by Alex Grayson
“No,” he grunts. “My dad was a bastard from hell.”
“Was?” I ask quietly.
His eyes lift to mine. “Yes. He’s exactly where he should be. In Hell.”
Reaching over, I place my hand on his. “I’m sorry.”
“Why? It’s a wasted emotion when it comes to that man.”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry because whatever he did to you must have been awful for you to carry so much hatred inside you.”
“It’s not what he did, it’s what he didn’t do. Him and my mother.”
My heart aches for JW. I want nothing more than to go to him, wrap my arms around him, and offer whatever comfort I can. His body is too stiff for something like that though. I want to ask him to elaborate. I’m curious what the two people did who were supposed to love and cherish their child, but I hold back my question. Something tells me whatever is was, it was horrendous.
Wanting the lighter conversation of before, I suggest playing Would You Rather. His lips twitch, and I’m glad to see some of the darkness leave his eyes. The game may sound childish, but it’s a really good way to get to know someone. For instance, I now know JW would rather eat bugs than cottage cheese, go skydiving over bungee jumping, and his favorite holiday is Halloween. He thinks cold coffee is an abomination and the person who invented it should be hogtied and strung up, he’d rather hold a cobra than be within ten feet of a spider, and he likes Coke over Pepsi.
Of course, JW had to dirty the game up by giving naughty scenarios. Like which one I would choose between; being watched while I have sex or do the watching myself. I chose the latter. What can I say? There’s just something so hot about watching a man and a woman go at it. He followed that question up with would I rather watch two men or two women. His lips curled in disgust when I said two men.
By the time we’re done eating and playing our little game, the sun has set behind the trees on the other side of the lake. The temperature’s dropped at least ten degrees. Goosebumps appear on my arms when there’s a slight breeze. I’m reclining back on my hands with my eyes closed, when suddenly, there’s a shadow hovering over me. I feel the warmth of his body before I open my eyes and see him right in front of me. He’s sitting in the opposite direction of me with his arm across my lap and resting by my hip on the blanket. His other hand lifts and brings my braid over my shoulder.
“I love your hair,” he remarks, his eyes on the bright red strands.
I laugh. “I can tell.”
He leans closer until his breath fans across my lips. “I love your lips too. Sweet and soft.”
I hum in the back of my throat when his mouth slowly presses over mine. I open to him immediately, desperately wanting the taste of him against my tongue. He tastes like the grapes he just ate.
Using my hair, he guides my head to the side for a better angle. I really like when he does that. I like that he uses my hair to control where he wants me.
He tips my head back and starts trailing his lips down my neck. The short stubble on his cheeks and chin scrapes erotically across my flesh, doubling the pleasure of what he’s doing. My stomach tightens and a shot of lust shoots straight between my legs.
“Lie back,” he murmurs huskily against my ear.
The thought to object doesn’t even cross my mind as I lay back onto the blanket. What JW’s making me feel overpowers any inhibitions I may have.
I open my eyes when I sense him moving above me. His eyes blaze a bright blue as he stares down at me and the look sends shock waves of pleasure coursing through my blood.
He straddles my waist and bends low to settle his lips over mine once again. Lacing my fingers through his thick hair, I moan deeply into his mouth. His answering groan ramps up my need, and I jerk my hips up. I can’t go far before my body meets the heat of his. The position is all wrong. I want him between my legs, not straddling them.
Before I can voice my want, his lips leave mine, sliding down the column of my throat and across my collar bone. Shivers wrack my body and a needy moan leaves my lips.
“Mmm… you taste so good,” he groans throatily. “Like dirty words and late-night sex.”
His tongue delves between the valley of my breasts my loose shirt offers him.
“Ahh… God, that’s nice,” I say with a shuttered breath.
When his teeth tug at my nipple through my shirt, I swear stars begin to dance behind my closed eyelids. I grip the strands of his hair, begging him without words for more. His mouth leaves one nipple, only to move to the next. I scissor my legs, trying and failing to relieve the ache building between them. His teeth clamp down on my nipple harder than before, and I cry out at the pleasurable stinging pain.
“Stay still.” My eyes snap open at the order, and I look at him. “Right now, your pleasure is mine. I give it to you. You don’t take it for yourself.”
I want to protest, to demand he shut the hell up and get on with it, but his eyes have left mine and he’s already making his way down my body. His breath tickles the sliver of skin exposed from the bottom of my shirt and the top of my skirt. His nose nudges up the flimsy material of my shirt, and when he spots my belly button piercing, a deep groan leaves his lips.
“Fuck if that ain’t Goddamn hot,” he rumbles thickly before dipping down and running his tongue over the silver metal bar.
The sight of my piercing may be hot to him, but his tongue is scorching on my flesh. Scorching and wildly seductive.
His tongue leaves my piercing and moves to the edge of my skirt, dipping inside and teasing me mercilessly. Slipping his fingers inside, he tugs the material down inch by inch, until he stops just before he reaches my pubic bone. My breath comes out in frantic pants, anticipation making me lightheaded and on the edge of exploding. And he hasn’t even touched my pussy yet.
“JW, please, I’m going crazy here,” I whimper.
“What do you want, Gypsy? Tell me.”
I fist the blanket at my sides and lift my head to look at him. “Touch me,” I urge, not even caring the words make me sound like I’m begging.
I am begging. God, I need his touch so much.
“Where?” he asks, pressing his chin in the apex of my thighs and pressing down.
A cry forces its way past my lips. “There! Oh, God, right there.”
Instead of giving me what I need, his weight is suddenly off me. I snap my head up, ready to growl and throw a fit if I have to, when I find him moving further down my legs. When he’s on his knees at my feet, my legs thankfully no longer beneath him, he puts his palms flat on my shins under my skirt and slowly starts pushing it upward. My legs part, the further his hands go. His eyes lock with mine, the blue in his so vivid, it sends sizzling tingles across my skin. When they reach my lower thighs, I belatedly remember we’re out in the open where anyone can come across us. I dart my head around, suddenly feeling very much on display.
“No one’s here but us,” JW says, sensing my unease. “And I’ll hear if someone approaches.”
After a moment of hesitation, I decide to trust his judgement, and give a jerky nod. I’m not entirely sure I’d care if the whole town showed up, so long as JW doesn’t stop what he’s doing.
His hands continue upward. My breath gets stuck in my throat, and I bite down on my lip, growing impatient. He scoots forward on his knees between my legs, forcing them further apart. Air glides across my center just as my skirt clears my upper thighs.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he groans, his gaze zeroing in on the place he just revealed. “No panties. And so damn pretty and wet.”
He licks his lips and doesn’t waste another minute before his head is dipping down. My stomach muscles quiver when I feel his breath on me. He inhales heavily before the first swipe of his tongue damn near catapults me off the blanket. The feeling is almost too intense. A hoarse cry explodes from my mouth, and I grip his hair. The vibrations of his growl against my heated flesh only adds fuel to the fire building inside me. I’ve had men go down on me before, but I’
ve never been so close to coming so soon after just one lap of the tongue.
“More,” I shout, lifting my hips and trying to get closer. Another lave of his tongue has me jerking and digging my heels into the blanket.
Distantly, a buzzing noise reaches my ears, but I’m so far past the point of caring at the moment. The only thing that matters is JW and his magical tongue. Latching his teeth around my clit, he sucks the nub into his mouth hard, flicking his tongue back and forth, and grinds his scruffy chin against my entrance.
I hear the buzzing again, trying to force its way into my subconscious. The noise is easily forgotten when fingers probe my hole and JW pushes them in a couple of inches. I thrash my head back and forth, nearly overcome with the sensations he’s eliciting inside me. Every nerve is sensitized. A third finger pushes inside with the other two. Penetration is always better when it’s a dick entering you, but his hands are doing just fine at the moment. Especially with what he’s doing with his mouth.
My hands still have a firm grip on his hair and my legs clamp around his head when the first electrifying jolt hits me. A rumbling growl pulses against my clit and he shoves his fingers in further. The fit is tighter because my inner walls clench and unclench around his fingers. He angles his fingers and the pleasure intensifies when he reaches my g-spot. Tossing my head back, I release a scream.
Once I slowly climb down from my high, I shudder out a breath. Opening my eyes, I glance down at JW. His smile is full of satisfaction, as it should be. He’s damn good with his mouth and hand. He pulls his fingers free of me and lifts them to his mouth. One by one, he sucks away my juices, eyes flaring with desire. His chin glistens with my arousal. I’ve never been particularly fond of seeing the evidence of my desire on a man’s face, but it works really well on JW. The sight makes me want to lick it away.
“So good. Just as sweet as I thought you would be.”
Damn, that’s hot too.
Hearing the buzzing sound again, I frown and look around for the source. JW scowls before snapping up the phone from the blanket.
Oh, it was a phone. I probably would have known that if it weren’t for the haze still fogging my brain.
“This better be fucking good,” he barks into the phone.
I flip down my skirt as he listens to whoever’s on the line. His expression darkens, and his eyes move to me. A bad feeling forms in the pit of my stomach.
“When?” A pause. “Shit.” Another pause. “She’s with me. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
As soon as the words leave his lips, I start throwing things back in the basket. Anxiety has my hands shaking and my stomach in knots. This must be about Diego.
He hangs up a moment later and I turn to him. “What happened?” I ask shakily.
His jaw flexes as he grinds his teeth together.
“Diego’s made another appearance. He attacked a man named Derek.”
I suck in a breath and release it on a painful exhale. “Is he….” I can’t even get the words out.
“No,” he grunts. “But he’ll need stitches to close the gash on his forehead.” His lips tighten. “Come on. We’re going to Trouble’s office so I can question Derek.”
We finish cleaning up our picnic and head back to the truck. My chest feels heavy with guilt on our drive over to Trouble’s.
How many more people will Diego hurt before this is all over?
JW
AS I STARE AT DEREK, seeing the bruise on the side of his face and watching Trouble put a bandage over the six stitches he needed, fury simmers just below the surface. Derek and his wife, Misty, have two small children. Children they adopted six months ago when it was discovered their father had been sexually abusing them for years and was sentenced to The Expiration Penalty. Those children suffered enough to last a life time, and for Diego to almost put them through losing another parent, makes me blind with rage.
Feeling Eden at my side, her own anger making her tremble, oddly eases some of the heat rushing through my blood stream. I’m tempted to reach over for her hand, wanting to feel her skin against mine, but I withhold the desire and take a step toward Derek when Trouble moves away from him.
I hold my phone up for Derek to look at the screen. “This the man you saw?”
He nods, then winces with the movement. “Yeah. I only got a glimpse of him before he hit me over the head, but that’s definitely him.”
I shove my phone in my pocket, my eyes briefly landing on Eden’s heated, but worried, gaze.
“Tell me exactly what happened.” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
Derek grabs his wife’s hand, who’s sitting beside him on the bed, and kisses the back of it before placing it in his lap.
“I went out to the shed to get a bucket to wash the car. As soon as I stepped through the door, a noise came from behind me. I turned just as the bastard swung a shovel at my head. It was lights out after that.” His gaze moves to Misty and shame and regret shines in his eyes. “I’m just glad he left and didn’t go after Misty and the kids.” His eyes close for a moment before they open again, and he looks back at me. “I almost sent Brittney after the bucket.”
Misty leans forward and kisses her husband’s cheek, tears swimming in her eyes. “Don’t do that to yourself, Derek. Even if you did, you couldn’t have known that man was in the shed,” she reassures her husband quietly.
He nods but doesn’t look soothed. What good parent would be? Even if he didn’t know the danger that laid waiting, the threat of your child being hurt is crippling.
“I wonder what he was doing in the shed,” Eden muses curiously.
“My guess?” Derek offers. “He was hiding out. The shed is big with plenty of room. We have a mattress in there we had planned to use for Jacob when he grew too big for the toddler bed. It was thrown on the floor with a couple of blankets. There’s also a lot of food wrappers lying around.”
That explains why no one has seen Diego around. He couldn’t simply walk into The Hill for a meal, so he came prepared. Even so, it’s hard to imagine the likes of Diego slumming it in a dirty shed. The man’s rich on his own. Add in his family’s money and you had one loaded person. I bet it really busted his chops to have to live less than stellar for the last week. It also shows his desperation. Whatever he thinks Eden has must be really important.
“Keep a close eye on your family,” I advise him. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you to not let the kids outside to play by themselves.” He nods. “I doubt he’ll go back to the shed, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not letting any of them out of my sight.”
I nod and turn to Trouble, who’s leaning against a counter. “You mind taking Eden back to your place for the night? I want to take a ride around town and check out a few places. Not sure how long I’ll be.”
“I can do that.” His eyes glitter with hatred. “You call me or one of the others if you find anything.”
I tip my chin in acknowledgement, then face Eden. “You okay going with Trouble?”
Reluctance mars her features, and I wonder if it’s because she won’t be going home with me or from the prospect of staying with people she hardly knows.
I step up to her and tuck a piece of loose hair behind her ear. My finger lingers on her smooth cheek.
“I’m sorry our evening got cut short,” I murmur quietly so the others can’t hear. “But I’ll make it up to you.”
“Don’t worry. I want Diego caught before he hurts anyone else.” Her expression holds despondency, like she somehow feels responsible for what happened to Derek. She couldn’t be further from the truth. The bastard’s just a whacked-out asshole who enjoys hurting people he thinks is below him.
Leaning down, I press a quick kiss against her lips. “We’ll get him. He’ll show his face eventually.”
And when he does, he’ll pay dearly for everything he’s done. Diego Tomas may be walking around Malus undetected, but he’s a dea
d man walking. It’s only a matter of time.
SEVERAL HOURS LATER, I toss my keys in the bowl on the kitchen counter. My gun, which is strapped to my side, gets set on the counter by the bowl. I’m tired, hungry, and very fucking pissed. I knew my chances of finding Diego were slim, but it still angers me no less that every place I checked was a dead end. I hit all the places he could be hiding out in—garages, a few abandoned houses, and even Emo’s Dad’s hunting lodge. No fucking luck. There has to be some place I’m missing.
Stopping by the fridge, I snag a beer, twist off the cap, and down half of it, turning over every possible avenue Diego could use. Even his car hasn’t been spotted. The fucker’s good, but he’s not invisible. Someone will eventually spot him.
Remembering the blueprint of the town I found years ago that my parents had, I finish off my beer, toss it in the trash, and go to my bedroom. There’s not much of my parent’s belongings that I kept when I moved back to town, but I did keep the map and a few banker boxes full of papers. Good old Mom and Dad were part of the town council, so they had access to a lot of the town’s records. Apparently, they kept a lot of them at home.
My jaw tightens when I remember the town’s law book regarding Hell Night that was among the papers. The shit my brothers and I have found out about the town over the years never ceases to amaze me. Experiencing the depravities of the town’s monthly rituals was hard enough as kids, but it was so much more than we thought.
Members of the same family are not permitted to create a child together. It’s totally acceptable to fuck, and even rape, a family member, so long as a child isn’t conceived.
Females are not allowed to participate during their menstrual cycle. Get this shit. It’s considered sacrilegious to rape a female during her period, but any other time of the month it’s okay.
Females are required to submit to an ovulation test the day before The Gathering. If the female is found to be ovulating, she is given a dose of Levonorgestrel the next morning following The Gathering. In other words, the morning after pill is shoved down her throat to prevent an unwanted pregnancy.