“Bug, unlike you, I have no plastic or silicone toys in my life,” Aiden chuckles, winking at me as he speeds up on the open road. “Only the real deal for me.”
“You leave my bullet out of this.” I point a finger at him, and he snags it between his teeth.
“If only it were the bullet,” he murmurs around my finger. “There’s also the rabbit and that egg.”
“It’s not an egg,” yanking my finger free, I wipe it on his shirt. “It’s a clit stimulator.”
“Whatever,” he shrugs, grip tightening on the steering wheel. “They can go in the bin when we get back.”
“You can go in the bin when we go home,” I retort, crossing my arms and staring out the window.
“You haven’t needed them,” he counters.
“And?”
“You can toss them.”
“You’re not seriously jealous of a toy?” I ask incredulously.
“Not jealous,” he flicks on the indicator, changing lanessmoothly. “But I’ve told you before, when you moan, it better be for me. Your juices are to coat my lips, my tongue, my fingers, and my cock. If the sheets are ruined, it better be because you’ve been screaming my name at the top of your lungs, not because you’ve been fucking a plastic toy.”
Why do I get the feeling that my toys are going to vanish into thin air when I get home?
Turning to face him, I allow my eyes to rake over his sculpted body, a smirk playing on my lips. I really shouldn’t torment him right now, but I’m hungry, and getting under Aiden’s skin is my new favourite pastime. “What about my fingers?” I ask innocently.
Aiden’s eyes darken, his Adam’s apple bobs on a swallow. “Only if I get to watch,” he responds, his voice low and husky. He slams on the brakes as some idiot cuts across two lanes, causing us both to lurch forward in our seats. An unmerciful bang sounds from the boot, and for a brief moment, I think we’ve been hit from behind.
“I hope that fuckin’ hurt!” Aiden throws over his shoulder before turning his attention back to the road.
“Ah,” I mutter, feeling a rush of adrenaline from the sudden stop. “Is it wise to go for food with him back there?”
“He’s not going anywhere, bug.” We pull off at the next exit, I can’t help but look around and see how many motorists pass us by, completely unaware that there is a body rolling around in the trunk of the car.
“You’re stimming again,” he says, glancing at me with a knowing smile. “We’ll grab it to go if it makes you feel better?”
I nod, grateful for the compromise.
* **
The welding torch sputters to life in his hands, casting an eerie glow on his beautiful face. I count eight men so far, all known associates of David Walsh, all with similar tattoos on their hands as the man who stabbed Robbie.
I shuffle back on the workbench, sipping on my caramel frappe and taking in the chaos of the warehouse. One man is tied to a chair: given the fact that he’s the closest to Aiden, I’m guessing he’s up next. Another two are chained and gagged in the corner, forced to watch my man work his way through the group. There is a particularly chubby one with a sack over his head. I’ve yet to see his face; he has no tattoos that I can see, his hands are clean of ink—he does not fit the body type of the guy we’ve been looking for. I wonder what he did to end up in this situation.
Another two are lying on the ground, bruised, bloodied, and mangled. Their eyes are staring blankly at the ceiling, their bodies stiff from rigor mortis. They were the first two brought in. There is not a tooth or nail left intact on them. I watched Aiden slowly dissect the tips of their fingers, one by one. All the while, he taught me that the fingertips contain over three thousand touch receptors and are one of the most sensitive parts of the body. I’ll admit, I zoned out for a while, too busy examining my own fingertips and wondering what it would feel like to have them cut off.
One man is currently in the adjoining room, missing an eye and part of his jaw.
The stench of blood and decay wafts through the air, I know my own pet is currently wishing he was never born. Aidenwanted me to have my own body to dissect, probe, and do whatever it is that he does with his victims. He quickly ruled this guy out as the man who stabbed Robbie; his alibi, if you could call it that, cleared his name for the incident involving my future brother-in-law but shone a light on him being a sexual predator. Of course, Aiden thought it would be a great gift to allow me free rein.
I’m not sure if my approach disturbed or delighted Aiden. I think a bit of both.
“Babe?”
Aiden turns to me with a curious expression.
“He’s foul,” I nod in the direction of the locked door near the staircase. “Should we end it now or?”
The flame from the torch sputters, leaving behind a trail of smoke, Aiden places it back down and approaches me. “We should check on him first, yeah?” Snatching the jar of Vicks Vapo Rub from the workbench, he opens it, dabbing a bit under my nose and his before heading to the door. “Just in case,” he says with a wink.
