25. The Mystery of Dick
THE MYSTERY OF DICK
Flynn
Turns out having a woman occupy your every thought is somewhat distracting. I flip the page in Hope’s diary but quickly lose focus when Hazel stirs from her sleep, her fingers curling around my T-shirt as she nuzzles against me. It’s really fucking adorable.
Then her eyes flick open and she stiffens.
“Flynn,” she says my name slowly. “Why am I lying on your chest?”
“Hey, you’re the one who chose me over your pillow.”
She sits up and twists to face me. “In my sleep! And I know it was in my sleep because, unless I’ve had a sudden lapse in memory, you were not here when I went to bed.”
I stare back at her. “And the problem is?”
“Argh!” she cries out and slumps back onto the bed. Frustration scrunches her face as she tugs the sheets up to her chin and rolls onto her side, turning her back to me. “I’m going back to sleep,” she huffs.
I lift Hope’s diary again, looking at the page as I talk. “You sure there’s not anything you want to tell me?”
“Very sure.”
I hum and put the diary down so I can lean over my lying Little Lilac. “Nothing about how your ex threatened and put his hands on you tonight?”
Hazel’s eyes open again. “How do you even know that?”
“Wright messaged me, she thought you might be a little shaken.”
“You gave Wright your number?”
I put my hands on her hips and flip her onto her back so she’s looking up at me. “The question is, why didn’t you tell me?”
Hazel’s bangs flutter over her eyes as she sighs. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It was a big enough deal that he was arrested.”
“That was because he punched a cop.”
I shake my head. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“This guy tried to offer you up to be raped and then tonight he threatened to fuck you. You don’t need to brush it off like it’s nothing. It’s not nothing.”
Hazel’s lips tremble and her gaze drops to my chest. “Wright really told you everything, huh?” Her throat bobs and the desire to rake my teeth down the smooth skin there heats inside of me.
She looks back up, shadows in her eyes. “He pulled me against him and I could—” she breaks off then tries again. “I could feel his erection pressing into me.”
I have to tense every muscle in my body to stop from reacting. Anger threatens to blind me but as much as I want to go murder Dickweed, as Wright calls him, he’s in lock up and right now Hazel needs me, even if she doesn’t want to admit it. “How can I help?”
Hazel grimaces. “I should have never let him touch me. He was going to—” Her lips clamp down, her eyes widening as she finally processes the horror of what almost happened to her at college.
“Tell me what you need.”
She shakes her head and blinks back tears. “Honestly, I’m fine.”
I squeeze her hip. “Hazel.”
She hesitates, dragging her bottom lip between her teeth. “I don’t want to feel him anymore,” she whispers, her hands grazing my chest. “I want to feel you.”
I drag the sheets off her body and splay my hand over her stomach. “Here?”
She sucks in a breath and nods.
I slide my hand over her hip, my fingertips teasing her thigh. “What about here?”
She nods again, and my cock hardens as she swallows, my gaze dropping to the delicate column of her throat.
I trail my fingers over the crease of her thigh and cup my palm around her burning heat. “And here?”
Hazel whimpers, her breath rushing out as she arches into my touch. “Everywhere,” she begs. “I want you everywhere.”
I groan, her desire only building mine. I ease her T-shirt up and dip my head, dusting kisses over her smooth stomach and sucking on her nipples.
“Flynn,” she breathes, and the shadows still playing in her eyes make me burn with rage. I lift up and snag a fine line pen out of my backpack.
Hazel lifts her head off the pillow, looking down at me as I bite off the pen lid. “What are you doing?”
“Shh,” I say, pressing her back down with a hand between her breasts.
She lies quietly beneath me as I draw the pen across her stomach, taking my time to outline the letters before filling them in.
I think she likes the feeling because her breaths get choppier as I work and I can see the wetness glistening on her pussy.
When I’m finished I lift up, satisfaction humming through me as I admire the words inked on her lower abdomen. Property of Flynn Fletcher.
Hazel sucks in a gasp as she reads what I’ve written on her skin.
I let her take in the words before I press her back down into the bed.
She squirms beneath me, so I hook my arms around her thighs and spread her wide, keeping her open for me.
“Flynn,” she whispers.
I look up, capturing her hazy gaze. “He doesn’t get to touch you anymore. You are mine. Every inch of you belongs to me. Your body, this cunt, is mine. Do you understand?”
Her eyes shimmer. “Yes.”
“Good.” I lower my head, dragging my tongue through her folds. The taste of her goes straight to my dick and I’m torn between my need to drive into her and my desire to take my sweet time exploring her body.
She jolts as I nuzzle my nose against her clit, but I hold her still, pinning her hips to the bed as I spear my tongue inside of her. I keep going until she’s shuddering beneath me then I free myself from my jeans and sink into her.
That’s all it takes for her to come apart and her cunt pulses around my length, milking my cock.
I take hold of the T-shirt that’s still lying around her neck and twist it around until it’s flush against her throat. I tug on the end of the cotton, lifting her up as I fuck her.
“Where else did he touch you?” I ask.
She reaches for her tits and I knock her hand away, replacing it with mine. I knead the soft flesh. “Here?”
She nods, her chest heaving.
I slide my fingers to her nipple and pinch the hardened nub. “What about here?”
“Yes.”
I pull and twist her nipple until Hazel’s squirming, her cunt clenching around me. I dip my head and take her other peak between my teeth, biting hard enough to leave it throbbing even after I let go.
“Still feel him?” I ask, possessiveness driving each thrust as I chase away his touch.
Hazel shakes her head, her eyes foggy with desire.
“And here?” My thumb finds her clit, and I roll it in circles. “Who’s touching you right now, Lilac?”
“You are,” she pants.
“Who owns you?”
“You do.”
“That’s right,” I say. “I do. Only me.” I pinch down hard on her clit, forcing her to another climax as I chase my own.
Her neck tilts back, her throat straining against the T-shirt until I let go and she collapses against the pillows. The taste of her lingers on my tongue and I crash my lips against hers as I pulse inside of her.
“Mine,” I growl against her mouth and nip at her lip. “Only mine.”
“Yours,” she whispers, her fingers raking through my hair.
I roll onto my side and we lie there together for a while, me tracing my hands over her body until the shadows leave her eyes. I wait till I’m sure she’s okay before disappearing into the bathroom and running a washcloth under warm water.
After I’ve cleaned us both up, making sure to leave the ink on Hazel’s skin, she peers over at the bedside table. “What were you reading?”
I pick up the book and show her. “Hope’s diary from college.”
Hazel runs her fingers over the illustrated flowers decorating the cover. “Did she draw these?”
“Yeah.”
“They’re beautiful.”
“She designed my tattoo,” I say, holding out my hand for Hazel to see the illustrated skull intertwined with roses and lilies.
Hazel runs her thumb over the ink.
“I got it after she died,” I tell her. “Took it from one of her sketch books.”
Hazel looks back at the diary. “Is there anything in there that can help with Claren?”
“Nothing so far.”
She puts her elbow on the pillow and rests her head on her hand. Quiet concentration marks her brow as she studies my bare chest.
“What’s going on in that brain of yours?”
“Just thinking. Who brought Hope in as a sacrifice for the Kings?”
“I’m not sure, why?”
“Just something Tommy said at the bar. He said even if I’d shown up back then, he wouldn’t have got to fuck me. I don’t know, he just made it sound like the person who brings the sacrifice doesn’t get to, um… take part.”
I stare at the diary, my mind racing. I’d been so focused on the men in the video, it never occurred to me there could be another person involved. The very person who handed Hope over to those men for his own fucked up gain.
“Dickweed was your boyfriend,” I say.
“Yeah. Hope, was she dating anyone?”
I open the diary, flipping to the page where she first meets the guy she was seeing. “She never refers to him by name. I’ve been calling him Dick. They met in art class at college.”
Something flickers in Hazel’s eyes. She bolts upright.
“What is it?”
“Danny, the senator’s aide, he told me he was an art major at Washington State.”
Spiders crawl up my spine, vicious venom in my veins. “And he just happens to invite you to the ball?”
Hazel goes pale. “Maybe it’s a coincidence.”
“He’s working for the senator, Hazel. That’s one hell of a coincidence.”
She looks up at me, her body taut with fear. “Flynn, he knows I’m not a reporter. He knows where I live.”