Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
Julian
One Month later
I sat beside Wynn on the couch as we watched the news.
They were reporting new evidence in the murder of Governor Rambles.
Shockingly, to them, it appeared that her cousin Shawn Ridgeway, who was missing—another shock—was the sole suspect in her death.
New evidence, blah blah, blah. I tuned them out.
This was exactly how it was supposed to go.
After I’d killed Ridgeway as slowly as possible, I’d ended him by strangling him. It was fitting, seeing as he’d tried to do that to Wynn, and at the end of the day it was my modus operandi.
Wynn grabbed the remote and shut the television off. “I’m hungry.”
“Dinner is soon.”
He faced me and smiled. “I was thinking.”
“Oh?”
“My parents and friends will be here in two weeks, spend a month here meeting you and everything before we marry in December. Wouldn’t it be nice if you and I got some time away together?”
“We’re doing the tour in a few months.”
“Hmm…that’s work.”
“What does this have to do with you being hungry?”
He laughed. “Let’s go out to eat. Just you and me and plan a vacation.”
“We have our honeymoon, that’s a vacation.”
He rolled his eyes. “I want one weekend just you and me. I don’t even care if we’re in a bedroom in bed for it.”
My cock twitched, loving that idea. “Well, now you’re talking.”
He chuckled and pulled me in for a kiss. It was sweet at first, but as soon as his tongue touched mine, I had him pressed against the couch.
“Julian.” He laughed. “Not here.”
“My family won’t be back for, like, thirty minutes. And August is in Thrindell; we’re fine.” I kissed him and shamelessly groped any part of him I could get my hands on.
“Julian.” His complaint was halfhearted and as his cock grew in my hand, I knew he’d soon fold.
“I hid lube in the drawer here.”
“What?”
I opened the tiny drawer in the table and showed him the bottle. “I have them stashed everywhere.”
“What if Grace finds them?”
I shrugged. “It’s a very Felipe thing to do, so she’d probably think he did it.”
He was laughing so hard, removing his pants was difficult. I was nothing if not determined, and soon he was naked from the hips down.
I pulled my pants off, my cock springing into action. Honestly it was always ready when it came to Wynn. I poured lube on my fingers and started working him open.
“Oh, fuck.”
I loved it every time Wynn fell apart like this, pliant under my touch, ravenous for my dick.
“I need you.”
“Take me, then.”
After working him open for a few more minutes, I couldn’t wait anymore.
I lubed up my cock and slowly entered him.
His eyes were on me, always on me. As soon as he was seated, I leaned in and kissed him.
I fucked into him slowly, loving how he keened.
The feel of his fingers digging into my ass had me speeding up, my tongue working in tandem with my cock.
“I’m gonna come.”
“Come with me, Wynn. Let me see you, feel you.”
His back arched and he came, painting his shirt and mine. Just seeing him fall apart was enough to pull my orgasm from me.
We lay there for a minute, trying to catch our breaths when we heard voices.
“Shit!” Wynn was pushing me off, and I laughed. Damn, I’d never laughed until he came into my life. “Get up. Oh my God, your family cannot see me like this.”
He fell twice, banged his knee, and cursed up a storm. I took pity on him and guided him to a small door not known to many.
“A secret passage.” I opened it, and he gasped.
“No way!”
“Way. Come on.”
He followed me and I took him to another door that led to a hallway, the same one our bedroom was in. He rushed inside and to the bathroom. I left him to it and stripped off my clothes. I’d shower quickly before dinner. I heard the shower turn on, so I took it as an invitation.
We washed and laughed and once we were drying off, I smiled at Wynn. “How about next weekend? I can make sure it’s clear and we can spend it on the yacht, just the two of us.”
“Seriously?”
“I promise.”
He squealed and rushed me. “Thank you, yes. Anywhere with just you would be great, actually.”
“Even a cardboard box or a latrine?”
“Yup.”
I hummed. “I’ll remember that for the honeymoon.”
He playfully smacked me, and we separated to get dressed for dinner with my family.
It was an interesting thing. I still got urges to kill—I didn’t believe that would ever go away.
I didn’t care either way; at least, I never used to in the past. What I did care about was how Wynn looked at me. What he thought of me.
He’d promised not too long ago he’d help me.
He understood that I only killed bad people, or, as he’d said, questionable people.
I was sure if the compulsion to kill became too much and I said something to him, he’d do everything he could to help me.
He told me that Ridgeway had found witnesses to a man taking people, and that some had even sworn they’d heard my voice.
I’d make sure to destroy that getup and either get a voice modulator or keep my mouth shut.
It was just one way Wynn was already helping me.
I loved Wynn…well, what I understood about it. For me it was a deep obsession, one that in my heart I knew would never go away, and that was fine by me. Everything was better with Wynn, quieter.
A few days ago I’d been feeling that itch beneath my skin, sure I was going to have to do something, but then I’d seen Wynn smile in the garden.
He’d called me to join him, and it had diminished.
He was in love with the peonies, and had needed to show me.
I’d walked right over to him, bypassed the flowers, and held on to him like a lifeline.
Part of him had to have known what was going on in my head, because he’d whispered that he was here and whatever I needed he would help.
That was the first time the urge had ever dissipated without me actually taking a life.
Was Wynn some sort of cure? I wasn’t sure, but I’d spend forever finding out.