Epilogue – Dominico
If a donkey’s bray could sound sweet, that was the noise coming from the other side of my bedroom door. I frowned, hand outstretched, and listened. The words were about being drunk in a truck bed, and…
What kind of an idiot wasted that heavy caliber on a bird? It would obliterate it.
I remained stuck in limbo as the song continued. There was only one person in this madhouse who would know lyrics like that. When Rae stopped to catch her breath, I waited. And sure enough, she began another song. This time about being drunk on a plane.
There really was nothing else to do in the sticks but drink.
Smothering my laughter and schooling my face, I opened the door.
The music stopped, the final note a yelp. Rae dropped the pillow she’d been tucking into a clean case on the floor.
“Sorry!” She shook herself. “I thought you were out for the day.”
“You’re comfortable here,” I observed.
The strange look she gave me was comical. “I beg your pardon?”
Beautiful. The flush on her cheeks, the way her chest strained against the soft blue uniform. She was stunning. And she was right there. Standing beside my bed.
“That’s good.” I shut the door behind me, watching her close, enjoying the small reactions play over her face. When I clicked the lock, her eyes snapped wide. I leaned back against the closed door and crossed my arms over my chest. “I want you comfortable…in my space.”
Rae shifted. She stepped to the side, then back. She seemed scrambled, caught in indecision. She looked around as if for explanation—or help. There was neither.
There’s no one to save you here, my sweet cherry. You’re in my lair now.
“Nico,” she warned.
The way my named sounded on her lips was a sweet summons to that darker place in my soul. “Rae.”
Flustered, she picked up the pillow and slapped it hard. My dick twitched to life with each slap. I wanted those hands on me. What would it take to make that happen? She’d already seen how easily I could kill. My sins didn’t scare her.
Rae fluffed the pillow once more and dropped it on the bed. Then she smoothed the cover, pulling it tight. The forbidden fruit was right there. It would take no effort at all to shove her onto the mattress, rip the uniform, and lay her bare beneath me.
My voice turned husky. “You shouldn’t be here.”
It was a warning to both of us.
“I’m just doing my job,” she stammered. Dio mio, she was trying so hard to be cool and unaffected. But we were both caught in this moment. And I was going to drag it out for all that it was worth.
“No, you shouldn’t be here. Touching my things,” I clicked my tongue. “Now tonight, when I lay down, I’m not going to get the image of you touching my bed out of my mind.”
She jerked her hands back as if the cover burnt her.
Glaring at me, Rae swiped a cloth from the bucket of supplies and began to dust my book shelf.
She purposefully put her back to me. Such a good little show she put on.
But I wasn’t fooled. The look in her eye was more than enough but coupled with the red tinge on her cheeks that she didn’t hide fast enough, it was powerfully addicting.
I prowled across the room, steps feather light, until she was inches away. I leaned down to whisper, “I like watching you work for me.”
“It’s not for you,” she snapped and turned. But the moment she brushed against me, she jumped back. “I’m done here, anyways.”
Her hip bumped into the shelf, making the staged décor rattle. Rae moved away, putting distance between us.
I had to hold myself back from pursuing her.
“Pity.” I tossed my gun, phone, and wallet on the desk. The last item in my pocket made me smile internally. The heavy wad of cash, secured with a silver clip, fell on top of the pile. “Have a good rest of your Saturday, Rae.”
She grumped something in reply, gathering her things.
Chuckling silently to myself, I went to the bathroom, closed the door, and pressed against it to listen.
There was a brief pause. I wished like mad I could see through the damn thing.
Had she walked away? Or was the temptation too great?
The sound of the bedroom door opening and closing boomed a moment later.
Smiling like a man possessed, I hurried out. Everything was on the desk where I left it. The pile was exact. Gun tilted to the side, wallet pressed next to it. The phone lay face up, and the money clip sprawled exactly where I tossed it.
I wasn’t fooled. Rae was good. Picking up the wad of cash, I thumbed through the bills.
“Would you look at that,” I chuckled. Forty bucks were gone. Such a meager sum.
The little thief took the bait. And I fucking loved it.
My money was tucked in her pocket.
“No,” I mused. Rae wouldn’t put it somewhere so risky. It was either in her bra, or in her shoe. Either way, I liked knowing she had it. I liked it too much, tempting her to steal from me.
But it was more than a fun game. My finger stroked the pile of bills once more. I wanted her to have my money. Tapping the thick pile against my palm, I racked my brains for ways to give it to her. Whatever she needed, I wanted to be the one that provided. And not because she cleaned my room.
That needed to end.
I’ll find a way. Because the truth was becoming painfully obvious. Magnolia Rae was mine.
TO BE CONTINUED in Crimson Night Heir.