“Cut out his tongue or stuff a rag in his mouth?” Daimler’s eyes widened and he clamped his mouth shut. She almost giggled at the fear that had finally silenced the man.
“The rag. A last mercy,” she allowed, watching with a thrill as Theo stalked to Daimler and shoved it into his mouth.
Daimler’s eyes followed Theo around the space, leaking tears as if the quiet suddenly told him his fate. Theo walked over next to Dusty, leading Daimler’s eyes to her. Muffled grunts filled the air as the man pleaded desperately to two people who weren’t listening.
“Do you know why you’re here?” Theo’s voice was so damn quiet, Dusty had to strain to hear it, even though he stood next to her. She knew that was dangerous. She’d had her altercations with the man and knew that this tone was deceptive. His scent was overpowering, and she wondered if the adrenaline was what she smelled. Whatever it was, she wanted to bathe in it.
Shaking his head furiously, Daimler tried to spit out the gag, but he wasn’t able to.
“Look at her and tell me you don’t know.” Theo’s voice was calm, and Dusty felt a slimy chill crawl up her back as Daimler’s eyes crawled across her body. “Her face, idiot. Look at her face.” Theo’s voice held an edge to it that would have scared her if it were directed at her.
With a resigned look in his eyes, Daimler looked at her face, and Theo walked behind her and helped him out by removing her baseball hat and taking down her ponytail. His fingers raked through her hair, and if she wasn’t mistaken, they lingered. Surely she was mistaken. His hands on her, even in this twisted setting, were exciting, and she wanted to arch and curl like a cat. But Daimler’s eyes flared with recognition. Even with black hair, the resemblance was uncanny. Yay for twins. Daimler started talking around his gag, the words muffled and unrecognizable.
“I imagine now, he’s telling us about his children and wife at home, trying to garner sympathy for himself as a family man, don’t you think?” Theo was looking at her now, his words completely reasonable. Terrifyingly so. “What his family doesn’t know is that he’s fucking two women at work, one a new cashier, and one the customer service manager, who he’s been fucking for years. But that’s okay.” He turned to the man strapped to the table. “Your wife knows now, so your death won’t be a huge loss. By the way, your wife is fucking Bentley James, Esquire. He’s a little older, well, a lot older, and I’m pretty sure she’s just in it for the money, but she thinks she’ll divorce you and marry him eventually.” He took a step forward. “This way will be better for the kiddos. You did take out that life insurance policy a couple of years ago. Such a good husband.”
“How do you know so much about them?” Dusty couldn’t help but ask. Some part of her hated to actually speak in front of this man, as if giving him her voice would give him some semblance of power over her. But even beyond her fear, she realized she and Theo were the ones in charge here. Daimler couldn’t do anything to her from his current position.
“I’ve spent the last ten years obsessing over them. The last three years observing, following, and researching. You’d be amazed at what you can buy on the internet with the right resources.” He tapped his phone in his back pocket and she remembered he’d cloned their phones.
She thought back to the trial, and Theo’s testimony. These men had looked quite a bit younger, but she remembered Daimler was the one who had sodomized Sunny with a broomstick handle, probably killing her. The memory brought a brand-new rage; it filled her and she let it seep out of her pores. Dusty wanted to use the rage, not leaving it unchecked. She looked around and found a mop in the corner.
“Well, let’s get this one done, shall we?” Dusty stalked over to the mop in the corner and walked back into Daimler’s line of sight with it, before cracking it over her knee and breaking it in two, tossing the mop head away. Theo picked it up and carefully dropped it into the bucket he had waiting before taking a knife and cutting away Daimler’s pajama pants.
Daimler was openly weeping now. His fate decided.
A red haze fell over Dusty’s vision, and she moved on autopilot. The next hour was a blur for Dusty as she fulfilled this man’s fate of a horrible death in retribution for the death he’d caused.
It didn’t feel wrong. She didn’t feel dirty, even though the act was disgusting. She felt like a goddess of destiny. Shoulders back, head held high, she watched as Theo stuffed his body—rolled up in plastic sheeting—into the drum, like before.
Theo’s movements were exacting, precise. She imagined he too was somewhere else inside his head, perhaps becoming his own avenging angel of death? His brows furrowed in concentration as he worked, his shoulders massive and powerful, his hands deftly completing the tasks.
It was beautiful, honestly.
As he rolled the now marked drum to the pile where the other drum was, she realized he seemed lighter than he had earlier, as if killing Daimler was helping him to become free from Sunny’s ghost.
She supposed it did.
Silence reigned on the ride home, not even the radio played as they were both lost in their thoughts of what they’d done. Dusty found she didn’t regret it; she wasn’t sorry she’d killed a man. Even though she hadn’t given the death blow, that had ultimately been Theo and his knife. But each thrust of the mop handle had given her a renewed sense of purpose, each scream from behind the gag had given her a satisfaction she’d never had before.
Sunny’s death was pointless, but this death had the purpose of vengeance for her sister, and she would do it over and over again. It was a high she couldn’t explain, this eye for an eye thing.
Back in her apartment, Theo gestured for her to shower first, and she did, feeling the water cleanse her physically of the mess of the killing. But something else happened too. The spray washed into her and mixed with the righteousness inside her, filling all the cracks that had been left with Sunny’s death.
Losing a twin was like losing a limb. She’d been split in two when Sunny had died. She would always be split. It was a cliché that was still around because it was true. Even though she and Sunny weren’t super close physically, losing that part of her had been the worst thing she could ever go through, and tonight had been the first step toward making herself whole again.
She could be whole someday. That realization gave her a lightness to her step as she got out of the shower and dried off, wrapping the towel around her before stepping out.
“Give me your clothes.” Theo had a trash bag in one hand, while the other was held out for her things. When he had them, he disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Dusty to her new thoughts.
She went to the sink and drank glass after glass of water, unwilling to give up the sensations from the shower. The water soothed her throat and gave her a sense of fullness, filling up the chinks inside. When she heard the shower shut off, she realized Theo hadn’t said a word, besides demanding her clothes, since the warehouse.
But something had shifted with him too.
She could sense it in the way he walked out of the bathroom, the garbage bag still clutched in his hands. He was dressed in black pajama pants and nothing else, water droplets still clinging to his torso. She saw tufts of dark hair peeking out from under his arms and the trail of dark hair leading into his pants.
He was so masculine it took her breath away, shades of darkness in her sudden lightness, and she clutched the countertop behind her, momentarily frozen.
“Are you alright?” he asked her, his low voice loud in her tiny apartment. He watched her carefully, as if waiting and expecting her to fall apart at any moment. But she was ready to fly.
“Actually, yes. I feel fantastic.” She smiled at him, and something changed in his demeanor.
His eyes focused on her mouth, his own curving into a semblance of a smile, but the predator from the warehouse came back a fraction. Slowly, he stalked toward her, his shoulders hunched forward, his steps light, as if pulled by a thread toward her.
Was she reeling him in?
&
nbsp; His eyes on her were a coarse caress, as if sandpaper were raking across her skin. She suddenly felt naked, even though she’d put on a light nightgown. It must have been see-through, because the look he gave her was unlike any he’d given her before.
Her breasts felt full and heavy, her nipples tingly under his gaze. Warmth pooled in her panties, and she suddenly felt shy, exposed. Spinning around, she reached for her glass again to refill it, but then his chest pressed against her back, and they both froze.
She could feel his heartbeat, fast and strong, against her shoulder blade. His breath was on the top of her head, harsh and ragged.
Dusty realized she wanted this right now. She’d wanted it from the beginning, but denied herself because it was obvious he hated her. But right now, he didn’t seem to be hating.
He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with her scent, and almost groaned on the exhale.
“I can’t be who you want me to be.” His words were hoarse, dark, and opened all sorts of doors for her.
“You don’t know who I want, Theo.” It made her sad, really. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted, and she knew for certain he didn’t. She didn’t love him making assumptions about her, either, because he was basing those assumptions on ten years ago. Who she was. Who her sister was.
She wasn’t either of those people.
His hands slowly started moving. One came up to her throat, tilting her head back against his shoulder. She got a whiff of his scent, clean shower wash and some underlying scent of earthiness, something dark and wild. It was the scent she’d smelled in the warehouse, in her storeroom. She loved that smell, couldn’t get enough of it, and she finally gave in to the urge to arch her back. His other hand clutched her nightgown, under her breast, as if stopping himself from ripping it in two.
“I’ll hurt you.” His simple words unleashed a floodgate of emotions inside her. She couldn’t be hurt. Not anymore. Tonight had healed her so much, and before that, she’d been so hurt there was no way anyone could hurt her more.
So she lied.
“It’s just sex. We did something tonight that released a bunch of endorphins and now we’re riding on an adrenaline high. We should just do this. Get it out of our system.” She sounded breathless, and she supposed it was the anticipation. They’d been tiptoeing around the idea of each other for a decade. Tonight was the night things would change.
His mouth fell on her shoulder, sucking hard and deep on the skin. A moan escaped her lips, a triumphant noise. He’d believed her. And then he bit down, hard. She cried out.
She couldn’t resist pressing her backside into the erection digging into her ass, and it served to make Theo lose all semblance of self-control.
A noise came from the back of his throat, and his hands went behind her, ripping the back of her nightgown in two, his mouth following as he sank down, licking and biting her back on a path to her ass. He grasped the flesh between his hands, molding it, spreading it, and then burying his face in her backside with a low growl.
Dusty bent over the sink, allowing him to take what he wanted and feeling the pleasure. His mouth on her dark places, going lower to her folds. She arched her back, allowing access, and he swiped his tongue back up, circling her puckered hole.
It felt dark and decadent and wild. It was something feral, and when his teeth nipped her fleshy cheeks before delving back to the folds of her pussy, she almost melted.
Theo stayed there, sucking her into his mouth before finding her clit and concentrating there. It was as if he was angry and was determined to make her feel the most painful pleasure. Between the grip of his hands and his teeth, she was being scraped and pinched on a fine line of torturous pain and delirious pleasure.
He held her clit between his teeth, clamping down while his tongue flicked back and forth, sending a riot of sensations through her body. She shook, goosebumps covering her skin, and when he let go with his teeth, he sucked her clit into his hot mouth and the release of the blood back into the tiny bundle of nerves set her off.
Her orgasm rolled through her as he slapped her ass. Hard. Then again. Each slap sent another ricochet of sensation though her limbs, before they settled in her belly. She was moaning, each intake of breath an eager bid for air, while each exhale was a rough plea for more.
More.
He stood, yanking on her hair to stand her up straight. In her ear, he said, “You want this? I won’t stop.” His words were rougher than she’d ever heard, and she imagined a feral smile on his face.
Against his grip on her hair, she nodded. “Please. More.” She wanted it harder. She wanted him to hurt her. It was delicious and perfect and exactly what she needed.
He shoved her back over and his harsh grip on her hips positioned her. One hand left her hip, while the other gripped it harder, and then she was—
Oh God. So fucking full.
He slammed into her, then his hand snaked around to her throat, again pulling her up to his chest. His grip on her throat tightened, and he growled in her ear.
“Be careful what you wish for.”
A heady sensation flowed through Dusty as he held her close to his chest, his cock twitching inside her, his heartbeat now as erratic as his breath. His hand tightened as he felt her smile, which was impossible, but it was almost like he hated that she was enjoying this. The tightening of her airway only served to defeat the purpose, adding an element of danger that turned her on further.
Her gown hung in tatters, and he ripped it the rest of the way off, so her bare back was pressed against his bare chest. His muscles seemed to multiply with his own restraint and as he flexed his hips, slowly moving in and out of her, she felt every ridge and stroke.
He kicked at her ankles, trying to spread her legs, and she complied, raising one to the countertop, spreading wide for him. He grunted at her, his grip loosening, the influx of free air like a ray of sunlight to her body. She took it before he squeezed again and started pounding into her.
He got into a rhythm and she went along, her own pleasure rising as he chased his release. With each pounding thrust of his, she felt his balls slap her clit, and while it wasn’t enough to get her there, it gave her ideas.
Her hand snaked down to the cleft between her thighs and started rubbing the bundle of nerves, aiding her along in chasing her own release. She wanted to come again.
His hand left her hip and grabbed her breast. It wasn’t tender and loving. Nope. He gripped it hard, so the flesh spilled out between his fingers, twisting her nipple painfully.
She was back on that edge between pleasure and pain, walking that tightrope. She couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t want to. Dusty just wanted to feel this.
This time, her orgasm came in rolling waves, light at first, as if unable to overcome the previous one and not even going to try. But then the wave came crashing back a little harder.
Theo’s movements increased in intensity, harder, faster, wilder. He gripped her everywhere. Another wave crashed when he gripped her neck a little tighter, tugging her back into him. She smelled him everywhere, felt him everywhere.
And then the final wave crashed and she screamed as her fingers were frantically rubbing her clit, his pelvis slapping against her ass, his massive hand wrapped around her throat while his other hand twisted her tit. She was a shuddering mess and as he came, he curled his body inward, around hers, grunting into her ear in harsh exhalations of hot air.
His arms came around her body and lifted her, carrying her into the bedroom.
What have I done? Theo unceremoniously carried Dusty, who seemed to have passed out, to her bedroom, ignoring the lushness of her abused body under his fingers.
He arranged her on the bed and pulled the covers over her nudity in a belated attempt at decency, then crawled over her to get in on the other side. The full-sized bed was crammed against the wall in the tiny bedroom of her tiny apartment, and he felt the need to fucking cuddle the woman he’d just used.
It had been exquisite. Everythi
ng he’d dreamed sex with her could be. He’d never come so hard in his life, and he wasn’t going to think about that too much. But it was rough, stormy, messy, and wild. Everything Dusty was.
He’d gone too far. He’d taken liberties she wouldn’t have given him if they hadn’t share what they had tonight. He watched her eyelids flicker in the moonlight streaming through the window. She was beautiful. Truly. And he realized he was looking at her for the first time tonight.
For the first time, he wasn’t comparing her. She wasn’t Sunny. She wasn’t some ethereal extension of her sister he’d been in love with. She was her own person, and he’d loved her like he had because of that. As soon as she’d followed him into that warehouse tonight, things had changed.
He closed his eyes and leaned back on the bed, breathing deeply. For once in the last ten years, he was totally relaxed. He inhaled the scent of Dusty in her bedroom, something darkly floral mixed with an earthy incense-y smell. Theo liked it. He allowed the scent to roam across his skin and seep into his pores, just like her.
The sheets shifted and he cracked one eye open to see her body moving under the sheet toward him. He turned his head and saw her head wasn’t on the pillow anymore.
Then her soft little fingers clasped around his cock and her hot little mouth engulfed the head of it, and he straightened his legs, his toes clenching as he reached for her.
Christ.
She swallowed him whole, which wasn’t too hard, because he was trying to catch up and wasn’t fully erect yet. But her scorching mouth around his shaft had him groaning and writhing and when she sucked like a Hoover, he let out a noise that had her giggling around his dick before going back for more.
Burying his fingers in her soft hair, he relished the feel of her and marveled at how he felt it everywhere. Goosebumps were rising on his arms and legs, and warmth was pooling deep in his groin, spreading up to his chest.
He wanted more. She sucked harder, coming up off him with a rake of teeth against the underside that had him muttering curses and gasping for breath.
The Secrets We Keep Page 7