23. Wrenley
Night descends swiftly as Dove prepares her duffel. Gilded rays slash through the forbidden room of her apartment, glinting off the blades in her dagger collection, desperate to soak into the costumes and wigs before fading with the sun.
My angel of death checks the screen of her pink iMac again, humming the Legally Blonde theme as she reviews her target’s requests for tonight. She returns to her clothing rack, selecting a light pink-colored babydoll.
A slow simmer heats my blood. The thought of another man seeing her in lingerie, touching her, drives me bat-shit crazy.
The feeling worsens as she glances over her shoulder, offering me a soft, knowing smile. “I’m sorry, Songbird, but the answer is still no. You can’t come with me. I don’t need the distraction.”
A low growl rumbles in my chest. Fang, who’s curled in my lap, immediately pushes to his feet, turns in a half-circle, and plants his front paws on my chest. He stretches lazily before offering a single, placating lick to my nose. Then, satisfied, he circles once more and resumes his nap.
Dove giggles, dragging my gaze from the rat back to her. “You’re cute when you pout.”
“It’s not cute,” I mutter. “I don’t like you going alone.” The thought terrifies me. How the fuck has she lasted this long without getting seriously hurt?
“Wren, I’ve been doing this for a while. I’ve had no problems.” She scrolls through her computer again before crossing the room, selecting the wig she wore the first night she came to me as the Doll.
“Things are different now, though. You don’t have to do this alone.” The realization hits as I say it—I mean it. The delusion of becoming romantically involved with her is now reality, and I’d willingly be her accomplice.
Just months ago, we hated each other. Now, I can’t imagine my life without her. Without her, the world is dull. Dim. A monochrome wasteland.
I need her—her sweet, sugary scent, her saccharine smile, her bubblegum persona. She makes me want to live my life in color… in her color. In spun shades of cotton candy, even when the darkness threatens to take over.
Dove must know I need her like I need air. I want to be her sanctuary in the chaos she surrounds herself with. “I know it’s hard to adjust to having someone you can rely on, Dove. But I need you to know—I’m here for you.”
She carefully places the wig in a hairnet before tucking it into a pink satin bag. Fang senses the shift in her energy before I do. He stands, jumps from my lap, shakes his stringy mane, then trots out of the room without a backward glance.
When I look back at Dove, she’s leaning against her white dresser, arms crossed, appraising me with those big blue eyes. She bites her bottom lip, barely suppressing a smile painted in strawberry lip gloss.
“What?” I rise to my feet, closing the distance, relishing the way lust darkens her gaze as it meets mine.
The tiny cut-off shorts she’s wearing barely conceal the curve of her ass. I palm it, effortlessly lifting her onto the glossy surface. I’m hard within seconds as she wraps her legs around my waist, rolling her hips into mine.
“I love how easily you’ve accepted this.” She slides her palms up my chest, nails digging into my neck as she pulls me down. “It’s hot to think of you by my side while I seek justice.”
One by one, she slowly undoes my buttons, pressing kisses down my chest as she goes. “But you’d be a distraction, Wren—one I can’t afford.”
“You know, I do realize that you use sex to distract me every time I bring this up.” I thread a hand through her hair, smirking as she presses a kiss to my abs, finishing the last button. My dick is granite, and all I want is to watch it disappear between her teasing lips. But before she can start on my pants, I grip her chin, tilting her head back.
A surprised squeal morphs into a giggle as I push her down, her legs tightening around my waist. “What are you doing?” she laughs, squirming as her ass barely balances on the dresser’s edge.
I make quick work of her shorts and lace panties, peeling them off one leg at a time. Her pussy is the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen. Pink and glistening with evidence of how turned on she is. Warm and wet and just waiting for me to sink my tongue into it.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Dove,” I whisper, kissing my way up her thigh as I sling one leg over my shoulder.
“Who’s distracting whom now?” she teases, but her words dissolve into a guttural moan as I lift her other leg and bury my face between them .
Her hands fly overhead, fingers stretching against the wall as she writhes, her shoulders the only thing still touching the surface. I rip the thin strap of her tank top down, exposing her heaving breasts.
“Wren!” she gasps, searching for anything to grasp onto. Her head falls back as I thrust my tongue deep into her heat, stroking before sliding up to tease her swollen clit. “Baby, that feels so good,” she whimpers, voice broken by desperate moans.
I love how easily she submits to me now. How fucking beautiful she is when she surrenders. It makes me feel powerful, the emotion so intense it’s like getting drunk. She’s intoxicating, and I’m an addict fiending for her all the fucking time. I never thought I’d find a woman who makes me feel the way Dove does. She’s awakened a power in me I didn’t even know existed.
Her hands find mine as I palm her breast, her hips bucking against my face. She tenses when I hit that sweet spot. “There! Right there! Just like that. Don’t stop, baby. Please don’t stop,” she begs.
I stop.
“Wren!” she cries, nails digging into my wrist. “No! Why?”
“Bring me with you.” I smirk against her pussy, smearing her arousal over my lips as I gently kiss her everywhere but her clit. Soft, closed-mouth kisses. And she can’t reach my head to pull me closer.
“I swear to God, if you don’t keep going, I will murder you in your sleep, Songbird.” Her tone is utterly non-threatening, making me grin wider.
I press another soft, chaste kiss to her swollen flesh. “How badly do you want it, Turtle Dove?”
God, I love having her at my mercy—bent nearly in half, upside down, her pussy on full display, ready for me to devour however I want.
Dove moves with intent, trying to escape my hold, but I can’t have her getting away just yet. I tighten my grip around her thighs and bite lightly around the spot she craves most.
“Ah!” Her back arches and a whine parts her lips on a moan. “Suck, Songbird, or your dick is becoming Fang’s next jerky batch!”
My chuckle ghosts over her wet, swollen flesh before I give in—not because she threatened me, I know she loves my cock too much to ever remove it from my body, but because I’m close.
Too close.
And fuck—I come.
Hard.
My dick jerks in its confines as Dove’s thighs clamp around my neck tightly when she comes. I’m sure she intends to suffocate me as a form of punishment.
Little does she know, I’ll gladly die from asphyxiation with her release on my tongue and her flesh in my mouth.
No, wait. That makes me sound like a cannibal.
Dove’s giggle pulls me from my spiraling thoughts as they return to the day I ate Fang’s jerky. “Fuck, Songbird, you’re really getting better at tongue-vincing me to do things.”
A flicker of hope ignites in my chest as I lower her, helping her down until her feet touch the ground. She hums appreciatively, licking her lips before curling the bottom one between her teeth as she trails a teasing finger over the wet spot on my shorts.
“Why is it so hot that you came while fully clothed?”
“So I can come with you?” I divert, my voice filled with so much hope and desperation it makes me sound like a naive juvenile.
She smirks. “No, Songbird.” She guides me back to the chair I occupied earlier, settling herself with a knee on either side of my waist as she straddles me, raking her nails through my hair. Neither of us cares that it makes an even bigger mess of my shorts. "When will you learn that you can't make me do what you want just because you know how to play my pussy as well as you play pool?"
“I am a pool shark,” I murmur against her lips. She giggles, kissing me, taking her time as she tastes herself on me before seeking entrance with her tongue. I like kissing her this way, but she’s still respectful every time, always ensuring I’m comfortable.
We still haven’t discussed my mother—or what Dove thinks she knows. I suspect she’s waiting for me to bring it up, and I will, eventually, be ready to tell her everything.
Like how I’m finally seeing the light at the end of the dark tunnel I’ve been trapped in for years. Just months ago, I wouldn’t have even entertained the idea of confronting my mother, let alone seeking the closure I so desperately need.
But seeing Dove’s strength up close—watching her shape her past into something that saves others—it’s empowering. My girl is inspiring.
When we part, she graces me with a vulpine smile. “Will you wait for me? Naked . In my bed.”
“Why don’t you break into my place instead? Take advantage of me while wearing your mask. Make all my fantasies of your alter ego come true."
I grin as her face falls comically.
“Only you could make me jealous of my serial killer self, Songbird,” she deadpans.
“It’s not cheating, Turtle Dove.” I nuzzle her with my nose, grasping her wrists and holding them behind her back when she tries to get up. “You’re the same person.”
“Yeah, okay, Ross ,” she pitches her voice higher and mocks, "We were on a break!"
“I don’t… know what that means?” I release her as I stupidly try to recall where I’ve heard that before.
She giggles, the sound ringing through the room as she heads toward the bathroom. “Guess we have a new show to watch, Songbird.” She winks over her shoulder before disappearing down the hall. “Another first I get to give you.”
At her possessive tone, warmth spreads through my chest. I release a lovesick sigh, tracking her backside with a dreamy gaze until she vanishes from view. “Sounds good to me, Turtle Dove.”
I watch as the tiny dot representing Dove continues traveling northwest. At least I know she hasn’t been smoking those disgusting little cigars, because she still hasn’t found the tracker I stuck to her Zippo.
While both those facts comfort me, my nerves are fraying as she gets further and further from the city. She can’t have left more than thirty minutes ago, and with each passing second, my resolve to stay put weakens .
Hunter slides another beer in front of me before dropping onto the stool beside mine, snorting. "Can you believe this guy?” He gestures with the neck of his bottle toward where Bunny sits across the bar, deep in conversation with her date. “What, did Dove dress him?”
I huff a laugh, setting my phone screen down and taking a pull from my drink. The guy in question is wearing a salmon-colored button-up, his long, sandy-colored hair tied up in a bun secured with what looks like a pastel pink scrunchie.
He doesn’t seem like Bunny’s type, yet I think this is the happiest I’ve ever seen her. They talk animatedly, completely absorbed in each other, while Hunter continues his futile attempt to incinerate the guy with sheer force of will.
Bunny greeted me earlier, but she didn’t ask about Dove, which I find odd. After seeing me here alone, why wouldn’t she ask where my girlfriend, her best friend, is?
It’s a little weird.
Does she know who Dove really is?
I’ve always wondered how those videos make it to the police station. Dove doesn’t seem like the type to edit footage into the eerie, cinematic style they always appear in. She hates it when marketing asks about layouts or design choices, always huffing about how she can’t figure it out to save her life.
Is Bunny in on it?
“The Shadow Siren struck again. We haven’t released details yet. Want an exclusive?” Hunter asks, tearing his gaze away from Bunny’s table.
“Yeah, that sounds good. Dove sure as hell isn’t letting me write about the Doll anytime soon, so I should probably give that one up for now.”
“How are things with you two?” Hunter asks, and for once, he sounds like he genuinely cares—even though his knee bounces restlessly, his fingers flex around his beer, and his eyes keep flicking sideways, trying to catch glimpses of Bunny in his peripheral vision.
“Things are good.” My foot taps against the stool’s lower bar. Whether it’s Hunter’s anxiety bleeding into my space or my own unease about Dove’s whereabouts, I don’t know. “They’re great, actually. Life-changing, once I got out of my own way.”
He claps me on the back. “I’m happy for you both, truly. You seem a lot better. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy with a girlfriend before.”
I pick up my phone, giving him an opening to let his gaze drift where he wants. “Why don’t you man up and make a move?”
“You think I haven’t tried?” he asks bitterly .
“I hate to say it, Hunt. But maybe you should let her go then. Or force her hand. She doesn’t like seeing you with other women. She went ballistic about you kissing Dove—which I still haven’t forgiven you for—so give her a taste of her own medicine. She clearly cares. Maybe if you act like you don’t , she’ll finally face her feelings.”
He scoffs. “I can’t . She’s got me so wrapped around her finger I’d sit and watch while she let him fuck her if she asked me to.”
My head whips toward him, an incredulous look on my face as I try not to choke on my drink. “I’m sorry… what ?”
He snorts. “I’d kill him afterward, of course. But that goddamn woman has me under her spell, and I’m at my fucking wit’s end. I know she has feelings for me. I just can’t push her. She puts up this strong front, but that’s all it is—a facade of indifference because her husband hurt her so badly I don’t know if she’ll ever trust another man like that again.”
I don’t know the full extent of Bunny’s story. Dove keeps telling me I can ask, but it’s not hers to share. I think she encourages Bunny and me to spend time together because she doesn’t want her friend to feel left out now that she’s in a relationship.
But honestly? I just want Bunny and Hunter to get their shit together so we can all be happy .
Hunter exhales sharply. “A man’s pride can only take so much.”
“Ever wonder why she keeps dating?”
“What do you mean?”
“Have you ever just offered her a one-night stand? A chance to fuck yourselves out of each other’s systems?” I think back to that night—Dove, sitting a few stools away, making the same proposition.
The memory of how she felt beneath my fingertips. The warmth of her skin and the heated look in her eyes. The moment I realized she felt the same way I did.
The moment everything changed.
Hunter’s gaze shifts, now studying Bunny with something new simmering in his amber depths. “I want more from her than that. I’d rather have nothing than a taste of happiness just to have her rip it away.”
“Maybe she needs a taste first.” I shrug. “Then she’ll be hooked. And you can go on to have annoying little babies that look exactly like you, just like you’ve always dreamed.”
Hunter has always wanted a big family. As an only child, he never had siblings and only had a few friends besides me. He always used to say he wanted enough kids to make a baseball team. I don’t know Bunny well, only hearing one-sided bits and pieces of their history from Hunter, but I think his need to settle down scares the shit out of her.
“Tone down the long-term intensity, Hunt. I know you love her, I still have no idea how, or why, but I know you do. But maybe what Bunny needs is a good fucking, and that’s it. I hate to be crude about it, but I think Dove would agree if she were here.”
Hunter mulls over the information as he continues watching the object of his obsession with renewed curiosity. “Where is Dove tonight?” he murmurs, uninterested.
I check my phone discreetly. Her dot is still moving. In one swift moment, my resolve snaps.
“Working late. I’m gonna meet up with her.”
I follow his unwavering gaze to see Bunny heading to the bathroom. Hunter is off his stool and walking away without so much as a goodbye, giving me the perfect opportunity to slip away unnoticed.
Go get her, man. I’m going after my girl, too.