He grips my chin, and I hold my breath as his warmth spreads through me. My skin tingles, and my pussy throbs. He backs me into the wall, his dark gaze dropping to my lips. Everything inside of me vibrates, hums, wakes up—because I’ve missed this. Him. His power. His authority. His ability to make me want to follow every command with just a word, a look, a touch.
“Do you think I need you?” He challenges.
“Well, your dating history leaves a lot to be desired.” I hit back, and I know I’m pushing his buttons, but as long ashe stays close, I don’t care what it takes. “And I want to look out for you.”
A cold, hateful smirk twists his lips. “Are you jealous, Monty?” he asks quietly, his voice more a feeling than a sound.
I swallow again, but my throat is still painfully dry. “No.”
“No?” His voice is rough. Erotic. I want to bathe in every sound, lick his lips with every word he says. “So you don’t think about us?”
A pleasant shudder has me leaning closer. “… No.”
“You don’t think about my cock and how hard you squirted on it?” he whispers in my ear, and I let out a quiet whimper. “You don’t think about being on your hands and knees on my kitchen floor, taking every inch of my cock in your ass?”
The words have my eyes almost fluttering closed. “Yes.”
He nibbles my ear, and I swear I almost come. “You want it again?”
“Yes.”
“You want my cum?”
“God, Guy, yes?—”
“Tough.” The word is harsh, and I blink back to the moment. “You fucked up. You fucked me, and you left. You made this choice, not me.” He lifts my chin. “I wouldn’t let you suck my cock again if you begged.”
The light flicks on.
We both whirl, and Gable is at the top of the stairs, eyes darting between us.
Fuck.
“That …” Guy backs away from me. “That wasn’t?—”
“Nope!” Gable turns on his heel and strides to the opposite end of the hallway. We follow. He puts his handsover his ears to block out our whispered, frantic explanations, until we’re eventually all in his and Ella’s room. He points between us. “Do not say another word! The more I know about this, the more I have to lie to my wife, and I do not like lying to my wife! I came upstairs, I heard nothing, I saw nothing, I will not confirm nor deny anything! Is that clear?”
We both nod.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have meats to barbeque!” he snaps and storms by us.
And we’re alone. Alone in this pain that I created. Everything I should have said before I left hangs between us, and I’m still not brave enough to voice any of it.
I look up at Guy, equal parts turned on and annoyed. “Guy, I’m sorry, okay? I had to leave.”
“But did you have to kill Seth Sinclair?” My skin chills at the sound of Seth’s name, and I grit my teeth. “His name was all over the news after you left. Murdered on Christmas Eve. That was a busy day for you, wasn’t it?”
I look away. “I don’t?—”
“His name was on the inside of the scarf, Lina!” he hisses, and my jaw tightens. “Not only did you bring a trophy from your murder into my house, but you used my fucking car to get to and from said murder. What the fuck were you thinking?”
Shame, and regret, and everything dark crawls through me. My explanations would make him understand, but that would mean the truth.
“I can handle being rejected, Monty. It sucked and stung, but whatever. But involving me in that?” He shakes his head. “That was just pure fucking selfish.”
He goes to leave, and I need to say something, explain myselfsomehow.
“He had to die, Guy. It was my only opportunity to do it, and I couldn’t miss out.”
