Chapter 15 #3
With that, he lifted me like I weighed nothing and set me on the bench behind me. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, pulling him closer. With a wicked smirk, he hooked his fingers into my panties, dragged them down my legs, and ripped them free when they caught on my ankle.
Then he dropped to his knees.
His hands gripped my thighs, spreading me wide, and a broken whimper escaped me as he leaned in and dragged his tongue slowly up my center.
“Rhys…” I choked out.
He didn’t answer. Instead he devoured me like a man possessed, tongue sliding deep before flicking fast and hard over my clit.
He ate me with filthy, wet sounds, sucking and licking until my legs shook violently on either side of his head, and when he growled against my pussy, the vibration undid me.
I came hard, crying out as pleasure slammed through me. He kept licking me through it, drawing out every last shudder.
Only then did he rise. He freed his cock from his pants, thick and heavy, and fisted it once. My eyes widened. He was big. How it would ever fit inside was beyond me, but that only made me want it more.
He stepped between my spread thighs, lining himself up. One hand tangled in my hair, forcing me to meet his intense gaze.
“Think you can take it?” he asked, voice low and rough.
A wanton ‘yes’ was already in my mouth, but somewhere in the hazy comedown of my climax, my earlier thoughts were managing to reassemble themselves. All the suspicions about Rhys and his possible involvement in the camp murders flooded back, instantly followed by a burning wave of shame.
Because the really damning thing was that the suspicion wasn’t entirely killing the mood for me. In fact, it was turning me on even more; something crawling up hot and shameful from that dark, twisted part of me.
You can feel bad about this later, I told myself. And you will. You absolutely will.
But later was later. Right now, I was about to get fucked by a man I semi-suspected of being a summer camp slasher, and the thought of it sent a dark thrill through me instead of fear.
“Yes,” I finally whispered. “Fuck me. Please.”
Rhys drove into me in one powerful thrust, and I gasped sharply at the stretch, nails digging into his shoulders. He was so thick it bordered on pain, but the burn quickly melted into blinding pleasure as he worked himself deeper.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned.
He bottomed out with a low curse, then started fucking me with deep, punishing strokes. “That’s it, baby,” he growled. “Take it.”
The bench creaked beneath us as I met every thrust, grinding against him, chasing the overwhelming pleasure. Even with the lingering suspicions crawling at the back of my mind—that blood on his neck, those stained shoes—the prospect of danger only made me wetter. Hotter. Hungrier.
Rhys fucked me harder, like he could feel it too.
“That’s my girl,” he growled against my mouth. “Take it just like that.”
My second orgasm hit without warning, ripping through me so violently I cried out, clenching around his cock. Rhys thrust deep one final time and came with a rough groan, spilling inside me as he held me against him.
For a long moment, the only sound was our ragged breathing, and he stayed buried deep, pressing slow, surprisingly soft kisses along my neck while I trembled in his arms.
He finally exhaled, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly as he pulled back just enough to look at me properly. “I’m fucking starving now,” he said. “How about you?”
I let out a breath that almost turned into a laugh, the normalcy of his question feeling a little strange after everything that had just happened between us. “I’m pretty hungry too,” I said, nodding slowly.
“Wanna head to the dining hall for an early lunch?”
I nodded again, still a little dazed. “Sounds good.”
We dressed in silence, the shed air cooling fast around us.
As I pulled my top down and smoothed it into place, my gaze dropped absently to the floor and snagged on Rhys's bloodstained sneakers again.
Then a memory hit me so suddenly it felt physical, like a stone dropping straight through my chest.
Earlier, I’d been so focused on trying to reconstruct the paintball game that I hadn’t thought about anything from the few minutes before it. Not the walk down to the field. Not the conversation with Rhys. But now it was back, sharp and complete.
‘Heading to paintball?’ he’d asked as he fell into step beside me.
‘Yup,’ I’d replied, eyes drifting over to his khaki cargo pants and scuffed black lace-up boots. ‘I’m guessing you are too, based on those combat boots you’ve got on.’
My stomach dropped so hard it almost hurt.
Combat boots. That was what Rhys had worn to the game that day.
I could see them clearly in my head now, right down to the creases in the leather.
So that meant he’d lied right to my face earlier to explain away the blood on his sneakers.
And the only reason he’d lie was if there wasn’t an innocent explanation for it. Which meant—
The thought didn’t fully form. It didn’t need to. A cold, crawling dread spread through me instead, flooding every inch of my body.
Last night, I’d told myself I was being paranoid. That I was letting fear twist everything into something worse than it was.
But I wasn’t. Rhys had actually… and then I’d actually…
My throat tightened so hard it burned. I couldn’t finish those thoughts either. Couldn’t look at them directly. I was too scared. Too horrified. Too ashamed of myself.
“Are you okay?”
Rhys’s voice cut through my horror-struck reverie. I flinched slightly and looked up at him, my heart slamming so hard it honestly felt like it might echo off the shed walls.
His eyes had narrowed just a fraction, studying my face. “You look like you just saw a ghost,” he added.
For a second, I was convinced he could hear it all. The panicked heartbeat. The realization in my mind. The way everything inside me had just come apart. I was sure that he’d see it written all over my face. That he’d know I knew.
And then he’d…
Stop.
I forced in a breath, slow and shaky, dragging a smile onto my lips that didn’t feel like it belonged to me. “I’m just really tired. I haven’t been sleeping much, for obvious reasons.”
His expression eased, and he nodded. “I don’t think anyone’s sleeping well right now,” he said. “We can just skip lunch if you want, and I’ll walk you back to your cabin so you can take a nap.”
“That’s probably a good idea. Thanks.” I swallowed hard, heart still thumping so hard my whole chest ached. “And thanks for the lesson.”
“Yeah.” His mouth tipped at one corner, amusement flickering in his eyes. “The lesson.”
The way he said it made heat flicker low in my stomach, completely at odds with the ice still coiling through the rest of me.
He turned and unlocked the shed door, stepping back and gesturing outward. “After you.”
I hesitated for a second before moving. I was hyper-aware of him behind me, and the fact that he could plant an ax in my back if he wanted to. Or chop off my head. But I forced myself to keep going, each step measured and controlled, even as my pulse roared in my ears.
Nothing happened. No sudden movement. No hand grabbing me. No blade sinking into me. Just the sound of the door creaking behind me as I stepped out into the open air.
Not so far away, I could see a few guys tossing an old football back and forth across the grass. Relief hit me hard enough to make me dizzy. There was no way Rhys could do anything to me now. Not in full view of all those other people.
When we finally reached my cabin door, he patted my shoulder, and I barely managed to stop myself from flinching again. “Have a good sleep, if you can manage it,” he said, tipping his head slightly. “Hopefully the cops are here by the time you wake up.”
“Yeah. Hopefully,” I replied. My voice sounded way too thin.
With that, I walked up the steps, rapped on the door, and waited.
Tamsin let me in a few seconds later and closed the door behind me as I took two trembling steps inside.
The click of the lock finally echoed through the room.
Only then did I move again, taking a few unsteady steps forward before grabbing the nearest bunk post.
My whole body was shaking.
“Holy shit. Are you okay?” Jasmine asked, jumping to her feet.
Wren and Tamsin were already moving too, their faces tightening with concern.
“I…”
Nothing else came out.
My chest hitched, breath coming too fast now, too shallow, my thoughts tangling over themselves so badly that I couldn’t grab onto a single one long enough to speak it.
“Did something happen?” Tamsin asked, eyes flashing with concern.
“N-no,” I said, shaking my head. I took a deep breath, and then I finally managed to spit out a coherent sentence. “I think Rhys might be the killer.”
Jasmine’s eyes bulged. “What?”
“Holy fuck,” Tamsin muttered, blinking slowly.
“I just…” My voice cracked, and tears suddenly stung my eyes, blurring everything. “Oh my god, I’m so stupid!”
Wren stepped closer, her voice steady. “Hey. Sit down. Just breathe for a second. Then tell us.”
I let her guide me onto the bed, my legs giving way too easily. Then I started talking.
Everything spilled out in pieces. The blood. The timeline. The way things hadn’t added up. The way I’d talked myself out of it.
“I thought I was just being paranoid. Thought I was overreacting,” I finished, shaking my head. “But then… the shoe thing. He lied. I know it.”
The other three girls were completely silent for a beat. Then Jasmine threw her hands up. “Why the hell didn’t you tell us any of this last night?” she demanded.
“It’s like I said. So much of it was circumstantial.
And last night, I really thought I was wrong.
I figured he must’ve touched his neck after getting Sloane’s blood on his hand,” I said, my voice unsteady despite my effort to control it.
“Also, I was alone with him for hours. He had every opportunity to do something to me, and he didn’t. Not last night. Not this morning.”