Didi #3
He sighs. “You’re safe in this house. I won’t kill you…yet.”
I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
I curl up on his bed in my wet clothes and stare at his leather-bound books—Killers don’t read books, do they?
Killers don’t usually display thirty gold medals in a row, either.
Or have photos of their friends on the wall.
My attention drifts to one of Remy and Tommy when they were younger.
Their eyes in the picture weren’t as heavy as they are now.
Remy’s arm is around Tommy’s in a headlock, and both are grinning, looking mischievous.
Remy’s comment about Cindy makes my nerves fire.
I can’t imagine sleeping with one of them, let alone both.
As I’m scanning the photos, I hear muffled voices through a vent—one of which is a woman, and she sounds angry. I lean over the bed to capture the voices before lying back down when the voices abruptly stop.
After a few minutes he returns with my water, sits at the side of the bed, and I cup it with both hands and drink it before placing it on the nightstand, and pretend I wasn’t eavesdropping. Clearly, he’s not alone in this house.
I watch as he takes off his leather jacket and gets more comfortable. He senses my eyes on him as I stare at the flex of his biceps under his tight T-shirt that matches the hair on his face. Where Tommy is all legs, Remy has brawny arms and dark facial hair.
“What is it?” he asks.
Were you at my house last week? Did you leave the scarecrow?
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
His eyes roam my body, and his pupils flicker. “I have a thing for innocent little lambs.”
My stomach flutters the same way it does every time I’m with him. “I am not a little lamb, and I’m not innocent.” I can’t tell if it’s coming from a place of good or evil—Lamb of God or Lamb to the Slaughter—and since when does he have a thing for me?
He rubs his thumb along my wrist as if inspecting it. “Yeah, you are. Everything about you exudes innocence.”
“Funny,” I mutter, kicking off my shoes. “I’m pretty sure I was just called the devil.”
He has no witty response to that.
His presence is heavy as he reaches down and grabs the hem of my dress to pull it off me. My hand reaches for him to stop. “Don’t,” I whisper.
“Your dress is wet, and you’re going to ruin my satin sheets.”
For whatever reason, I let him pull it off, and it’s not because of his satin. His eyes linger on my legs and drift up to the belt, and heat finally hits my cheeks—although it hardly seems to matter anymore.
“What the hell is that?” His hands find the top of it, his thumb playing with the little lock. Heat rolls through my body, firing all my senses.
He moves my knees, and I spread them slightly. “It’s a chastity belt.”
His eyes linger on the lock between my legs—the only thing stopping him from seeing what I’m bearing underneath.
“I see that, but why are you wearing it?”
I can’t help the smirk that forms on my lips as I gaze up at him. “Because I’m a little lamb. I thought that’s what you liked?”
Desire flows through his eyes as he watches me and runs his hand along the facial hair on his chin. It’s a look I recognize. He’s looked at me like that from the very beginning—from the first day, the first moment we met. His finger pauses at the little buckle, and I nearly combust.
God, save me from eternal damnation.
He rises and walks to his dresser, grabbing me a T-shirt and tossing it at me. I scramble to get it on, not knowing what just came over me. It’s like I’m possessed when I’m near him.
My breath is heavy, thinking about what he told me he and Tommy did to Cindy.
I curl my knees into myself. “What was it like?” I ask him.
He tilts his head and sits on the end of the bed. “What was what like?”
I flick my gaze away momentarily as heat fills my cheeks. “You said you and Tommy both had…relations with Cindy.”
He tilts his head back and arches a brow. “You want to know what it was like fucking the preacher’s daughter?”
I bite my lip and nod. “I was a preacher’s daughter once, too.”
His eyes darken, and he runs his thumb along his bottom lip as if this is some sort of joke. I shift under his intense gaze. “Why do you want to know that?”
I cross my legs, and my nipples pebble under his thin T-shirt. “Because I’ve never done it before, and I’m curious. Please tell me.”
He gives me a vicious smile. “Tell me one thing first. Has Tommy kissed you yet?”
My face tenses. “I’m not answering that.”
He leans closer, his hand playing with the hem of my shirt. “How far did he get with you under those bleachers? I’m guessing it wasn’t far. First base? Second?”
I frown. “I don’t know what that means.”
He snickers, reaching for my face. I stiffen as his knuckles brush against my cheek. “You wouldn’t, would you.”
His gaze drops, tracing a dangerous path down my neck, along my collarbone, to the swell of my breasts, the peak of my nipple visible through my shirt.
He savors the moment, then slides his hand beneath my shirt, ignoring my belt as he moves upward toward my bare breasts, and my body goes wholly still.
“He kissed me,” I whisper before he can go any further, and his hand freezes.
He smiles. “What else?” His hand slides higher, closer. The heat between my legs intensifies, and my body stiffens. My back arches into him like I have no control over myself.
“Nothing else.” I plead with my eyes for him to stop. “We kissed. That’s all we’ve done.”
He moves his hand to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. “Like this?”
God, help me.
His lips find mine, soft and gentle. My body tenses for a moment before he deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue inside my mouth, and everything relaxes.
I move my hand to his abdomen as he lies beside me, keeping his lips tethered to mine. We stay like this for a few moments, and I nibble on him, exploring his mouth with mine, tasting him. The experience is still so raw, so different.
I’m kissing Remy…
He pulls his lips off mine, and I’m acutely aware of the space between us. It’s empty and cold…
“Tommy had her first,” he says, and my eyes flicker up to him. He reaches down and moves his hand up my thigh, smooth like whipped butter. “He slid his hand up her leg, like this.”
My lips part, and he moves his hand over my stomach. My heart is already pulsing, and beating so steadily, but his touch makes it pound. “Then what happened?” I ask in a breathy moan.
He slides his hand to my breast, his skin soft and tender over my bare nipple.
“He touched her here.” The contact puts my body into an inferno, and I let out a tiny squeaky noise I don’t recognize.
He removes his hand, but the damage is already done.
The pulsing need hits me like a ton of bricks, throbbing so hard it hurts.
He moves his lips to my neck, and I tilt my head, letting him in. I want more…I need more. “Then what?” I ask him as everything starts to go blurry.
“He slid his dick inside her while leaning over her. He gripped her waist while she gripped the tree, splitting her apart like Moses. And I fucked her right after. She might not have even realized the difference, but she moaned louder with me.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I hadn’t asked.
“Remy…” He kisses me again. This time with more hunger, and all the sweet release I’ve been craving bundles up in my belly in one hard knot.
I push him away, but it’s a pathetic attempt, and the heat continues to build before my body throbs in a way I don’t recognize.
“Stop,” I whisper against his lips, but it’s too late. My body convulses with immense pleasure, and my entire body releases.
He pulls his hands off my breast but keeps his lips close to mine and smiles. “Any more questions?”
What the hell did he just do to me?
My hand finds my cross, and I give a silent prayer as tears sting my eyes from what I just let happen. “Why are you and Tommy doing this to me?”
His voice hardens as he squeezes my upper thigh. “Because Tommy and I run this damn town, little lamb—you might want to remember that.”