Chapter 9
E verly
The bathroom mirror returned an image that I stared at in confusion. I’d stumbled out of bed on my alarm, bleary-eyed and thankfully alone, then made my way into the bathroom to press the button for the shower. It sprang to life, hot water thundering down in the stall and steam instantly forming. The shower had a sealed brick wall. I’d never seen anything like that.
I’d also never seen myself looking like I did now. My top had been torn down the centre and hung from me, exposing my breasts in a lewd display. I gawked at it, at a loss as to how it could’ve happened. The cut through the silk was a straight line, not like I’d ripped it.
More like the slice of a blade.
I set my jaw, the answer coming to me fast. Shedding the ruined garment, I stripped and got under the water, ignoring the sting from the little cut on my foot to lower the shower head so it hit my back and not my hair. I’d forgotten to ask Connor to bring me a hairdryer, and he wasn’t likely to have his own.
But as my hand passed down my chest, it glanced over dry patches on my skin. I gazed down, and another suspicion formed. I hadn’t looked closely at myself in the mirror, only my top, but there was a substance spattered over my breasts.
Shock rippled over me, followed by heat.
He’d done this?
Of course he had. There was no other answer. In the night, Connor had been up to no good over my sleeping form. Strong emotion chased my surprise, but it wasn’t a negative one.
I should have been furious. Instead, I was turned on by the thought.
A short breath took steam into my lungs. My fingers slid down my body to between my legs, and I touched myself with the dried cum still on my hand. I was soaked and slippery, and I rubbed my clit, heat taking over all of me, and images of what he’d done appearing behind my now-closed eyes. God, this was depraved. I also didn’t care because a strange effect was in play.
Connor still owned the part of my brain that linked to my sexuality. He’d fucked his fist over my body and cut my clothes to reveal me to him. A moan left my lips, and I sank against the shower wall, widening my legs to allow better access. I wished I’d brought my vibrator in here with me, but too bad. This unexpected boost of instant horniness needed satiating and fast. There wasn’t the time to play around.
My wrist moved faster. Pleasure shot through me, every cell compelling me to continue. To get to where this was leading. The path he’d started me on.
“Oh God,” I moaned again, trying not to say his name though it was his body which filled my thoughts as much as the sound of the rushing hot water filled my ears.
His hard muscles. His inked skin. His jutting dick and his avid gaze on my chest.
It mixed up the old memories I’d nurtured and made new ones, the difference between teenaged Connor and the hard-edged man he’d become delightfully exciting. He was dangerous now, a criminal. He walked through barriers he should respect.
Kidnapped me.
Taunted me.
Came over me.
“God,” I breathed, and deep down, my insides tightened. Another few passes, and I was gasping in the humidity and losing control of my words. “Connor.”
My orgasm built and built but didn’t yet hit. I slowed my hand to delay it a little more, living for the incredible feeling eclipsing every other one. The desperate want. My lips, needing a kiss, my nipples, sensitive from the shower’s spray, my legs which ached to wrap around him
My pussy, desperate to be stretched.
“Time’s up.”
My heart stopped. Frozen mid-touch, I jerked my gaze up. At the bathroom entrance, with his back to the closed door, Connor watched me. Our gazes collided.
God, when had he come in? How much had he seen or heard? The glass was steamed up, but there was no way he could’ve missed me in action. My hand was still between my legs.
I pressed my trembling lips together, my body shaking from the interruption. I clung to the precipice, unable to fall but losing my grip on the crumbling ledge.
Deliberately, he drew his attention over me. Then he pulled his hand from behind his back. And held out my vibrator. Switched it on.
My breathing shuddered.
He approached and opened the shower door with a swirl of mist. Handed me the sex toy.
Then the jerk lifted his chin. “Fuck yourself, Everly. So I can see.”
I gritted my teeth. Badly, I wanted to order him to leave, but at the same second, and with even greater force, I needed him to stay.
Reaching out, I snatched it from him and fitted it between my legs. I didn’t wait, thrusting it inside me. My body was so wet and ready, even more slick with arousal from his rude interruption.
The vibrator stretched me, the pulsing set on high, and I gasped, taking my thumb to the switch to reduce the intensity.
“Don’t ye dare,” Connor warned.
“It’s too much.”
“Take it.”
Fine. I needed to come. If he wanted to watch, that was on him. Mindless, I closed my eyes and rested back against the wall, my foot raised on the shelf, and my body entirely on display for him. Then I fucked myself with the toy.
My orgasm closed in like a train thundering down a track, all the stronger for his gaze on me and the powerful vibrations thrilling my insides. I whimpered and brushed over my clit with my fingertips, once, twice…
Pleasure broke inside me as an explosion. It crashed into every part I hadn’t touched, and I gasped. Killed the vibrations. Throbbed around the intrusion and wished it was him so he could feel it, too.
Pretending wasn’t enough.
The climax eased, and I breathed out, blinking in the damp air. Braced against the bathroom wall, Connor had his jeans open and his dick in his hand. He fucked his fist, staring right at me.
Lust drowned me again, my pussy pulsing in response.
Then I spotted something unexpected. The glint of a silver ring at the end of his dick.
God. He’d got a piercing?
I pushed the vibrator back in, slowly, teasing, as much for him as me this time. With my eyes wide open, it felt so exposing but at the same time liberating. I wanted him to be holding it, or better still, fucking me. I wanted to know how that piercing felt inside me.
With a groan, Connor came, cum shooting over his fingers and onto the bathroom tiles. I branded the sight in my brain. His rigid arms, those pronounced muscles, how he stared at me.
Connor exhaled, not hiding a smirk. Then he washed up, tucked himself away, and tossed a towel over the mess on the floor. With a final glance, and his tongue in his cheek, he left the bathroom, calling over his shoulder, “Better hurry. Ye don’t want to be late for work.”
Alone again, I sagged, my pulse speeding like it wanted to break me. In brisk actions, I finished washing then bundled myself up in a towel and set about getting ready for the day. In the bedroom, he was absent, so I dressed in the sexy lingerie he brought me and my smart dress, covering my arms with my blazer.
In my head, a hundred thoughts combined, shame one of them, but also a thrill I couldn’t deny. What we’d done had made me bold.
Once I was ready, makeup on and my work bag packed, I scooped up the ruined camisole and exited the bedroom with it. Connor was sprawled on the sofa, a knife in his hand that I had no business getting a buzz of excitement from. I extended the ruined item of clothing on my fingers.
“You owe me new nightclothes.”
His gaze flared at the challenge, then he gave an easy shrug and gestured with his head to the kitchen. “Grab your breakfast and we’ll go.”
On the kitchen counter, a travel mug waited with a selection of cereal bars next to it. Beyond, the fruit bowl was now filled, and packets waited to be put away. He’d gone shopping during the night.
I had no idea what to do with that fact aside from take the offering.
In silence, we descended in the warehouse’s lift and left the building by the rear exit into the lower car park. Connor directed me to a big, black vehicle with a menacing metal grille at the front. He got us going, and I cracked the window to help escape his addictive scent.
The fresh air woke up my brain. I had a long day ahead of me. A conference at the town hall with all of the councillors plus industry leaders and heads of charities. My father should have been back to attend, but he would only have come in to do the opening speech, so we could cope without him.
I had another, secret objective.
My second conversation with Genevieve on the roof had been carried out under the shelter of an umbrella she’d brought, September rain hastening our words. Cassie had been absent this time, but Genevieve gave over such startling information, I’d struggled to process it. Though she didn’t yet have information for me, she shared how they’d been investigating the death of the two women killed in Deadwater, and their suspects list included some of the councillors.
Men I’d be seeing today.
Like Father, many of the councillors used sex workers, and I knew this for a fact because they had done so in my home. Parties where the only women present were employed for their bodies were common enough, and I’d seen a number of the councillors in the act.
But that didn’t make them killers.
I’d promised I’d do some digging, but the idea made me nervous, and I clutched my bag on my lap, white-knuckled and distracted. We pulled up outside of Town Hall, and I gazed up at the impressive and official-looking grey stone building with its rows of windows behind which people worked managing the city. It was early, but people were here throughout the night dealing with emergencies and providing twenty-four-hour services, so the place was never empty.
I had a desk in the mayoral suite, which was above the tall stone columns marking the entryway. On the roof, a flag fluttered on a high mast, the sky brightening behind it, though clouds threatened rain. Today, I’d be in one of the huge conference rooms on the ground floor.
Not for the first time, I didn’t want to go inside.
A touch on my arm dragged my attention back to the present. I peeked around, and Connor drew his warm hand away. An almost magnetic pull urged me to follow the contact. I resisted.
“Don’t leave the building, and don’t stray from the public spaces. Stay visible and you’ll be safe.”
He meant from the gang that was chasing me. In my panic, I’d almost forgotten about them. There was no way they’d raid the centre of Deadwater’s local government to spirit me away.
I shrugged in a jerky motion. “I’m not worried.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m better at looking after ye than ye are yourself. I’ll be back at six.”
I sensed the weight of his stare all the way inside the building.
For the next hour, I was thrown into the usual hubbub of work. The conference room needed to be set up both with tables and catering, and also the technical side of microphones and cameras for the presentations required attention. Also countless pages of printing because many of the attendees still preferred paper over digital. We had a hundred people arriving, and I manned the entrance desk, personally greeting everyone and handing out name badges.
When the councillors arrived, I took them aside to wire each with a mic for their presentations, my mind going haywire over what Genevieve had asked me to do. When most of the guests were in, I circled the hall, checking people were where they were meant to be at the round tables, and that teas and coffees had been served.
Plus taking a minute to do a little secret data gathering, snooping through calendars and peeking at the folders I had access to.
Around the edges of the room, I’d arranged chairs for assistants to use, knowing that admin staff and PAs would be in and out of the hall, but at the very back, a man in dark trousers and a combat jacket sprawled in a seat he was several sizes too big for. I didn’t recognise him, and with his five o’clock shadow and thousand-yard stare, he didn’t have the vibe of the younger, ultra-helpful assistant-type. Or a name badge, now I looked properly.
I made my way over. “Hi, may I help you find your seat?”
“I’m good here.”
I shifted my weight, unease settling over me. What did I do if I suspected he was a gangster, run? I couldn’t just leave the conference. We had security guards throughout the building but none in the room.
“Can you please tell me which organisation you’re from? Forgive me, I don’t remember seeing you at the desk but I’d really like to help you find the right place to sit.”
The man dragged his focus from the attendees then opened his coat. A skull patch was stitched to the lining, and it took me an embarrassingly long moment to realise his meaning. He was part of the skeleton crew. Connor’s people. He was here to watch over me.
Something softened in my chest. Then it hardened right back up as my gaze touched on the hilt of a weapon beneath. Holy cow.
Faking a smile, I backed away. “I can see you’re good right here. Help yourself to coffee and pastries. Lunch is at twelve.”
He gave me a short nod, and I hustled away, intercepted almost immediately by Mary Pressley, one of the councillors.
Her hair escaped her bun, and she clutched my hands, panic radiating off her. “Thank goodness, Everly.”
“Is everything okay?”
A shake of her head loosened more frizz. “Most certainly not. I’m having an anxiety attack and haven’t brought any of my medication.”
Shit. We were moments from starting, and Mary was down to do the opening speech. This was not ideal.
I led her to a quieter part of the room, thinking fast. “I’m so sorry you’re suffering. Can we send someone to get your meds, or would you prefer to go home? Either option’s absolutely fine.”
Her fingers shook in mine. “I can’t leave. I’ve sent my PA to my house, but he’ll be an hour.” At last, her gaze locked on to mine. “I can’t do the speech.”
I nodded, only wanting her to take a breath and calm. Anxiety was a horrible condition. “Like I said, everything is okay. We can find someone else to do the speech.”
“We can’t. Nobody else knows it. I can’t… I just can’t…”
“Do you have your notes?”
She rifled through her bag, dropping it then sinking to her heels to extract a printed page. I took it and scanned the words. I’d already seen a draft of what she was going to say, and the major points were known to me. It outlined the purpose of the conference—to bring together the leaders of Deadwater and generate ideas for the next city plan—and gave a cheery, upbeat start to the day.
I helped her up, pressing her fingers. “I’ll do it.”
“You—you will?”
“Of course. It’s not a problem. Go and grab a chamomile tea and sit somewhere quiet for a while. I promise you, this is fine.”
“Oh, Everly, you’re such a kind person.”
The show had to go on. If my father knew I’d not solved this, it would come back on me. I didn’t love public speaking but I could do it, particularly if just reading from someone else’s script.
In a minute, I’d got myself set up with a mic and earpiece to hear the cues and stepped up onto the stage. Then there was a camera in my face, and a hush drew over the room.
I swallowed, remembering the pose I needed to strike from my training. Shoulders back, hands clasped lightly in front of me, and my gaze moving across the room until all eyes were on me.
“Welcome.” I smiled and launched into the introduction like a pro. I covered off housekeeping—the fire exits, the break times, the bathrooms—then dove into the city planning agenda with enthusiasm.
People smiled. The anxiety-suffering Mary Pressley sat rigid in her seat but wasn’t shaking anymore.
This was going well.
“Is it the backlight or has her ass always been that big?” a voice said in my ear.
I stumbled over my sentence and stared out at the audience. Only the other speakers were wired for sound, and one of them had made that comment, overheard via the earpiece hidden under my hair. I couldn’t tell who, but embarrassment had me shift my position, trying to make myself smaller.
Regaining my poise, I moved into the next part of the speech, speaking clearly while narrowing in on who could’ve spoken. At the row of tables nearest to the front, two of the councillors sat together, both smirking and one leaning on the arm of his chair to take him closer to his buddy.
Anton Blake and Benjamin Slaughter. The men Genevieve had told me were on her suspects list. I didn’t know what had put them there, but those thoughts were eclipsed by one of them opening his ugly mouth again.
In a light-brown suit that matched the colour of his nice-guy-neat hair, Slaughter leaned into Blake, hiding his mouth with his cupped hand like that made a difference. “Someone needs to introduce that bitch to the gym.”
Blake snorted and slid his round glasses down from where he’d rested them in his wedge of pale-blond hair. He ogled me. “But look at those tits. They’d vanish if she dieted.”
“True. She’d be flat as a board and entirely unfuckable. At least with tits like that, you can close your eyes and hang on for dear life.”
They chuckled between them, and sweat broke out on my brow. Still talking, I checked the expressions of the people nearest them, but no one else showed anything but benign attention to my speech. The two councillors were having a cosy little chat about my body. How dare they? How could they speak about any woman like that?
Hot tears pricked the backs of my eyes.
I continued, getting through the speech and maintaining my composure as best I could. I’d worked hard to be in this position. It had cost me so much, and as good as I was at this job, I sometimes wondered if I’d made the wrong choice in taking it. In persuading my father that I was a good fit.
Yet here were two men who were friends of my father, openly discussing me as if I were a piece of meat, and it hurt . I’d always been conscious of my body shape and had suffered shitty comments in the past. But this level of brazenness stung.
My confidence took a hit. I finished, hoping my shock didn’t show on my face, then left the stage to polite applause and took my seat to welcome the next speaker.
Only someone who knew me well would know how that overheard conversation crushed me. There were none of those people here.