Chapter Eight
Rowan
I’m trying like hell to respect Loxley’s wishes. I really am, but this would be so much easier if I could tell Addison everything. It may be too much for her right now, but I hate her anger. She’s stewing across from me, mumbling along to the lyrics of some new pop song that's been circling.
I’m already attached to the steady conversation that seems to flow between us, and the silence is killing me.
It’s never been a problem before. I do mostly everything with methodical stillness. I’ve learned to adapt and thrive in the peace that’s been forced upon me in this profession.
Which is why her cold shoulder irks me so badly.
I shouldn't want her voice filling the space between us.
I shouldn't want to grab her and shake her damn shoulders just to get her to talk to me.
I shouldn't still be thinking of how small and vulnerable she felt while shaking in my arms, or the way she clung to me like I was a lifeline and she needed me to ground her.
“You never answered my question,” I say, breaking the tension.
She’s quiet for a moment, and I don't think she's going to answer me until she lets out a little sigh. “My dad and I liked to drink coffee early in the morning before he left for work. Well, I would drink chocolate milk, and he would drink coffee that was too strong to be considered normal.”
Her lips twitch at the memory, and I release the breath I was holding. Anything is better than her shutting me out.
“From what I can remember, we liked to go hiking.
He took me to Montana a few times when we visited my uncle and cousin.
My mom never went with us because she hated the outdoors, and that's all we did while we were there.
We would fish, hike, and sleep under the stars.
Uncle Ford always asked about my mom, but Dad would shut him down so quickly that it made my head spin.
Eventually, we stopped going. I'm still not sure what happened, but I haven't seen them since then. It’s been years now.” She gives a weak laugh that teeters on bitterness.
“They probably wouldn't even remember what I look like.”
My chest pangs at the somber note in her tone. “Do you ever think about reaching out?”
She stares out at the passing scenery, trapped in a daydream, I only get the privilege of seeing from the outside. “Sometimes. I tried a few years back, but my cousin Logan must have changed his number.”
I take her in, the turn of her body as she faces the window instead of me, the droop of exhaustion weighing her shoulders down, and the distant, faraway look in her eyes.
Addison is strong, but she isn't invincible.
Again, all I can think of is how fragile she felt in my arms. I can still feel her trembling as if the buzz of the electricity under her skin sent bolts straight to mine.
Like we shared her fear for a small moment.
My whole life has been pain and suffering and how I can take that away from my siblings.
I’ve sacrificed everything to keep them well-adjusted and on a clear path.
Meanwhile, I was left in the dust. Once I saw them mature and begin their own lives, it left me feeling hollow.
I had dedicated years to them without thought of what my future would hold.
For the first time in a very long time, I’m allowing myself to let go. Atlas and Thalia don’t need me anymore, but there is someone else who may—someone I don’t mind being an anchor for.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say softly. “If you ever think about going to Montana and would like some company, I’m always free.”
She turns toward me, curiosity on her features. “You would go to Montana with me?”
In a heartbeat.
“Of course.”
She stares at me for a moment. “You don’t even know me, Rowan. I could be a serial killer.”
No, I’m a serial killer, and she has no idea she’s trapped in here with me. The irony of this situation almost has a laugh slipping from me.
“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” I gaze at her, momentarily struck by how enchanting her eyes are.
They’re more green than brown, but when they catch the light just right, they seem to lighten until the brown specks in them turn a shade of gold that captivates anyone paying close enough attention to the detail.
Her lips tug up, a slow appreciative smile gracing her face that makes my heart pound. How many nights have I dreamed of this? Her smile, all for me. “I guess we will.”
I find myself smiling along with her, infected by the small camaraderie we’ve established. “If you plan to kill me, how are you going to do it?”
Her eyes narrow, but she doesn't lose her smirk. “Now, Rowan Kingsley, what kind of serial killer would I be if I told my next victim how I was plotting to kill them?”
My full government name. This is serious.
“Are you plotting how to kill me?” I ask.
She hums. “Maybe. Especially if you won't tell me what’s going on.”
There it is.
I don't expect her to let this go. I know I wouldn't. “By tonight, you’ll know. I promise.”
She makes a small, frustrated sound that's far too cute to be threatening. “Why can't you just tell me? Come on, Row Row.” She leans across the console, resting an elbow on it as she places her chin in her hand. She’s the closest she’s been to me since I held her in my arms, and my body notices right away.
As if awoken by her nearness, my dick stiffens, and I subtly shift to get comfortable.
“That nickname isn't doing you any favors.” I deadpan.
She reaches out, her fingers fluttering over my bicep before she rubs a hand over my arm. I notice the gentle squeeze of her digits over my muscle, and I close my eyes, tortured by her.
She’s touching me with soft caresses that shoot straight to my cock. Her nails, a light pink shade and perfectly shaped, cut across my skin, and I imagine that hand wrapped around my length, squeezing as she works me to completion.
“Pretty please,” she begs, batting her lashes. “I won’t tell anyone. I won't even tell Loxley that you told me.”
My fucking restraint is waning. All I can think of is her on her knees for me, those wide eyes gazing up as I stuff her pretty mouth full until tears track down her cheeks.
“Please,” she pleads softly, shaking my arm. “What do I have to do to get you to tell me the tiniest bit of information? I’ll do anything.”
Fuck me.
Her request makes that dark part of me rear its ugly head. My next words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “Anything?”
Her smile fades a little, and her look reminds me of trapped prey. She didn't think of the implication of her words until just now, and I’m not letting her back down so easily. I flick on the blinker, pulling off on the shoulder as I shift into park.
“Rowan—” she starts, but I cut her off.
“You said anything, Sunshine.” My tone is slightly taunting as I tilt my head. “I’m taking you up on your offer. One favor for information.”
I revel in the hesitancy that passes behind her eyes. I could ask for anything, and she knows that. But I know her far better than she thinks. Addison won’t back down from anything.
“Okay. One favor for information.” She agrees, her voice sounding small in the space between us. “What do you want?”
What am I doing?
I shouldn't be scaring her like this…
“I want a thank you for saving you,” the words are coarse and rough coming from me. My cock stirs, straining against my leg at the image I've conjured in my head.
Her lips part as she attempts to sit back in her seat, but my hand shoots out, gathering her hair at the nape of her neck as I pull her back across the console.
“What are you doing?!” Her hands claw at my wrist, but I’m holding her so tightly she can't break free.
I get even with her, our eyes level. “You can either choke on my cock, or I’ll let you go, and we can forget you don't know how to stop running that fucking mouth. The choice is yours, Sunshine.”
She peers at me through her lashes, eyes defiant and hard.
Say no.
Let this go, and we can go back to normal. I can forget all about this slip, and she won’t be subjected to what lurks beneath the surface—the dark, depraved things I want to do to her.
Say fucking no.
I should know better than to hope for something that's so out of character for her.
Her hands reach across the console before they move my shirt away from my jeans.
Her cold fingers ghost my lower stomach, and I shiver at her touch as she unbuttons my pants.
She slides the zipper down, and my cock pulses against my leg.
“You’re sick,” she grits angrily before reaching past the waistband of my boxer briefs.
“You have no idea.”
She shakes her head, her eyes trained on my lap as her fingers wrap around the base of me and she pulls me free.
I see the shock in her gaze as she takes in my length. Her throat bobs, and I swear I see reluctance on her face.
“Don’t get scared now, Addison.” I tut, gathering more of her hair in my fist. “You’re the one cashing checks that mouth can’t afford.”
She swallows, her hand squeezing around the velvet steel tightly. “I’m not scared.”
Sure, she isn't.
That’s why she keeps staring at me rather than doing anything.
“Open your mouth,” I command, pulling her closer to my lap. “After I cum, you’re going to thank me. Do you understand?”
Her lips pinch together, and I know she wants to fight. She wants to tell me to fuck off, but she isn't in any position to do so right now. “Yes, sir.” She finally mumbles as if pained by her obedience.
My head rolls back against the headrest, anticipation building until I can’t take it anymore.
She fixes her position, kneeling in the passenger seat while using the console to support herself.
She hovers over my lap, letting her spit drip onto the bulbous head to lube it.
One hand works her saliva down my member, the sticky sound filling the cab as I watch her give herself a mental pep talk.