Memoirs of a Garroter (Nevermore Bookshop Mysteries Book 4)

by Steffanie Holmes

  “Can you tell us the answer to the Homeric Question? Because I know an awful lot of scholars who’d pay good money for that question—”

  The bell tinkled again. Heathcliff rose to his feet, his face thunderous. I shot out an arm but a familiar voice stopped me cold.

  “Yoo-hoo, Mina!” Mum called. “I brought over some Champagne to celebrate. You won’t believe it – tomorrow, I get the keys to my brand new Mercedes!”

  Chapter Twenty

  “Shite, it’s Mum!” I hissed. Any second now, she was going to walk in here and see a very young and mostly naked Grimalkin luxuriating on top of our display table. I leaped to my feet and made a shooing motion. “Get off. You need to hide.”

  “Why?” Grimalkin glowered at me as she gestured to her languid form. “I’m not Schrodinger’s pet. You can’t put all of this back in the box.”

  “Just get under the table, or I’ll—”

  “I’m going to pick it up at the dealer tomorrow, and I’m having a party to celebrate—” Mum stopped short as she entered the room and saw the naked Grimalkin draped over the table. “Mina, what’s going on? Who is this woman?”

  “Um, right… yes, well…”

  How can I possibly explain this?

  Quoth grabbed a journal and pencil from Heathcliff’s desk. I noticed he’d managed to shrug a throw rug over his shoulders like a shirt, and he crouched down behind the desk so Mum wouldn’t get an eyefull of… of all of him. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Wilde. This is a life drawing session. I’m trying to get into art school, and I need more figure experience for my portfolio. Miss, ah…”

  “Grimalkin. Miss Cat Grimalkin,” she said pointedly.

  “Right… Miss Grimalkin offered to pose for me. She does this sort of thing for a living.” He managed to look both charming and sheepish. “It’s not anything dodgy, I swear.”

  Great thinking, Quoth!

  Mum wrinkled her nose. “Why are you having this drawing session in the middle of the shop, wearing what looks like a blanket, and why are my daughter and her boyfriend and that gypsy watching it?”

  I’d tried to explain to Mum several times that she shouldn’t use the word gypsy, but these things usually went in one ear and out the other, especially when she was throwing herself into another of her schemes. Right now, I just needed her to believe Quoth’s story.

  “We’re … er, trialing it. For the shop!” I exclaimed. “Yes, that’s it. We think local artists might want to run a regular life drawing class here. We were just seeing if the… er… lighting is bright enough.”

  “What do you think?” Grimalkin stretched one long leg over her head, giving us all a full view of… well, of everything. “Is my skin luminescent? Is my pose pleasing? Have I earned a saucer of cream?”

  “A what?” Mum frowned at the woman.

  “Yes, sure! I think you’ll do nicely. Thanks, Cat. You can go get dressed now.” I gave Grimalkin a pointed look. After far too many tense moments, she slid off the table and simpered past Mum, heading for the staircase. As she passed under the door, she tipped her chin at Mum.

  “The face that launched a thousand ships looks more like the barnacled belly of a trireme now.”

  “Huh?” Mum looked confused. “What did she say?”

  “Nothing.” I glared at Grimalkin, who flashed me an evil smile and flounced upstairs. “Don’t worry about it. She’s an artist. They’re very temperamental. So, what’s the story about this Mercedes?”

  “I’ve reached the Prosperity tier in my new business. The company is rewarding me for all my hard work with a brand new car! A Mercedes! Can you believe it?” Mum clasped her hands together, her face bursting with excitement. “Things are finally looking up for me, darling. I’ve found my calling. I’m creating the life I deserve.”

  Something crinkled against her skin. I grabbed the corner of her sleeve and rolled it up, exposing a row of shiny Flourish patches dotted all the way from her wrist to her shoulder.

  “I thought you only had to wear one of these to receive the benefits of its amazing transdermal technology?” I said wryly.

  Mum yanked her sleeve down, glowering at me. “Yes, well, that’s what it says, but I want to accelerate results. I want to embody the Flourish values of Grow. Nourish. Live. The technology really is miraculous. I feel so invigorated, so alive. I can sense my metabolism working faster, burning away the fat.”

  I eyed Mum’s stomach, which wobbled a little as she drew away. It honestly looked as if she’d gained weight. Which was totally fine, unless you were lying to people in order to convince them to buy silver patches to stick on their arms. “Just how much weight have you lost with these patches?”

  “Oh, who’s really counting!” Mum flicked her wrist dismissively. A patch peeled off the back of her hand and fluttered to the floor. “The whole point is that I’m flourishing. I’m living my truth and changing people’s lives for the better. And I’m working with a company who supports me and rewards success. So will you come to my Mercedes party?”

  “But how have you sold enough patches to afford a car like that? You’ve been in business for less than a month!”

  “I’m just that brilliant.” Mum grinned. “And I didn’t even have to buy the car. I’m leasing it, and the company is giving me a monthly cash bonus to pay the lease. As long as I continue to keep my status, I’ll never have to make a single payment on the car. Isn’t that incredible? I got a free car!”

  “What?” Of all the things I’d heard so far today, this was by far the most ludicrous. “Mum, that’s not a free car. That’s not a gift. It’s a fucking trap to keep you buying thousands of those stupid patches every month. This is that smoothie company all over again, and the wobbleators, and what about those high-end baby accessories—”

  Mum huffed. “I’d appreciate it if you could be a bit more supportive.”

  “Yeah, Mina.” Morrie stepped up and placed his arm around Mum’s shoulders, beaming at her. He flashed me his devil-may-care grin. “Your mother has achieved something remarkable. We should be supporting her, instead of cutting her down.”

  “See? Morrie respects my dreams. He knows a fellow entrepreneur, a kindred business owner who isn’t afraid to take a chance on a revolutionary product—”

  “I sure do, Mrs. Wilde.” Morrie held out his box. “Cronut?”

  “No thank you. With all these healthy nutrients entering my bloodstream, I have no need for processed sugar and gluten…” Mum hesitated for only a moment. “Oh, go on, just one. These patches have been working so well. I’ve hardly eaten a thing in three days. So one wee cronut won’t make a difference. In fact, I can barely taste it! Actually… I’d better have another, just in case. I don’t want to completely waste away. Everything in moderation, they say.”

  “Please, have as many as you like.” Morrie grinned.

  “You’re a treasure, Morrie. Will you please convince my daughter to come along tomorrow night? It’s going to be fabulous. I’ve rented the community hall, and I’ve got a DJ coming, and Richard’s sourced me some lovely Champagne. Of course, my new car will be parked right out the front. Flourish have gifted me five hundred quid’s worth of product to give away, and all the healthful smoothies we can drink!”

  Oh no, not more smoothies. I sighed. “Of course I’ll be there. We’ll all come along.”

  Mum reached over and cupped Morrie’s hands, then mine. “Oh, thank you. I think you’ll have an amazing time. And maybe once you see my car, you’ll rethink this bookshop lark and consider becoming part of my downline. The commission really is generous, and there are so many opportunities to—”

  “Is that the time?” Morrie glanced at his phone. He let out a giant yawn. “Helen, I’m so sorry to rush off, but I’ve spent the night up in London and I had to get up at the crack of dawn to buy cronuts before I caught my train. I’m positively shattered. I need to get off to bed. But I’ll see you ladies tomorrow night.”

  Morrie bent down to kiss my cheek. “Don’t r
un off now,” he whispered. His breath against my cheek sent a jolt of heat through my body. Morrie pulled away with a languid smile and disappeared up the staircase. Mum stared after him as if the power of her gaze could force him to run back and beg for my hand in marriage.

  Mum sighed. “He really is amazing. You’re so lucky, Mina.”

  Behind her, Heathcliff harrumphed.

  “Yes, I am. Actually, I’m really sleepy as well.” I did my best fake yawn.

  “But it’s only just after nine!” Mum pouted. “I thought we could go out for breakfast to celebrate.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve got some important things to do this morning. We’ll see you tomorrow, though.”

  “I’ll be the one in the brand new Mercedes.” Mum beamed as I shuffled her out the door. As soon as she was outside, I slammed the door shut, drew the bolt across, and glared up at Morrie, who was hiding on the top landing, stifling a laugh.

  “Why did you do that?” I yelled. “You’re just encouraging her. This isn’t funny. It’s a complete disaster. Mum can’t afford payments on that car—”

  “Relax, gorgeous.” Morrie was down the stairs in a flash. He spun me around and pressed my back against the shelves. One hand circled my wrist, pinning it above my head. His face hardened with lust as his icicle eyes swept over my body. “I did it because once you get going with Helen, you’ll be at it all night trying to convince her to give up her latest business opportunity. I have other plans for you.”

  “Oh, you do?” I meant it to sound incredulous, but the words came out breathy. Morrie’s grapefruit and vanilla scent washed over me, obliterating all my senses.

  “I do.” Morrie touched his tongue to his bottom lip, his eyes wild with hunger. “I’ve had designs on this body of yours for days now, but you’ve been too busy with organized events and chasing murderers and worrying about your father, and I had this stupid trip to take. When is it time for Morrie to defile you? When will a jolly good dicking fit into your busy schedule?”

  “Defile me?” I grinned, even as the words sent a delicious shiver down my spine. “I’m not some virgin sacrifice.”

  “Oh, I know that.” Morrie skimmed my cheek with his lips, laying a trail of featherlight kisses against my skin.

  “It’s not my fault you went to London,” I added, gasping as he rubbed my nipple through my shirt. It was already hard. His touch sent a warm shiver through my chest that rocketed straight between my legs.

  “It’s not.” Morrie’s lips brushed my earlobe. “But the long, lonesome train ride gave me the opportunity to imagine all the filthy things I want to do to you. That we want to do to you.”

  “We?”

  I glanced over Morrie’s shoulder. Heathcliff and Quoth stood in the doorway. Quoth held up his phone, showing a stream of messages between the two of them. Snatches of words caught my attention… “lick her all over until she screams…” “…you could go down on her while I…” “…two of us inside her at the same time…”

  My heart raced so hard I thought I was having a cardiac arrest. But no, it was just the thought of the three of them planning what they wanted to do with me, how they wanted to make me scream…

  “He may be an arsehole, but he’s very imaginative,” Heathcliff added.

  “You’ve been texting?” I glared at Heathcliff in shock. “Or was Quoth reading these to you? I just need to know how—”

  In response, Heathcliff swept into the hallway, grabbed my cheek and forced my mouth against his. His kiss stole any chance I had at finding out more about their plans.

  Ingrid Bergman once said that a kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words were superfluous. That was how Heathcliff kissed, as though he had things he needed to say, a desperate compulsion deep within him that couldn’t be expressed any other way. His lips never failed to draw me down into that compulsion, until the exchange between our bodies was its own kind of language, rich and lyrical and laced with wild, unquenchable heat.

  “Upstairs,” Morrie commanded in a tight voice. “All of you. Now.”

  Heathcliff swept me up into his arms, never breaking the kiss. He lifted me up the staircase, navigating around the low ceilings and rickety bookshelves with ease. Quoth hurried to flip over the CLOSED sign. Morrie followed behind Heathcliff, and the strain on his face as he watched us was almost unbearable. I’d never seen Morrie this desperate. It was exhilarating. It was a huge fucking turn-on.

  I do this to him. I make him lose control.

  We crashed through the door and into the upstairs flat. Heathcliff set me down on the living room floor. Immediately, Morrie was on me, his lips claiming mine as his hands roamed all over my body. “Heathcliff, stoke the fire,” Morrie commanded in his sternest voice.

  Oooh, Heathcliff’s not going to like that.

  “You do it,” Heathcliff growled, his lips raising the hairs on the back of my neck as he kissed a trail across my shoulders. “I’m busy.”

  Tension crackled between them, searing my skin as it caught me in the middle. Mmmmm, what a delicious place to be. The two of them could use my body as a battleground any time they liked if it felt this good.

  “I’ll do it,” Quoth – ever the peacemaker – moved across the room. I lost myself as Heathcliff and Morrie kissed and licked and wrestled me between them, their bodies and tongues hot against mine. Heathcliff dragged my shirt over my head. Morrie cupped my breast, squeezing the nipple through the fabric of my bra. Heathcliff’s hardness jammed into my thigh as he popped the clasp on my belt, hooking his fingers into the waistband of my jeans and yanking them past my thighs.

  “Well, so much for spending a quiet evening in front of the fire.”

  Grimalkin. Shite. I’d completely forgotten about the cat-turned-grandmother. Our heads all snapped up, but the guys didn’t let go of me. Grimalkin peered at us from Heathcliff’s chair, an amused expression on her slender features.

  “Don’t worry about me. I come from the time of Bacchanalian rituals. Nothing about your amorous entanglement disturbs me except for its proximity to my own leisure activities.” She set down a bottle of wine and stood up, uncrossing her long legs to reveal a full-length black maxi dress of mine she must’ve found on Morrie’s floor somewhere. Bugger, I liked that dress, and now I can’t wear it again. “I’m a creature of the night, and there are so many fantasies I’ve harbored while stuck in that feline body that I desire to have fulfilled. I shall go out and fulfill them. Do not expect me to return for at least three days.” With that, she tossed her hair over her shoulder, grabbed a coat from the rack on the wall, and stalked out.

  “She stole my favorite jacket,” Morrie said.

  “I don’t care,” Heathcliff growled, mashing his lips against mine. Just like that, Grimalkin was forgotten.

  The warmth of the fire drew us closer. Heathcliff shoved me forward, heading for a wall. As much as I loved it when he was forceful and swept up in his emotions, I wanted to be in charge this time. I wanted to watch him squirm.

  I placed my palms on Heathcliff’s shoulders and shoved. It was like shoving a brick wall, but I managed to do it. He stumbled on the edge of the coffee table and collapsed into his chair.

  “Exactly where I want you,” I said, straddling him, grinding my hips against his crotch. A growl escaped his throat, low and rough like an animal. It rumbled through my chest, dragging up some deep, primal part of me. My lips sought his as my fingers popped the buttons and unzipped his crotch. I reached inside his boxers and drew out his length, wrapping my fingers around his hard shaft.

  Heathcliff’s eyes bore into mine, his jaw set. He looked like he was fighting for control. I bent down and took his tip in my mouth.

  His muscles tensed, then relaxed. He exhaled a ragged breath. I pushed myself up on my knees and took him deeper, wrapping my tongue around his shaft. He tasted so good – heady and masculine and with a hint of his peaty scent. My wild man. My Heathcliff.

  His whole body tensed again as I slid
his shaft out of my mouth, then took him in again. This time I went deeper, pushing him right back into my throat. He was so long that even when my gag reflex kicked in, I couldn’t take all of him. I wrapped my hand around his shaft and pumped him as I circled my tongue around his tip.

  Heathcliff’s fingers tangled in my hair. Another hand slid up my thigh. Morrie. Of course, it was Morrie. “You’re ruining my carefully-laid plans, gorgeous,” he whispered against my ear. “I fucking love it.”

  Morrie’s teeth bit into my earlobe as he rubbed the head of his cock against my opening, teasing me. We’d all had STI tests when we got back from Baddesley Hall, so we didn’t need condoms any longer. The ache inside me begged for more, and I arched my back, rubbing my ass against Morrie’s thighs. Morrie trailed his fingers down my back as he pushed his tip in, giving me a little at a time until I was squirming with anticipation. With a sigh, he sank himself inside, touching every secret part of me. I moaned against Heathcliff’s cock as the two of them filled me completely.

  My mouth around one, another buried inside This is glorious. But I need one more.

  I searched the room for my third boyfriend but it was so dark, the shaft of light from the fire the only light. I gestured to him with my free hand. In a moment, Quoth emerged from the gloom. He twisted his fingers in my hair, kissing a line down my neck and across my shoulder, making the tiny hairs on my skin stand right on end.

  I clamped a hand around Quoth’s arm and dragged him closer. My hand circled his cock and I pumped him to the same rhythm as I did Heathcliff. My eyes darted between the two of them as the flickering firelight danced across their faces. My soft-artist, my tortured anti-hero. So different, and yet, so perfect. So mine.

  With every thrust, Morrie shoved Heathcliff’s cock deeper down my throat. It was almost as if he was fucking Heathcliff through me. I could feel the tension stretching between them, as they tossed my body between them. Two forces of nature – one wild and uncontained, the other controlled and careful - battling for supremacy.