Wicked Sinner

by Stacey Kennedy

With every hard thrust sending pleasure skyrocketing through her body, she clung to him, not wanting to let go. In that honest truth, her pleasure rose until there was nothing but satisfaction flying through her. And with a final roar, he thrust forward, bucking and jerking against her, following her right over the edge.

  Many minutes later, when she could move and breathe easily again, she lifted her head from his shoulder and opened her eyes, her loft hazy in front of her. She blinked, still in Asher’s arms, his sweaty body against hers. His chest heaving and falling against hers. She blinked again, then slowly the view came clear. “Asher,” she said, breathless.

  “Mmm,” was his response as he slowly withdrew.

  “We have a problem.” He looked up at that and she gestured behind him at her loft that had been totally ransacked.

  He glanced over his shoulder, seeing what she saw. Someone had broken in.

  Everything happened so fast. One second, she stood there naked against him, the next he had thrown a blanket at her. He threw on his jeans, his muscles flexing and bulging, especially the vein in his neck. “Do not move from that spot.” Then he grabbed his cell phone while slowly moving farther into the apartment. “Get Rhett and come to Remy’s,” he obviously said to Boone. “We’ve got trouble.”

  Chapter 15

  Fun and games ended in a millisecond as Asher searched the living room to ensure Remy was safe standing at the doorway. He already knew Remy was a distraction. He just didn’t know how much of a distraction she really was, and apparently, when her sweet body was against him, he didn’t see shit. Boone and Rhett had descended on Remy’s loft once Asher sidled back up to Remy, who now had the blanket wrapped around her tightly. Boone and Rhett had cleared the rest of the property from top to bottom, ensuring every hiding spot possible had been searched.

  Only when they returned did Asher gather Remy’s clothes so she could get dressed again. “Here, the entourage will be arriving soon,” he told her gently. “Better get some clothes on.”

  She gave him a quick nod, and with white knuckles and an ashen face, she scooped up Salem off the windowsill. She hugged the cat and fled to the bathroom without a look at either Boone or Rhett.

  Asher had a bad taste in his mouth as he stared at the closed door. He’d been aware of Violi, had kept a very close eye on him, but now this needed to stop. Remy needed to feel safe, and Asher was going to get it for her.

  Asher moved back to the front door and grabbed his T-shirt from the ground.

  “Let me get this straight,” Rhett said, hands shoved in his pockets, leaning against Remy’s couch. “You were too busy screwing to notice her place had been broken into and ransacked?”

  Asher pulled the T-shirt over his head. “I meant to leave out that part when I told you what happened.”

  “Classic.” Rhett burst out laughing.

  Boone chuckled along and then examined the windows in the living room, careful not to touch anything. “I checked the security videos.” Which either Asher or Boone could do from their cell phones. Technology was a godsend most days. “The video caught someone going through the back door, then coming back out, wearing all black. Can’t see his face.”

  “This has gotta be Violi,” Asher said, voicing his earlier thoughts.

  Rhett moved to the window next to him and glanced out. “I see why your mind would go there, but what would Violi want in Remy’s loft?”

  “That’s what we need to find out.” A sudden knock on the door had Asher biting back the curse words sitting on his tongue. He turned and opened the door, finding that the crime scene investigators had arrived. “Miss nothing,” he told them. “Extra attention to detail here.”

  “Sure,” Tony, one of the tech guys said, entering Remy’s apartment.

  Asher’s vision tunneled on her living room, and his jaw muscles flexed with the adrenaline pulsing through him. Asher wanted to clean up her place and get it back to normal for her, but the scene needed processing. He shut the door behind the crime techs and his gaze returned to the bathroom door. She should have been out by now. He knocked on the door. “Remy?”

  A pause. “I just need a minute more.” Her voice cracked.

  He gritted his teeth, picturing the tears streaming down her face. “Take your time,” he called. Then he turned around and growled, “I want to wring that motherfucker’s neck.”

  “Which will get you nowhere fast,” Boone said.

  “Except for feeling better,” Asher mumbled, obviously loud enough for Rhett to hear and chuckle.

  Another knock came at the front door before it opened and the chief entered. He gave Boone a long look and a nod at Rhett before turning to Asher. “Is Remy all right?” he asked.

  “Rattled, but okay.” Asher glanced toward Tony as he began fingerprinting her coffee table. Asher didn’t even want to consider what might have happened if she’d been there tonight.

  “All right, that’s good,” Hank said. He scanned her loft, assessing the damage, then sighed. “Where is she?”

  “Bathroom,” Asher replied.

  Hank nodded, then frowned at the mess. “Any idea what someone would be looking for?”

  “No idea.” Tension rippled across Asher’s shoulders. He moved to the wall and leaned against it, folding his arms. “Fanning’s dead. Why is Violi still here, breaking into Remy’s place?”

  Hank rubbed his chin. “Is it possible this has nothing to do with Violi and this is simply a break-in?”

  “It’s possible,” Boone said, “but also highly unlikely. Violi has been in contact with Remy a few times. That’s too coincidental for my liking.”

  For Asher’s too.

  Hank nodded again and then shoved his hands into his pockets, tapping his boot against the hardwood floors. “Let’s say we go with the Violi theory. There’s gotta be something there that you’re missing. Breaking in here had to serve a purpose. What is it?”

  “Scaring her,” Rhett said.

  “Yes, but why?” Hank pressed. “Why would Violi go to these lengths to scare her? What could it possibly get him?”

  Asher began pacing in front of the coffee table, where there was a clear path, unable to stand still any longer. His fists clenched tight, the desire to protect Remy surging through him. “That’s the very thing I keep asking myself over and over again.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Why is this bastard sticking around and tormenting her?”

  “Because Fanning was married to his sister?” Rhett offered.

  “Which has nothing to do with Remy,” Asher stated.

  Boone frowned.

  When no one had the answer, heaviness filled the room.

  Until Hank broke the silence. “Keep at it. You’ll get the answer. You boys always do.” He moved to the bathroom door and knocked. “Remy? Can I come in for a minute?”

  The door slowly opened and Hank vanished inside. Asher started at the door, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths. “Someone was in this goddamn apartment. Touched her things. She could have been here.”

  A firm hand came on Asher’s shoulder. “And we’ll find out who and why,” Boone said.

  Not soon enough.

  The bathroom door opened again. Hank came out with wet marks on his shirt. Remy’s tears. Asher closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He wanted Violi to feel those tears, every single one of them. The taste for vengeance slid through Asher’s veins, and his ears pounded.

  Hank’s steady voice opened Asher’s eyes. “I’m aware this is a hard situation for you because it’s personal.” He cupped his shoulder, squeezing tight. “But you need to keep your emotions out of this one. Figure the case out, get it solved, and that’s the best way to protect Remy.” He leaned in and his gaze firmed. “I don’t want you anywhere near Lars Violi. If you want to question him, Boone takes the lead there. Am I understood, Sullivan?”

  Asher instinctively wanted to rebel against the order. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good.” Hank dropped his hand and his gaze swept over
Rhett and Boone. “Update me once the crime techs have finished and if anything develops there.”

  “Will do,” Boone said.

  When the front door shut behind Hank, Rhett said, “Violi is still at the B and B. We’ve had eyes on him the entire time, and other than him sitting outside Remy’s shop and her approaching him, he hasn’t taken a step out of line.”

  “Until he had someone break into Remy’s loft,” Asher grumbled, running a hand over his face. He studied Tony, who was still fingerprinting the scene. Asher could break the order of his superior and frighten Violi the way he’d frightened Remy, but that wasn’t doing right by her. Not in the way she needed him. “I’m taking Remy back to my place until we’ve got prints or something we can move on.”

  Rhett’s gaze swept the mess with a frown before he glanced Asher’s way. “I’ll keep close tabs on Violi, but I doubt we’ll get anything from that.”

  “You’ve got eyes on him,” Asher said. “That’s good enough for me right now.”

  Boone agreed with a nod. “I’ll keeping digging and see if anything comes up in Violi’s past. Chief’s right—there’s gotta be something here we’re missing.”

  Done with thinking of anyone but Remy, Asher moved toward the bathroom door. “If you get anything, call.”

  He heard the guys leave through the front door, and the chatter of Tony and the other crime tech behind him, when he knocked on the bathroom door. “Remy.”

  “Come in.”

  He opened the door and found her sitting on the floor with her back against the wall. Asher contained the blistering rage boiling beneath his skin. Remy had been through so much. Too much. Asher lived by the law. He was ruled by the black and white, never living in the gray area. But Remy’s damp, overly bright eyes, and the way she flinched at the noises outside the bathroom, made Asher want to make Violi pay. “I have an idea,” he said.

  “What’s that?” Her voice shook.

  His gut churned at the emptiness in her eyes. “How about we go to my house, get you into the bath, burn that smelly protection stuff, eat some chocolate, and build a fort you can hide in.”

  Sudden warmth spread across her face with her small smile. A smile that eased the weight in his chest. Asher offered his hand, and as soon as her cool fingers twined with his, he could breathe easier.

  He pulled her into him, and she came willingly. “I’m sorry this happened,” he said, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

  She sniffed, trembling against him. “It’s just really scary.”

  “I know. It is scary.” He leaned away, tucked a finger under chin, capturing those eyes holding a soul he’d do anything to protect. “But you’re not alone.” He cupped her face, then brought his mouth close to hers, and before he claimed the kiss, he said, “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

  * * *

  The drive back to Asher’s place had felt like an hour, even though it was only ten minutes. Remy couldn’t quite wrap her head around what happened. Not that someone broke into her house. And certainly not that she was potentially now in danger. And she was still trying to come to terms with Damon’s murder. But all those worries and concerns seemed to drift away when she lay back in the hot bath, the rose oil–scented steam rising up in the small bathroom. She brought all of her grief for Damon into this small space with her, feeling every little bit of it, when she lit the white votive candle on the small pedestal sink. She’d let that flame burn all night, and when it went out, Damon would find peace and cross over. Where he’d go from there, she didn’t know, but that wasn’t for her to decide. What she did know was that her grief and sadness over Damon would drain away with the bath water.

  She couldn’t take these feelings with her, not with what he’d tried to take from her.

  The flowered wallpaper was the same as it had always been. Remy had been surprised when they arrived at the house to find that Asher hadn’t changed much of it except some of the furniture. She wondered if maybe that was because this was Asher’s childhood home. To change anything would be like letting his mother go.

  The flame flickered light across Remy’s bare knees poking out of the water. This house felt like a second home. Remy spent most of her days growing up in this house. Maybe it even felt like home now, considering Remy had sold Nana’s place after she’d passed away. Remy couldn’t be there without Nana in it. That’s why she’d moved into the loft, but the loft never felt like home. It always felt temporary.

  She shut her eyes, letting the hot water relax her tense muscles. She said a little prayer for Damon, hoping he crossed over with ease and peace that did not happen in his death. After that, a thousand things rushed through her mind. So many who and what and where, but in the end, she had no answers for anything. Though she did have one thing—suspicions, and there was only one person she wanted to talk to about that: Kinsley. She felt bad excluding Peyton, but Peyton had Boone, and Remy didn’t want to mess up their relationship by forcing Peyton to keep secrets from her fiancé. She knew Kinsley could keep secrets from her brother. They had been doing it for years.

  The ringing of her cell phone snapped Remy’s eyes open. She quickly grabbed the towel off the floor and dried her hands, then reached for her cell and smiled at the screen. “I was just thinking about you,” she said into the phone.

  Kinsley laughed softly. “Our soul-sister bond at its finest.” Then her voice went tender. “Boone told me what happened. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m all right,” she said with a long sigh, moving her toes in the warm water. “I’m at Asher’s now. It’s just scary, you know, and so freaking creepy that someone was in my house looking through my stuff.”

  “Totally freaky,” Kinsley agreed. “Boone said that he thought Lars might behind all this. What do you think?”

  Remy shrugged, even if Kinsley couldn’t see it, and the water rippled beneath her. “It’s gotta be Lars. Who else would it be? He’s the only criminal that’s hanging around me lately.”

  “I mean, I get that, but why would he ransack your house?”

  And that’s where Remy’s suspicions came in. “You know, after we found my place all messed up, I went into the bathroom and had a mini breakdown in there.”

  “Understandable,” Kinsley commented.

  “Yeah, I suppose so.” Remy took in a deep breath. “But the more I sat in there by myself, the more I kept wondering…do you think it’s possible that Lars knows about the money and that’s what he’s looking for?”

  “No,” Kinsley said in an instant. Then she paused. “I mean, why would you think he’d know about the money?”

  “I don’t know. It just popped into my head.” Remy stared up at the candlelight flickering on the ceiling. “It’s just that, every time I see Lars, he keeps saying that he was interested in me and my shop. I thought it was all about Damon at first, but then after someone broke in and seemed to be looking for something, I can’t help but think, what if it was the money?”

  Kinsley paused even longer this time. “I guess that wouldn’t be totally impossible, but Lars’s sister will be paid back the money Damon stole from her. Remember, he had tons of money in the bank account. Besides, Boone also told me that the lawyers were already working through all the finances.”

  Good and all, but…“Maybe this isn’t about money so much as it is about principle. Damon took something from Lars’s sister. He wants revenge for that.”

  “Well, I’d say killing him is enough revenge, don’t you think?”

  Remy’s throat tightened but she pushed past it, placing her wet hand across her forehead. “Ugh. You’re right. Just something about all this feels…connected or something, I don’t know.”

  “I think you need to look at it like this,” Kinsley said. “How would Lars even know that Damon had the money in your house?”

  Another thing that came to Remy’s mind in the bathroom. “What if Damon told him,” Remy pointed out. “When I went and saw Damon in jail, he had asked me for a
favor, remember? That’s why I went looking in the first place. What if the favor was that he needed me to get the money to Lars because he knew if he didn’t, his life was in danger?”

  Kinsley huffed. “Now just wait a second, missy. Don’t even start that, Remy Brennan. Damon’s murder is not even remotely close to being your fault. Even if what you say is true, and Lars wants the money, it still wouldn’t be your fault.” She hesitated, then her voice softened. “I think you’re way off base here. Maybe the break-in has nothing to do with Damon or Lars at all.”

  “Maybe,” Remy said, more or less to end the conversation, swishing her legs in the water. Her instincts told her everything felt connected somehow…she just didn’t know how exactly.

  The bathroom door slowly opened, spilling light from the hallway into the bathroom as Asher strode in carrying a beer and a wineglass. “Listen, Kins, Asher’s here. Can I call you later?”

  “Of course,” Kinsley said. “Don’t worry about anything. Everything is going to work out, Remy. It always does.”

  Does it? She had finally felt like everything was back on track, yet life always seemed to put a major road block in her way of happiness. “Yeah, I know. Thanks for checking in. Love you.”

  “Love you back. Bye.”

  The phone line went dead as Asher handed her the glass of wine. She offered her phone before accepting the glass.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Everything okay?” he asked.

  Everything wasn’t okay at all, but how could she possibly tell him the mess she’d gotten herself into or anything about her suspicions? “Now that I have wine, it’s better.” She forced a smile.

  “It’s been a day,” he said. “Mind if join you?”

  “Not at all.” She leaned her head back against the tub and wiggled her eyebrows. “Trying to improve my day?” she asked, hearing the rising heat in her own voice.

  “Always.” He grinned, reaching for his T-shirt and pulling it over his head in that fast way men do. His jeans and boxer briefs followed, then Asher stood in all his masculine beauty with hard everything. The candlelight made his skin glow, putting shadows in all the grooves of his muscles. Her gaze fell lower, and her mouth watered at how much he wanted her.