Vengeance in Bloom (The Love Unauthorized Series Book 2)

by Jennifer Michael

  I devour her. With my mouth. Lips. Tongue. Teeth.

  The blanket beneath her tangles in her limbs while she thrashes below me, but I hold her to me, not giving an inch as I feel her whole body tense.

  “Burke! Burke! Burke!” she continues to scream my name as she rides out her high.

  Her arousal drips from my tongue, and I savor every last morsel of her sweet flavor. Her legs tremble, and the muscles of her ass clench against my hands while she spasms.

  Paisley goes slack in my grasp after she calms, and I pull away from her to lick my lips. I’ll be able to taste her for the rest of the night, exactly how I want it. She watches me with hooded eyes, her breathing frantic. I rise up on my knees and tear off my shirt and then the rest of my clothes. I need her. I lower myself back to the ground and cover Paisley’s tiny frame with my own. My fingers link through hers, and I bring her arms up over her head. My body rubs against her while I steal a kiss. It’s slow and messy. Our tongues tangle obscenely. I drive my tongue inside and slowly fuck her mouth while my body moves against her. She moans, and I can practically taste her satisfaction. I’ve missed this.

  With my free hand, I slide the head of my cock along her folds, teasing her. Through our kiss, she lets out a frustrated huff and then raises her hips. Message received. I line myself up, getting ready to enter her. I know she wants me, but still, I make her wait and push in as slowly as my own patience will allow. When I’m fully seated, I still and enjoy the feeling of her around me.

  I pull back and look into Paisley’s eyes while I move. Our heavy breaths fan each other’s faces as I torture us both with a deliberate, easy rhythm. In and out. Slow and steady. Every stroke is a vibrant sensation. I crave every torturous motion. I’m looking down at her beautiful face while she brings me the most pleasure I’ve ever felt. Her bottom lip is between her teeth. Her skin flushes, and her excitement deepens. Her feelings for me shine through. Fear, lust, and apology are all written on her face while I move in and out of her.

  I kiss her forehead before increasing my pace. She feels too good, and I’m getting close. There is no way in hell I’m finishing before her though. I move my hand down between our bodies and use my thumb to trace small circles over her clit. She shamelessly grinds against my hand. I love how she’s not afraid to take what she wants from me when we’re together. She moves against me, thrust for thrust, and waves slap against the shore while we lose ourselves in one another. Then, her cunt is vibrating and squeezing and pulsing around me. I lose my battle and press deep with my own release. My strokes slow, and we come down from the high. I prolong every ounce of pleasure I can while I slide in and out.

  Paisley lets out a throaty giggle as her whole body relaxes beneath mine.

  “Jesus. Christ. That was amazing. Otherworldly.”

  I smile down at her while she voices her praise before I slowly slide out of her. My come spills out, and I can’t help but be mesmerized by the sight. I’ve never felt more possessive than I do when seeing my come all over her pussy. The sight is addicting, and I’ll always want more of her.

  I did it. I have Paisley back and not just her silently living in my home. Whether she knows it or not, she’s mine, and I’m hers.

  I’d say this night was a success.

  Paisley

  I expected the morning to bring fear and doubt about being with Burke. But I’m halfway through my first cup of coffee, and those feelings still haven’t risen. Last night was like nothing I’d ever experienced. I thought, when the rose-colored smog disappeared and I came down from the high, I’d freak. I was expecting the worst while hoping for the best. I regret nothing about my time on the beach with the man I stupidly think I might love. He’s dangerous and unpredictable, but I can’t help the way my emotions rage for him.

  However, my anxiety is growing with each second I sit at the kitchen table. I left Burke still asleep in his bed this morning. My nerves have nothing to do with Burke though. They are about speaking my newfound truths aloud. We came home last night and spent the better part of the night and until the early hours of the morning reconnecting. Again and again and again. I didn’t deserve that many orgasms after the way I locked him out, but I enjoy every ache my satisfied body feels. I crave every physical reminder of our reconnection.

  I sit and wait for the rest of the house to wake. I have information to share with them. Information I haven’t yet processed myself, and I just don’t know how to say it. My birth certificate is abnormal. It wasn’t issued at birth. Key information has been left blank. Where the fuck did I come from before I was put into foster care? That’s the million-dollar question. Could the answer really have something to do with what’s going on?

  I’m just sitting down after refilling my coffee when Burke tugs on the end of my ponytail.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” he whispers just before giving me a quick kiss on the lips. “I missed waking up to you in my bed this morning.”

  “You looked peaceful. I didn’t want to wake you. Will Kai be up soon?”

  “I don’t know. Why? What’s up?”

  I’d like to tell them together, but I’ll need to leave for work within an hour or so.

  “How quick does the investigator work? How good is this guy?”

  “I’ve been told he’s the best. What’s going on? Did something happen at his office yesterday?”

  Am I ready for whatever he finds? My brows crease as I worry. Braelyn would tell me worrying would give me wrinkles and to stop it already.

  “Paisley . . .”

  That girl could freakishly control her emotions, except when it came to anger, and for just the briefest of moments, I wish I were just a bit more like her. I don’t think I once saw her cry or worry. While we lived in that foster home and while we struggled to survive on the street, her face always remained stoic with anything that came our way. Her detached personality should’ve been a warning sign to me, but it was yet another thing I didn’t catch on to. I wonder where she is.

  “Paisley?”

  I snap out of it when Burke’s warm hands touch my bare shoulders.

  “Sorry. What?”

  Burke’s face tenses. His lips form a hard line, and his eyebrows pull together. His eyes narrow while assessing me. “What’s going on? Did something happen at your meeting with the PI?”

  He studies me while he waits for my answer. When Burke gives me his full attention, it makes my thought process go haywire.

  I look into my coffee cup like the words I need will be floating around in it. No such luck. “I found out some information at the investigator’s office yesterday. I didn’t tell you before because I wanted some time to process, and I didn’t want to ruin our night last night. We should probably wait for Kai.”

  “Wait on Kai for what? Glad you two are done ignoring each other. About fucking time,” Kai says as he bursts into the kitchen, looking sweaty. He is shirtless and has headphones dangling around his neck. He must’ve been up this whole time, hiding away in the gym.

  I clear my throat before answering, “Sit. We’ll talk. I have some information to share with the both of you from my visit at the private investigator’s office yesterday.”

  Kai rolls his eyes while he moves about the kitchen. “Great, more information that’ll probably bring more questions than answers. Let me get something to drink first.”

  When both of them are seated, I pull my feet up onto the chair I’m sitting on and try to make myself comfortable. I take a deep breath. I’ll start with the easy news first. “The police finished their investigation at the farmhouse. They weren’t able to identify the body, but they’re not coming after me for his death.”

  “That’s good. Teagan’s statements cleared my name, and yours is clear, too. This means we’re taken off the suspect list from anything that happened from the abduction. But this isn’t the news you are nervous to tell us.” Kai voices his thoughts.

  “J. Spencer found my birth certificate, but there’s a prob—”
/>   “There’s a problem. There is always a problem,” Kai finishes.

  Burke bursts out with angry words. “Would you shut the fuck up and show some sensitivity? We’re not talking about some abstract clues here. We’re talking about Paisley’s past. Her biological family. Where she came from. Shut the fuck up, and listen to what she has to say. You can comment when you have something useful to add.”

  Kai looks sheepish, so I clear my throat and wave away his comment. “It’s okay. I’m still feeling pretty detached from the emotions of the situation. It’s hard to know what to feel when I don’t have all the answers yet.”

  I’m uncomfortable with all the attention. Two sets of eyes are watching my every move, looking for answers. For distress.

  I reach into my pocket, pull out the folded copy of my birth certificate, and then slide it toward Burke. “Anyway, here it is. The issue date is five years after I was born, and most of the information was left blank. It doesn’t tell us much of anything, except that there’s something weird going on. I’ve been racking my brain, trying to fill in the holes. I can’t come up with much, except maybe I wasn’t born in America. But then how did I end up in foster care in Florida? None of it makes any sense. He says he’s going to keep looking. He’s also going to call you today to fill you in himself.”

  “Maybe you’re an alien.”

  “Be serious, Kai,” Burke demands.

  “What? It’s not like we have any good working theories. Her being an alien is probably closer to anything else we can come up with.”

  “What if Paisley’s birth parents have something to do with what’s happening now?” Burke throws out a more rational explanation, but at the same time, it’s more terrifying. “If information was left blank on her birth certificate, it’s likely it was left that way for a reason. Someone doesn’t want Paisley to know where she came from. But why?”

  I listen to them go back and forth.

  “That doesn’t make any sense. Paisley had no interest in finding her parents, or at least wasn’t looking, until she met us. If that theory were true, all they are doing is pushing her to find information she wasn’t looking into before this. Besides, how does Paisley and where she came from have anything to do with my worthless father? He’s tied up into this somehow, so where do the dots between my history and hers connect?”

  “Isn’t that the million-dollar question?” Burke points out.

  It is, but I have officially run out of time, so I turn to Burke. “Drive me to work and play stalker? It’ll be like old times.” I try to force the laughter into my voice while I tease him, trying to take the edge off this whole situation.

  “Come on. Let’s go.”

  Burke takes a seat in the corner of the diner and pulls out his computer. Who knows what he’s up to? I don’t ask questions because I’d rather have him occupied than making my insides clench from watching my every move. It’s been slow today with only a few tables coming in for breakfast, but I keep Burke’s coffee full. When they send the other server home, I spend some time cleaning and restocking for the next shift, just to keep busy.

  My last table is close to cashing out when Burke’s phone rings. He glances at me and then motions to the door, letting me know he’s going out front. I stare at him for a minute through the glass front and admire everything about him. His commanding posture. His intense facial features as he obviously seethes at whoever he’s speaking to. The way his hand grips the back of his neck in an angry gesture. If possible, his displeasure only makes him hotter. I think there’s something wrong with me.

  I sigh before getting back to work, bussing the last few plates off the table and heading back to the dish pit. The moment I step through the swinging door to the kitchen, a hand pulls me back while covering my mouth. The dishes in my hand crash to the floor and I’m dragged back into the dry food storage area.

  No. This can’t be happening again. There’s no way.

  I fight. I fight like hell not to become a victim again. My elbow connects with the person’s ribs. The smell of body odor and cheap perfume is overwhelming. It takes over my senses until I’m dizzy. My hands ball into fists, and I swing with purpose. It’s only then that I realize the person holding me is a woman—mainly because, when my fist makes contact, she squeaks in pain. I’m whipped around, and it takes me a little more than a second, but I recognize her.

  She looks terrible. The once-red hair is now midnight black. Sometime between the last time I saw her and now, she also hacked it into a short, jagged bob. Her clothes are baggy and definitely not designer. Dirt is caked under her nails, and the putrid smell surrounding me is coming from her. Braelyn stands before me like I’ve never seen her before, not even when we were homeless. Her hand still covers my mouth while I stare into eyes that seem to have died. The light, good or bad, has dimmed to nonexistent.

  “I’m not here to hurt you. Please, hear me out. I need your help. Please, Paisley. I’m your sister. Please. Please help me. I’ll end up dead if you don’t. He wants me dead. Please help me,” she begs with tears in her eyes.

  Through all the years I have known her, never once have I heard this tone from her, not even when she was pulling a con. She’s well and truly scared and frantic. I move to speak but stop myself. There is no way that whatever is all over her hand is getting into my mouth.

  “I’m going to release my hand. Don’t scream. I won’t hurt you. I know Burke’s outside, and I have no idea who else is also watching us. I’ve worked very hard to go unseen. Don’t ruin that. Hear me out. I need you, Lee-Lee.”

  Braelyn’s old pet name for me leaving her lips after everything she’s done makes my stomach roll once more. She finally drops her hand and puts some distance between us. I take a cleansing deep breath to try to free myself from her stench.

  Crunch.

  My fist makes direct contact with her nose, and the sound is sickly satisfying. Her head whips back, and she throws her arms up to protect herself. Hitting her felt good. It felt great. She cries but doesn’t make a move to retaliate. I can’t help myself. I rear back and punch her once more.

  Crack.

  My knuckle splits, and blood splatters onto her face. I’m mad. Fuck that. I’m pissed. What the hell is she doing here, and does she really think I’ll help her? I won’t, but the part of me that used to love her is a little scared to find out what Burke would do with her if he knew she was here. I’m not the heartless bitch she turned out to be. So, even in my anger, I play by her rules and keep my voice level while I respond to her, so Burke isn’t alarmed to her presence.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Braelyn? You fucking left me there! You let them take me to that house and lock me in that room. You let them beat Teagan, and now, you want me to believe you’re here for my help? You’re damn sure certifiable. Get out of here before Burke finds you. I won’t go to bat for you against him. I won’t.”

  “You were never supposed to be involved in all this. I tried to warn you. Over and over again. I obsessively told you to stay away from Burke, but you wouldn’t listen. If you had kept your distance from him, you never would’ve been involved. I wouldn’t have had to choose between you and the deal I made with him. You wouldn’t listen. This isn’t my fault.”

  I thought I was pissed before. I could move mountains with the level of anger rising within me this very second. Does she really believe the asinine things she’s spouting?

  “It wasn’t your fault? You didn’t come visit me in a locked room and gloat? You didn’t leave me there and go to the airport to hold Burke at gunpoint? How could you even think this wasn’t your fault? We grew up together. We faced the world around us together. Then, you sacrificed me when I was in the way of your payday. From the looks of you, a payday you didn’t even receive. So, was it all worth it? Did you get everything you’d ever wanted?”

  I heave in a deep breath, and when she opens her mouth to say something else, I hold my hand up and step closer. “I should’ve seen this coming. That was
where my mistake was. Your strange behavior. The sudden influx of money. The brand-new car suddenly appearing outside our apartment.” I turn, take two steps away from her, and then turn back, glaring at her, as I throw my arms up. “There were so many clues, and I fucking missed them all. Because I trusted you. Because I thought you would never turn your back on me. I’m sorry, Braelyn, but I can’t help you. I won’t help you. You burned your bridge with me. Burned it until there was completely nothing fucking left.”

  Braelyn’s body jerks. At first, I think she’s going to strike me, but it’s just a nervous tic. She’s jumpy and more than a little paranoid. Her vision never stays on me long. Her eyes dart around the room.

  “He’ll kill me, Paisley. If he finds me, I’m dead.”

  Our conversation ends abruptly. Specifically, when a large frame comes barreling into the small storage space. Braelyn yelps and backs away. My first thought is that Burke has come looking for me, but it isn’t him. It’s the creepy guy who sits and drinks coffee for hours. Is this the man Braelyn is terrified of? He hasn’t glanced at me once, and Braelyn is now curled into a protective ball in a corner, so I can assume it is. I thought he was watching me, but maybe he was waiting for her to turn up. Not that it matters right now. He has Braelyn on the floor and is pulling her hands behind her back, and I have no idea what I should do.

  Should I help her?

  Should I run?

  I do the only thing that seems reasonable at a time like this. I scream bloody murder. I scream until my lungs hurt, and I’m sure I’m red in the face. I scream incoherent nonsense so loudly, my throat burns. I scream for Burke and hope he’ll hear me. He has to hear me. There’s no way he can’t hear the raving lunatic screaming at the top of her lungs.