Chapter 23 Fink
Fink
With one hand focused on her cunt and the other stroking his erection, Fink reveled in the sound of Sydney’s orgasm. Her voice shook with her release. Words weren’t coming from her. It was more like garbled erotic gibberish that made his balls ache.
What did it say about the two of them that discussing how they planned to kill someone got them off? Did it matter? Especially since they’d discovered each other. Every squirrel found its nut. Sydney was his.
They were two fucked-up people who were meant for each other.
Not everyone got this, so he’d better enjoy their time together while it lasted.
Without further delay, he dropped his sweatpants down his thighs and fisted his cock so that pre-cum dripped from the swollen head.
Gripping her bare hips, he dragged her to the edge of the couch.
He positioned the mushroomed tip of his dick at the glistening opening of her pussy. He’d seen nothing more beautiful in his life.
Reaching between her thighs, she spread her lips for him. “Do it.”
“Protection?” he asked as an afterthought.
While he’d been fantasizing about this moment for days, he hadn’t planned for it. Perhaps out of denial or maybe refusal. Sleeping with Sydney was a bad idea, after all, but he couldn’t help himself. Either way, he didn’t have condoms.
Did she?
“IUD,” she said as her index finger swirled around her clit.
Fucking hot.
“I’m negative,” he said, fully aware she was as well. It was in the paperwork AJ had emailed him.
She nodded. “Me too.”
That was all he needed. Closing his eyes, he drove himself to the hilt into the fiery heat of her viselike pussy. Digging his fingers into her flesh, he reveled in the sensation of her walls pulsing around him. She was as divine in this moment as she had been in Grant’s office.
With the rage of a man who had denied himself for ages and not days, he fucked her. He rutted her with a feral desperation. Were he a better man, perhaps he would’ve laid her down in her bed and gently made love to her, cherishing every inch of her flesh.
That wasn’t who he was—who they were.
If he knew Sydney as well as he thought, something like that would bore her to tears. Which was the exact opposite of his plan.
They were monstrous beasts from hell on a mission to rid the world of the souls of the wicked. Or some poetic shit.
They weren’t gentle people. There was no reason to pretend otherwise. So he fucked her raw and reveled in their past and future debauchery.
Sydney
The space on the couch was tight, but somehow, the two of them managed to fit and snuggle. Naked from the waist down, sticky with their release, staining the fabric of her cushions, Sydney cuddled Fink. Basking in post-orgasmic bliss, she pressed soft kisses along his jaw.
“Tomorrow,” he whispered.
“Hmm?” she hummed.
“We’ll start watching him.”
Resting her cheek against his chest, she grinned. The rhythmic thump-bump of his heart soothed her as the excitement of what the coming days would bring surged through her. She couldn’t lose her head on her first official outing. The only way to survive this was literally to stay calm.
But…
Was it a date?
Most people had dinner or saw a movie while getting acquainted with each other at the start of a relationship, but not Fink and Sydney. They were different.
Biting back her giggles, she decided stalking their future victim would be their first date. Mitchell didn’t count. It wasn’t planned. That was their meet-cute. Murdering Joey, or Burke, as Fink referred to him, would be their first official planned date.
The urge to squeal in delight overwhelmed her, but she somehow kept it to herself. Instead, she chose to focus on the important details.
“For how long?” she asked.
Translation: How many dates would it take to kill Burke?
He squeezed her against him. “Until we see our opening.”
So vague. How very Fink of him.
“How are we going to do it?” she asked, tracing hearts on his chest.
She liked the sound of “we” coming off her tongue.
It was natural. They were doing this together.
Like they had Mitchell, only this time, this murder was on purpose.
She probably should be concerned about the fact that she was excited to murder someone, but they were past that.
They were two twisted souls who had found each other.
Instead of worrying about things they couldn’t change, she focused on the positives.
As far as she was concerned, she was officially seeing someone in a romantic capacity.
They shared an interest. Plenty of couples didn’t have that. It was a building block in a successful relationship.
“What were you thinking?” he asked as his fingertips trailed up and down her arm.
That was a good question. Not about dating. She wouldn’t admit that. He sought plans on how to commit their murder-for-hire, and she’d had a bazillion ideas for that. Some were more realistic than others.
“It depends,” she said as a bevy of options ran through her mind. “Why do people want him dead?”
“Don’t know. Just have to make an example of him.” Fink sighed contentedly.
Whoever had hired them requested theatrics. They wanted a show. Something grand—creative. Her smile spread wide on her lips. The possibilities were endless.
“Isn’t he a longshoreman?”
He nodded.
“They have cranes and whatnot there, right?”
“They do.”
Devious ideas danced in her head. “Can we fillet him like a fish and hang him from one of the cranes?”
“Interesting.”
“We’d have to subdue him,” she said as the idea took shape in her mind. “For maximum impact.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, he should be alive when we’re cutting out his insides.” Though he would be quite squirmy. Most people didn’t enjoy getting sliced open. She assumed it was an unpleasant experience.
Fink shook as he chuckled beneath her. “Naturally. What’s the point of gutting someone if they aren’t able to feel it?”
“Exactly,” she affirmed with a nod. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
“More than you know,” he murmured.