Deception, p.17
Deception, page 17
Appreciate what, prickly princess? Making you come in your little panties and giving your lover boy blue balls in the process?
He rises to his feet, capturing her waist and pulling her to his chest. “Did he hit you again?”
“That was an accident, I think.” She frowns. “It’s other stuff. I just…never mind. You’ve calmed me down, but I really need to get back. I’ll call you later.”
They share another long, passionate kiss until she peels away from him. She runs off, leaving Sully alone with his nine-inch boner. I stand up, ignoring the searing in my bad knee. Slowly, I hobble toward him. He hears the sound of my feet on the mats and whips around to face me.
Shock turns into brief fear and finally into fury.
“What the actual fuck, Scout?” he snarls, shoving my chest. “You were spying on me?”
I reach down, rubbing at my knee, and scowl at him. “She’s my job, too.”
His brown eyes flicker with a multitude of emotions, but the one that’s most prevalent is possessiveness. He doesn’t believe she’s a job like he’s supposed to, and he certainly doesn’t believe she’s mine too.
“What did you do yesterday?” His cold tone cuts straight to the bone. “To Landry?”
“I got a lot further than almost second base.” I smirk at him. “I know what her pussy feels like.”
His jaw clenches. “You fucking raped her?”
“Fuck off,” I growl. “I’m not the only bad guy here. You’re lying to her while you try to get into her pants!”
He shoves me so hard my head hits the mirror wall behind me. Thunk. Glass splinters from the impact and my head throbs from the force of it.
“I should kill you.”
At this, I laugh. “Kill me for fingering her in the bathroom when she fucking begged for it? Come on. Look at yourself. You’re obsessed. She’s the new Ash.”
Sully grabs the front of my shirt, his nose coming inches from mine. Thank fuck his boner is gone or this would be uncomfortable. “Ash was yours. Landry is ours.”
Wrong.
So fucking wrong.
Ash was mine. Landry is mine.
“She’s not yours,” I clip out. “Just like Ivy was never yours.”
“So help me,” Sully bites. “If you fuck our lives up again—”
I shove him away from me. “Stop acting blameless, you fuck. We’re all wired the same way, which is why we always want the same girl.”
“I am not wired like you.”
Before we can unpack that and I can remind him we’re goddamn triplets, a different guy peeks his head around the corner. Unlike the dweeb from earlier, this dude is stacked and could probably take both me and Sully at once.
“I think you two should go,” the guy says, darting his attention back and forth between us. “Haven’t seen you around the building before. If you don’t leave, I’m calling security.”
“We’re leaving,” Sully snaps at the guy. Then, to me, he hisses, “Stay away from her. Deal with your job and we’ll deal with ours.”
I shoot him the bird. “Okay, little brother. Whatever you say.”
He storms off, cursing under his breath. Sully knows better than anyone he can’t tell me what to do.
I do what I want.
I always do what I want.
And right now…I want her.
Landry Croft.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Landry
I screwed up.
Calling Ford and involving him more was a mistake. He’d seen right through my lies. Deduced that my father was the cause of my pain. Again.
But, in my desperate need for comfort and escape, I left Della alone with him. Bile creeps up my throat as I sneak back into our condo. It’s nearly silent, which means he’s no longer on his phone call. Sometimes his calls last for hours, but not this one.
Oh, God.
Rushing to Della’s room, I pray that she’s okay. That he hasn’t hurt her in any way. When I peek in, she’s watching cartoons. She can read some, having picked up on it earlier than most because of her knowledge of ASL, but mostly, she watches her shows when she wants to zone out.
I start to go inside, but Dad’s voice calls to me.
From my room.
Slowly, I turn and walk toward the sound. He’s sitting on my bed when I enter my room. His face doesn’t look any better, and probably won’t for weeks, but he’s showered and shaved what he could.
Shame makes his blue eyes shimmer with pain.
I don’t understand his hurt since he’s the one always inflicting it.
“Sweetheart,” he starts, frowning at me. “I’m…”
Sorry?
You’re always sorry, Dad. Always.
The sorriest dad on the planet.
I want to scream at him. To accuse him of being a disgusting monster, but I don’t. I can’t make the words leave the prison of my mouth. They’re trapped, just like me and Della are in this condo.
“You know I’m sorry,” he rushes out. “You know this isn’t me. That isn’t me.”
Elaborate on that, Dad. What exactly is that?
I may not be able to say the words, but I know my pain and hatred for him can’t be masked. Not right now when my nerves are so raw and I can still feel his mouth on my neck. No amount of kissing Ford could erase it.
“I know you’re disappointed in me.” He swallows hard, lowering his stare. “Let me make it right. You can have anything you want. Just name it.”
Freedom.
It’s on the tip of my tongue.
“I don’t want anything,” I grit out.
I’m not a transaction. He thinks he can erase his wrongdoings with gifts. That the bruises and cuts on my flesh will magically disappear during the exchange. That the emotional torment and abuse I’ve endured will fade with the appearance of a shiny new bracelet.
“Money? A trip? Spa day with your sister?”
He’s reaching now if he’s trying to use Della to get into my good graces.
He stands up, wincing only slightly at the pain in his ribs. Slowly, he prowls toward me. My entire body thrums with the urge to flee. Bravely, or stupidly, I keep my feet rooted and stare up at him with a rare flash of defiance.
“You have exactly thirty seconds to figure it out while I’m in a generous mood,” he bites out, nostrils flaring. “If you can’t come up with something, I’ll have to take Della shopping with me. Maybe I can get it out of her what you want.”
I gasp, like he’s punched me in the stomach, and gape at him. He’s not going anywhere alone with my sister. I don’t trust him not to irrevocably ruin her. At least I’m older and stronger. I can bounce back better than she can. She’s little and fragile and mine to protect.
An idea forms in my head so suddenly, and absolutely perfect, I almost cry in relief.
“A car,” I say, meeting his stare. “A really, really expensive car.”
His brow lifts, clearly amused at my show of bitchiness. I guess it’s better than being angry. “A car, huh?”
“A classic car. Something restored to original perfection,” I continue, letting the idea really transform in my mind. “I don’t know much about cars, but I know the sixties were a good era. I want it black, too.”
Old. Untraceable. An unassuming color. And fast.
In a vehicle like that, I wouldn’t need much of a plan. Just a head start. He wouldn’t be able to track me like he could a new Tesla or Range Rover. We could get out of his crosshairs. Suddenly, I’m overwhelmed by excitement.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Dad says, dipping down to kiss my forehead. “Anything to make you happy.” He steps back, studying me with narrowed eyes. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to call Gareth back. I love you.”
I can’t say the words back. The smile I give him is wobbly and forced but he accepts it. As soon as he’s gone, I lock the door behind him and go into my closet to look for my phone. It’s still shoved under a heap of clothes where I’d left it.
Ford left a few texts, but I need to hear his voice again. To apologize for running out on him when he was only trying to help. He answers immediately. There are voices in the background—people talking and laughing—and it makes me wonder if he’s in our building lobby, though it usually isn’t so busy.
“Laundry.”
My heart does a twist inside my chest. I close my eyes, imagining his dark, maple syrup eyes and his scent that reminds me of spices and the salty sea.
“Hey, Chevy.”
“Everything okay?” He must go someplace a little quieter because the background noise is muted. Maybe he’s in his car now.
“I’m sorry for doing that to you,” I blurt out. “You were only trying to help. It felt good, but…”
“It felt good,” he parrots, his voice carrying a slight, angry edge.
“Great. It felt great,” I assure him so his precious ego won’t take a beating. “I wish I could have made you feel good too. Like that. It’s just…my life is a mess. You’ve come into my life at exactly the wrong time.”
“What every guy wants to hear,” he deadpans.
I smile, imagining him pout. “It was nice to have someone to turn to, though. Even when you’re being all crazy or confusing me, you bring me comfort and make me feel safe.”
“Are you friend-zoning me, Laundry?”
“Ha. Like you’d allow that.”
“You’re beginning to learn what sort of man you’re dealing with.”
Am I though? He’s still such a mystery.
He lets out a deep sigh. “I miss you, babe.”
“You literally just had your hand in my pants.”
“You know what I mean,” he growls, sounding pissed. “I didn’t get enough time with you.”
“I think you’re toxic for me,” I admit in a whisper. “See you Monday.”
We hang up and I go to my pictures to look for the one I saved into a folder called “Files for English Class.” Hidden in another folder called “Citations” is a picture of Ford.
Lazy, arrogant smile.
Dark messy hair.
Hooded maple eyes.
I miss you too, Chevy.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sparrow
The black Mercedes pulls up to the curb, deposits Landry like she’s trash, and then zooms off. She stares after it, a frown marring her pretty face. Goddamn, I like looking at her.
I whistle from the inside of my car. My window is down so I have an unobstructed view of this girl. “Get in, Laundry.”
Her grin is brilliant and wide for me. Dazzling like the sun. I almost have the urge to rip off my sunglasses in order to see every detail, even if it blinds me in the process.
She opens the door and tosses her bag into the backseat. Then, she slides into the passenger seat, closing herself in with me. I roll up the window to give us privacy before leaning over the console to grab hold of her. My hand slides into her silky golden tresses and I tighten my hold on her, drawing her to me.
“Kiss me, babe.”
She smiles wider and then her lips are on mine—eager and desperate. I groan against her mouth. Fuck, she tastes so good. Like vanilla and mine. To drive home that last thought, I nip at her bottom lip. She moans, though it sounds a little pained. Pulling back, I note the small scab on her lip.
My blood fucking boils.
This is a job. This is a job. This is a job.
Try telling my raging heart that.
“I want to kill him,” I tell her, my words dripping with pure honesty. “Fucking kill him.”
“We can’t do this here.” She frowns, no longer smiling. “I missed you, but this is too open.”
I take her hand, threading my fingers with hers and kiss the knuckles before releasing her. “Buckle in, Laundry.”
She squeals when I peel out of the parking lot. I take the turn out of the lot practically on two wheels before gunning it down the straightaway. I smirk at her which, earns me a scowl. So cute.
There’s a building nearby that’s under construction. I’ll hide out there with her for a bit. We pull up and aren’t stopped by anyone. I pull off my sunglasses and toss them on the dash. There are several work trucks parked on the first level, so I make it to the second level before finding a dark spot to tuck my car into away from prying eyes.
Once I shut off the car and we’re bathed in silence, I unbuckle and angle my body toward her. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was being a bitch. She’s giving off icy vibes and is tense as fuck.
But I do know her.
It’s her defense mechanism.
She’s protecting herself.
“Do you know how to delete search history?” she asks, her brows furling.
Strange question.
“I’m sure I could figure it out.” I cock my head to the side and run my finger along her jaw. “Why?”
She swallows hard but leans into my touch. “What about texts? How do I erase their existence? Deleting them won’t be good enough.”
“You’re afraid your dad is going to find out you have a boyfriend?”
Her lip curls up. “You’re not my boyfriend.”
Winking at her, I flash her a smug grin. “Keep telling yourself that. I claimed you first. Don’t forget that.”
Her features darken like she’s in on the secret—which she’s absolutely not. Then, she just lets the comment slide. Sometimes I wish I knew what she was thinking about. Like now.
“He can’t know about what we’ve been doing,” she says with a ragged sigh. “He can’t know about my plans.”
“Plans?”
“Put it this way,” she huffs. “One time, months ago, I researched NYU a little bit. He surprised me with enrolling me in school. Who does that?”
Okay, so yeah, that’s fucking creepy and controlling.
“I’ll call my uncle. If anyone can get information on scrubbing a phone or hiding tracks, it’d be him. You trust me?”
“Yeah, I trust you,” she says with a smile. “Plus, I know your uncle is the mafia daddy or something. His connections are solid.”
“Mouthy brat.”
“You like it.” Her lips curl into something flirty and delicious. I want to taste the sinful smile. “Can I use your phone?”
Her words chill all the heat coursing through me.
“What? Why?”
She looks down at my phone in my cupholder. “The Internet. I need to look something up.”
And chance Sully or Scout texting about her during that moment?
Hell no.
Her hand reaches for it and I grab her wrist.
“Come here,” I demand, tugging her toward me. “I need to hold you.”
I can tell she’s pissed based on the gleam in her eyes, but she allows me to pull her over the console and into my lap. She straddles me, settling herself comfortably between my body and the steering wheel.
Snagging her by her neck, I pull her to me, eager to taste her mouth for the second time today and distract her from using my phone. She moans, the sound needy and raw. I wonder what other sounds I can draw out of her.
“I need to see you,” I murmur against her mouth as I rub my palms under her shirt, caressing her back.
She nods, lifting her arms. I pull her shirt off and then admire her sexy little tits in her pink bra. Leaning forward, I bite one of them over the lace. So fucking hot. She groans, her fingers messing up my hair as she clutches on.
I hook my fingers into the bra straps, pulling them down her arms. She grinds against my cock, seeking the friction we both need.
“When I get you in my bed, babe, I’m going to take my time sucking on every little freckle on your body.” I grab hold of the cups of her bra, jerking them down roughly. “Right now, I don’t have a lot of time.”
She cries out the second I latch my teeth to one of her nipples. I pull back until I know it hurts and then release her so I can dive back in. Tonguing the reddened nipple, I suck and tease away the pain.
She’s no longer seated on my lap but up on her knees, eagerly feeding me her tit, clearly aching for the abuse followed by the sweetness. I take the opportunity to undo her jeans. These quarters are too cramped. I’m not sure how in the hell we’re going to do this, but I’m game to try.
“Fuck,” I groan as I kiss between her breasts. “Why are you so goddamn sweet?”
She laughs. “I thought I was salty.”
“Changed my mind, Dirty Laundry. You’re sweet and it’s going to give me a damn cavity.” I jerk on her jeans, drawing them to her midthighs before they meet resistance from being parted. “Too many clothes, woman. I need you naked.”
Her breath hitches when my fingers tease her pussy. So wet and dripping with sweet need. I’m dying of a thirst only she can quench.
“L-Let me see your eyes,” she breathes.
I angle my head up to look at her as my finger enters her body. She gasps and a tremble quakes through her.
“You like it when I fuck you with my fingers?” I ask, lifting a brow. “Need more?”
“Y-Yes.”
Another finger easily slides inside her. And then a third. If she’s going to take my cock, her cunt needs to be able to take more than three fingers. Slowly, I gently fuck her tight-as-sin hole, stretching her so she’ll accommodate my cock. I’m hung and her probably-virgin pussy needs working up to it.
I suck on her tit, my eyes still on hers. She bites on her split bottom lip, hooded gaze boring into me. My mouth isn’t gentle as I bruise her tits, but I’m careful with her pussy. I want it to feel good for her. I want to make her come before I even get the condom on my dick.
“That’s my girl,” I croon against her wet nipple. “Come all over my fingers.”
With each deep dive of my fingers, I rub my thumb over her clit. Her breaths come out sharp and fast until I don’t think she’s breathing at all.
“Ford!”
Sparrow. I’m Sparrow. Not fucking Ford.
Her slick juices run down over my fingers as her body spasms. She’s so fucking hot coming on my fingers. I can’t even begin to imagine what she’d look like stretched around my cock. She rides out her orgasm until she’s spent and boneless. I slip my fingers from her body. Grabbing onto her hips, I twist her around and press her chest against the steering wheel.
