Chapter 38
Grim
I’m shoving dirty towels into the washing machine when I hear the laundry room door close behind me.
I turn to see Wren standing there, her hand still on the doorknob. Her eyes lock with mine, and there’s something in her expression that makes my mouth go dry.
She reaches up and starts unbuttoning her dress. One button at a time. Slow and deliberate.
My hands pause on the towel I’m holding. I freeze. All I can do is watch as her fingers work their way down.
The dress falls open, revealing the soft swell of her breasts in her bra. The curve of her waist. The swell of her hips.
I swallow hard as she lets the dress drop to the floor.
“It’s dirty,” she tells me, her voice soft.
I pull in a breath. My cock is already responding, hardening in my jeans.
She reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra. The straps slide down her shoulders. She lets it fall.
I make a strangled noise.
Fuck me.
Her tits are perfect. I doubt I will ever tire of looking at them…touching them.
Then she hooks her thumbs into her panties and shimmies out of them. The movement makes her breasts jiggle, and I have to bite back a groan.
She steps out of the panties and walks toward me, completely naked. She stops right in front of me and holds out the garments.
“These are dirty, too,” she says. “I think they need the spin cycle. I might need the spin cycle, too.”
“Are you dirty, Wren?” I ask, my voice a rough rasp.
“Very.”
“Let me help you then.” I take them from her. I’m pretty sure that my mouth is hanging open. I might even be drooling. The panties are still warm from her body. I bring them to my nose and inhale deeply, groaning at the scent of her.
She giggles and shakes her head.
Scent is a shifter thing that humans don’t always understand. At least, not like we do. Wren seems to get it. She gets me.
I’m gaping because she’s so damned beautiful. I want to taste every inch of her skin.
I drop the garments on the floor next to her dress. Then I close the door of the washing machine, set the dial to the spin cycle, and hit start.
The machine rumbles to life beneath my hands.
I tear off my pants. My balls are tight and aching.
“So you want a spin on my cock?” I smile. I’m sure I look seriously feral, but she loves it.
“Yes, please.” She bobs her brows.
I pull off my shirt and jump up onto the washing machine, sitting on top of it as it starts to shake and vibrate beneath me.
Wren moves between my legs. I help her up so she’s straddling me, facing away. Her back is pressed against my chest. My arms come around her, my hands immediately going to her tits.
They’re so fucking soft and perfect. I squeeze and massage, feeling her nipples harden against my palms.
The washing machine picks up speed. The vibrations intensify. They travel through the machine, through me, into Wren.
She gasps, her head falling back against my shoulder.
I play with her tits, rolling her nipples between my fingers. The vibrations from the machine make everything feel more intense. Her breasts jerk and shudder in my hands with each rotation of the spin cycle.
“Spread your legs,” I tell her.
She does, opening herself up. I slide one hand down her stomach, over the soft swell of her belly, down to her pussy.
She’s already wet.
I groan against her neck, kissing and biting at the sensitive skin there. My fingers find her clit and start working it in slow circles.
The washing machine is going nuts beneath us now. It’s vibrating so hard my teeth are rattling. The vibrations travel up through my body, through my balls, making my cock leak pre-cum onto my stomach.
It feels fucking amazing, and I’m not even inside her yet.
Wren’s breathing gets faster. Harder. Her hips start to rock against my hand.
I slide two fingers inside her, feeling how hot and tight and wet she is. I work them in and out while my thumb stays on her clit, rubbing.
The machine shudders beneath us. Wren shudders with it. I can feel her getting wetter, feel her pussy starting to clench around my fingers.
I kiss her neck, her jaw, finding her mouth. She turns her head, and our lips meet. The kiss is messy and desperate.
My cock is pressed between us, trapped between her ass and my stomach. Every vibration from the machine travels through my balls and up my shaft.
I lift her up slightly, just enough for her to grab my cock. Her fingers wrap around my shaft, and I hiss at the contact. She positions me at her entrance.
Then I lower her down onto me.
I choke out a groan as I sink into her.
The vibrations from the washing machine travel through both of us now. Through my balls, up my cock, into her pussy.
“Oh wow,” Wren breathes.
I hold her hips, lifting and lowering her onto my cock. The washing machine does most of the work, shuddering and vibrating beneath us. All I have to do is guide her movements.
Every thrust sends vibrations through my entire body. My balls are vibrating. My cock is vibrating. Even my teeth are vibrating.
It’s the most intense thing I’ve ever felt.
Wren’s hands grip my thighs for support. Her head is thrown back against my shoulder, her mouth open, soft moans escaping with each thrust.
I thrust up into her from below, using the leverage to go deeper. The angle is perfect. I can feel every inch of her wrapped around me.
The machine hits a particularly aggressive part of the spin cycle. It shakes so hard we both gasp.
“Fuuuuuuuuck,” I groan against her neck.
I pick up the pace, lifting and lowering her faster. Harder. The vibrations intensify everything. Every sensation is amplified.
My balls start to pull tight when the phone rings.
No.
Fuck no.
We freeze.
The phone keeps ringing. Shrill and insistent over the sound of the washing machine.
There’s only one person who would be calling us on the burner phone.
Drake.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
I help Wren off me, my cock protesting at the loss of her heat. She climbs down from the washing machine on shaky legs.
I get down and grab the phone from my pants pocket on the floor. My cock is still hard. I’m desperate to be back inside Wren despite the worry that courses through me. Drake wouldn’t call unless it was important.
“Drake,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Is everything okay?”
“Grim,” Drake says, sounding urgent. “Why are you out of breath?” he asks, suspicion creeping into his voice.
“Had to run for the phone,” I lie. “I was in the other room.”
“What’s that noise?”
I glance at the washing machine. It’s still going, shaking and rumbling like crazy.
“It’s the washing machine,” I tell him. “I’m in the laundry room.”
There’s a pause. “Right. Of course.”
“Give me a minute,” I say.
I gesture to Wren. We need to get dressed. Now.
She scrambles for her clothes while I yank on my pants, my cock still hard and pressing uncomfortably against the zipper.
We stumble out into the hallway. The washing machine continues its manic cycle behind us.
“Okay,” I say into the phone. “What’s going on?”
“I heard from an inside source,” Drake says. His voice is grave. “Sally’s doing really well.”
“That’s great,” I say automatically.
“It is,” Drake agrees. “But it also really isn’t.”
My stomach drops.
“I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have much time,” Drake explains. “They’re keeping her in an induced coma. They’re saying it’s to help speed up her recovery, which is normally typical of a head injury…which this isn’t. The family is starting to ask questions. They want to see her. They want answers.”
I close my eyes. I groan.
“I think they’re going to pull the plug on her soon.”
“When?” I ask.
“No idea. Could be today…tomorrow. You should have a few days, but it’s hard to say for sure.” He sighs.
“Dammit,” I mutter.
Wren is staring at me. I can see the fear in her eyes. She can’t hear what Drake is saying but she knows the gist of it.
“You’re out of time, Grim,” Drake says. “I know security around the vaccination facility was crazy, but it’s died down a bit. It’s still crawling with guards, but not as many as before.”
“That’s good news.” I scrub a hand over my face.
“They’ve put a tarp over the roof, so access should be fairly easy,” Drake tells me.
“They’ve set up a tent in the parking area so shifters can still get their vaccinations.
The actual building is mostly empty during the day.
Just guards patrolling. They’re focusing mainly on the storage facility for the vaccinations. ”
“How many are there?”
“I don’t have exact numbers for you,” Drake says. “It would be suspicious if I went there, since I have no reason to.”
“Have you heard anything about Wren’s phone?” I ask, although I already know the answer.
“Not a word,” Drake admits. “They haven’t started cleaning up or begun repairs on the building yet. They’ve mainly been focused on finding you and on keeping the building secure. I’m pretty sure they will start soon, in which case they might end up finding the phone. Another reason to go in now.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Our time is up, then.”
“I’m afraid so. At least, if you want to save Sally by getting the word out, now is the time,” Drake says. “I’d recommend going tonight. There are fewer guards. More shadows to hide in.”
“It’s going to be difficult,” I say.
“There’s a chance you’ll be caught,” Drake agrees. “I won’t lie to you about that. Security might be lighter, but it’s still there. And if they catch you breaking into the facility…” He doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t have to.
“I have to do it,” I tell him. “There’s no other choice.”
“Grim—”
“If I’m killed,” I interrupt, “it’ll be up to you to eventually find the phone and expose the truth. Can you do that?”
There’s a long pause. “Yes,” Drake says finally. “I’ll make sure the truth comes out. One way or another.”
Wren makes a small sound. When I look at her, her face has gone pale.
“Be careful. Please. We need you alive, Grim. I don’t want to have to tell your mother that you didn’t make it,” he says, reminding me of the gravity of the situation.
“I’ll do my best,” I tell him.
“That’s all I can ask,” Drake says. “Call me after. Let me know you’re okay.”
“I will.”
I end the call.
Wren and I stare at each other in the hallway. The washing machine is still rumbling in the background, but it sounds distant now.
Wren’s lip wobbles. Her eyes fill with tears.
“Grim,” she whispers. Her voice breaks. “You can’t go. It’s too dangerous.”
I don’t say anything. What can I say? She’s right. There’s a very real chance I won’t make it out of there alive.
But I have to try.
For Sally and for the truth. For all the shifters on this island who deserve to know what’s being done to them. This will be the catalyst.
Wren deserves to know, too. I might not be able to tell her everything yet, but I can give her some information. I’m sick to death of lying.
“There’s something I have to tell you…” I start to say, but Falkor rounds the corner.
He stops when he sees us, eyes narrowing. “Is everything okay?”
Wren bursts into tears.