles. His words hit me like bullets to my chest. Silence builds between us. Seconds feel like hours until he gives up waiting for my response. Rain begins to spill from the sky. Drops of water pound into the roof, filling the quiet before the sheriff speaks again. “You’ll be seeing me again, Mattie. But mark my words, we all get what we deserve.”
The phrase is a death blow. My body shudders, and I slide to the floor. Bile churns in my empty stomach as the room spins. His footsteps retreat, and finally, I hear his car pull away. I curl into myself and count each inhale before I blow out each breath through my mouth.
Once I regain control of myself, I throw open the door. The scent of bourbon and sweat is still heavy on the porch as I run through the pouring rain towards the trees. I tear off my soaked clothes once the lake comes into view, desperate to rid myself of everything I’m feeling. The water is cool as I rush in until only my head is above the surface. Wet hair clings to my face, and a scream tears through me, echoing out across Devil’s Pool.
“I know what you’re running from, little bug, but I’m more interested in what you’re running to,” a familiar voice whispers in my ear. Water splashes around us as I spin to meet him. His arms wrap around me and he pulls me into him. Our bare skin meets, and chills race along my spine. His lips hover over mine as a small cry slips out of me. Warmth spreads through my body, settling deep in my core as he traces my lips with his tongue. My neediness coils inside me, and I let out a shaky breath. He moans, arching his back and pressing his hips into mine. “Every exhale you take is a tiny gift to me.”
Lightning brightens the sky, and I take a sharp inhale. His fingers trail down to the apex of my thighs. My legs tremble as his fingertips brush through my folds. Every nerve in my body starts to hum as pressure builds in my core. He swirls my swollen clit with his thumb and he breaks through my entrance with one finger. My pussy is throbbing, begging for him to fill me with more. I curl one leg around him, rolling my hips in time with the thrust of his hand. Two more fingers join the first, pulsing against the spot inside me that will send me over the edge.
“That’s it, little bug. Break for me,” he moans into my neck. He nips at the thin skin below my ear, working his way down to my shoulder. I throw my head back and cry out. My hands flail in a frenzy to touch every inch of him as my building release becomes a storm inside me.
My stranger’s hand grips my ass firmly, and he lifts me up. The breeze sends tingles zipping across my skin, amplifying the feeling of his touch. He brings me down onto his hardened length, stretching me to my breaking point. A scream tears through me, and I roll my hips into his, not able to get enough of him. The pulsing of his cock inside me synchronizes with my walls trying desperately to get him to fill me even further. His pace quickens until I swear we’re both vibrating at a frequency so intense, I lose control over my body. He ruts into me again and again until I’m completely at his mercy. I can’t tell where my body ends and his begins.
“Eyes on me,” he growls, and I oblige. I can’t get enough air in my lungs to argue, even if I wanted to. The edges of my vision blur until I’m unable to keep my eyes open. My mind floods with images, like playing a movie, of our first night together. Lightning cracks again, sending tendrils of light across my closed eyelids. The air, charged with unescapable electricity, raises each hair on my body.
The mist surrounds him. His form changes shape.My mind slips into a murky darkness. A kiss on my forehead. And words. Familiar words. What is he saying?
“My name is Ripp, little bug.”
A violent surge of knowing unleashes from inside me as the barrier around those memories breaks, and I’m screaming his name. I know my stranger’s name.
“Ripp,” I howl. My voice cries out, strangled and broken. “Ripp.” Our releases unfurl together, melding into an explosion that sends shockwaves through the water—a shared moment of frenzied ecstasy. The woods surrounding us fall silent, like we’re the only beings who dwell here.
I melt into his chest, not ready to let go of this quiet moment, a feeling of calm that has never been within my grasp. His hands come up to brush the hair from my face, and I feel my legs become weightless once again in the water. I glance at my arms, and inky trails of black seem to disappear as they sink into my skin. I blink furiously to clear my vision, but the look on Ripp’s face tells me he saw them too.
“It’s time to go see the witch,” he says softly, bringing his forehead to mine and kissing me on the bridge of my nose.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
mattie
The path we take to the witch is dizzying. We wind through the thick trees with no rhyme or reason, going in circles for all I know. Ripp grumbles about the witch as we walk, but I only catch parts of what he’s saying as I try to avoid snagging my feet on the brambles. He pauses his complaining when he notices I’m struggling. Took him fucking long enough. He snaps his fingers, and the winding vines and brush recede to form a path. “This whole time,” I huff out, annoyed. “Why didn’t you start with that?”
“Impressed?” he coos, waggling his eyebrows. My eyes narrow, and sharp words sit at the edge of my tongue, but I continue walking.
“Why do you keep calling her ‘the witch’?” I ask changing the subject. “Doesn’t she have a name?” Ripp groans like I’ve asked him the most obvious question in the world.
“Old hag won’t tell me her name.” He shrugs his shoulders then throws his head back to laugh. “She doesn’t trust me enough, and I can’t say I blame her. I may have lost my temper with her a time or two.”
“What does knowing her name have to do with your bad manners?” I raise an eyebrow at him, knowing he’s probably thrown a tantrum more than twice in her presence.
“I told you, little bug. Names are power.” He side-eyes me, probably waiting for my next question. I don’t oblige him. Instead, I forge ahead in silence—and maybe a little spite at the fact that he could have cleared our path much sooner.
My legs start to protest, and I’m about to ask for a break, but a clearing suddenly appears between two trees tangled together, forming an arch. Ripp steps through first and offers me his hand. I raise an eyebrow at him but place my hand in his. He pulls me roughly through. Pressure builds in my chest but then clears as quickly as it came.
The clouds have finally cleared, and the sun has risen high enough to break through the trees and allow me to have a clear view of a tiny cabin. It’s not so different from mine but looks like it hasn’t been maintained for a spell, maybe several spells. “She lives here?” I ask, looking up at him.
“I didn’t expect you to be one to judge,” he laughs, shaking his head. “But yes, this is it.”
“I’m not judging,” I grumble, sticking out my bottom lip. “It just looks abandoned is all.” I gesture broadly with my arm towards the cabin. A figure steps out on the porch, and I immediately drop my arm. My cheeks heat with embarrassment. Maybe I was judging, just a little.
“Looks can be deceiving, girl,” the woman laughs. “You out of all of ‘em should know that.” Her voice sounds too close for how far away she is. Goosebumps break out across my skin.
Ripp gives me a little push on the small of my back to get me moving again. “She’s not wrong,” he says, following behind me.
“That’s because I’m never wrong,” the woman snaps, clucking her tongue. If Ripp’s eyes could roll out of his head, they would have at that moment. I look back and forth between the two of them, like there’s an inside joke I’m missing.
We make it to the porch, and I choke on a gasp. The woman is shorter than I am, maybe five feet tall if I’m being generous. Silver hair hangs down over her face, but between the strings, I can tell her eyes are all white. Her thin, white dress hangs on her small frame. The fabric is dirty, like she has been sitting in front of a fire for too long, and the hem is tattered. Her translucent skin looks delicate, as if it could tear like paper.
