Deception, p.26
Deception, page 26
I douse the papery-thin walls and shitty threadbare carpet. Any piles of trash I come across, I make sure to dump kerosene on those, too. The stairs going up are rickety and made of old wood that sags in places. I’m dumping some kerosene on the lower steps when I get the eerie feeling of being watched.
Halting my movements, I crane my neck and listen. No sounds within the building that I can hear. I wait for a moment, but the feeling won’t leave me.
I tug my hood down lower, just in case, and then make my way back to the door. Dumping the rest of the kerosene, I then toss the jug back into the room that now reeks of gaseous fumes, which I must say is a step up from the mildew and piss. I’m basically doing this guy a favor, gutting the building for him.
You’re welcome, man.
The hairs on my neck bristle with awareness. A cursory glance onto the street behind me reveals nothing. I still feel like I’m being watched, though.
If they’re inside, they’re going to quickly want to get out, that’s for damn sure.
Pulling out a box of matches, I strike one against the side of the box. The flame burns hot and bright as I stand in the threshold of the building. It’s strange that a tiny flicker of heat can turn into a monstrous inferno.
Kind of like Landry.
A tiny strike and now she blazes inside me.
I flick the matchstick into the room. It hits kerosene-drenched carpet and briefly turns a captivating blue before it spreads in a flash, transforming into beautiful shades of oranges, yellows, and reds.
Waves of heat pulse toward me, reaching to just where I’m standing on a slab of concrete, in an area not touched by gasoline. The force knocks my hood back and I can feel my eyebrows singeing.
I yank my hood back up, hike my bag higher on my shoulder, and take off running in the opposite direction of my car. It’ll mean going around the entire city block, but if anyone is watching me, I’ll throw them off my trail.
I’m not chancing anyone following me back to Landry.
No fucking way.
Chapter Seven
Sparrow
After breakfast, Sully takes Della to the office in our apartment to work on her speechreading. The kid threw quite a tantrum, but Landry held firm, stating it was necessary to keep her life as normal as possible, “even in captivity.”
She’s not exactly a prisoner.
Sure, she’s not allowed to leave us, but it’s for her own good. If she goes out there, her dad will find her. It’s only a matter of time. At least here, the both of them are safe, fed, and sheltered.
Landry cleans the kitchen and I watch her. I’m not sure why she’s cleaning, since she hates us and all, but I think she just needs to do something to keep from losing her mind. When I can’t take it anymore, I crowd her from behind, pinning her body against the sink with mine.
“Can we talk?”
She tenses and shakes her head. “All that comes out of your mouth is lies. Kind of a boring conversationalist.”
The icy bitch I first met is back. And dammit, my dick is hard. Even when she acts like this, I want her. Badly.
“I have no reason to lie anymore,” I grit out, burying my nose in her hair. “I just want to talk to you.”
“Your dick says otherwise.”
Rocking my hips against her, I grind my erection into her lower back. “My dick’s not in charge here.”
“Neither are you.”
The challenge in her tone sends currents of desire rushing through my veins. I want to remind her she’s our captive—even if she is a spoiled one—and I can do whatever I please.
Fuck, I’d sound like Scout if I told her that.
But she’s being unreasonable. I’m not looking to fuck. Just talk.
“You may not want to talk, but honestly, I don’t care. You need to. You’re feeling alienated and alone,” I growl, sliding my palms under her shirt, seeking out her delicate flesh. “If you don’t come willingly, I’ll just make you.”
“You’d like that.” She struggles to get out of my hold, but I’m stronger. “Holding me down. Is that the kink you’re into?”
“Do you want to find out?”
Her gasp is telling—partly shocked but also curious. Going with my gut, I tighten an arm around her and tug. She puts up a mild fight that I easily manage to overcome. Every hateful curse she slings my way does nothing but make my dick even harder. I haul her into my room, close the door, and lock it.
“Now sit down on the bed and behave,” I grind out. “So we can discuss this beef you have with me specifically. You practically crawled into Scout’s arms and he’s the one responsible for getting you here.”
She scoffs, clearly appalled by my words. “I didn’t crawl into his arms. And the reason I’m so pissed at you is because you let it happen!”
Tears flood her eyes but they don’t fall. She’s more angry than sad, so trying to console her right now might earn me a punch to the junk.
“I was in shock, Laundry, but then I tried to get to you,” I say quickly, grabbing her hands. “I’m sorry, okay?”
Her head bows and she refuses to look at me. “I thought it meant something.”
“It did,” I assure her, squeezing her hands.
“No, it didn’t, Sparrow. When we had sex, I thought you were someone else.” Her bottom lip trembles. I want to kiss it so fucking badly. “I’ve been duped. I’m disgusted. At you and your brothers. At myself.”
I release her hands to yank off my T-shirt. This earns her attention. She skims her gaze over my muscular chest as though she’s searching for something.
“Your tattoos are different,” she murmurs, gesturing to the inked art on my ribs. “What does that mean?”
Lifting my arm, I look down at the three jagged lines on my rib cage that appear to drip with blood and are surrounded by feathers. “It’s meant to look like stab wounds.” I point to the one on top. “One for Mom, one for Sully, and one for Scout. The feathers are me.”
“They hurt you?”
“They’re the only ones who can hurt me. Everyone else is irrelevant.” Except you. I want to say that to her but now doesn’t exactly feel like the right time.
“Why are you showing me your tattoos?” she demands, lifting her chin. “I don’t care.”
“I’m showing you me. The real Sparrow. Before we fuck. So you’ll know it really does mean something.”
“We’re not fucking.” She bares her teeth at me. “Touch me and I’ll claw your eyeballs out.”
I smirk at her. “You know I like it when you’re feisty.”
Her eyes drop to my hands as I unbutton my jeans. She sucks in a sharp breath when the zipper goes down.
“I’ll scream,” she warns.
“Oh, I bet you will.”
She scoots back on the bed, eyes narrowing. “Not out of pleasure, dumbass.”
“Don’t be so confident. We had car sex once and it was interrupted. I have plenty of ways to make you scream…in pleasure.”
I shove down my boxers and jeans, allowing my hard cock to spring free. She’s momentarily silenced, staring at my dick like it hasn’t been inside her before. Lazily, I stroke it, squeezing the head to make a bead of pre-come roll out.
“Take off your clothes, Laundry.”
“This isn’t talking,” she hisses.
Her eyes keep darting to my cock and she licks her lips to moisten them. If she knew how hungry she looked right now, she’d probably never forgive herself. I’ll get us back to where we were before. I just have to get her beneath me first. I know I can fix it.
“Take. Off. Your. Clothes.”
“You’ll have to rip them off me,” she taunts. “I’ll never willingly undress for you. You’re a monster.”
“And what does that make you when your pussy gets wet for a monster?”
“Fuck you.”
I’ve seen real fear in her eyes twice now. Once, when her dad called when we were fucking. She’d shut down and gone somewhere inside herself. The second time was when Scout carried her to his room last night.
Fear doesn’t exist between us.
Her breathing is heavy, eyes dilated, and lips parted. But it’s all from barely contained want. Beneath her incensed surface, she’s aching for me to take her.
To have Sparrow claim her, not Ford.
The desire to do just that is overwhelming. I climb onto the bed, slowly prowling toward her. Beneath the fabric of her shirt, her nipples are hard, standing at attention. I want them between my teeth.
She cries out when I pounce. Her struggle is half-ass and I easily divest her of her shirt. With all her creamy skin on display, I salivate with the need to taste her. Vaguely, I take note of the way she slaps me across my cheek, but I’m focused on getting her naked, too. Once she’s bare, I take a second to admire how fucking beautiful she is.
“You slapped me,” I murmur, eyeing her pretty pink lips.
“You stripped me.”
I smirk at her. “You knew it was coming.”
“Doesn’t mean I was okay with it!”
“Hmm.” I arch a brow and slide a hand down her stomach to her pussy. With my longest finger, I slide between her lips, finding wetness there. “Liar.”
Her lashes flutter and she gasps. “What’s wrong with me?”
I press a finger into her body, reveling at how tight she is and knowing my dick will soon be replacing it. “You’re a little fucked up just like we are.”
She seems to settle at those words. “I shouldn’t get turned on being forced into submission.”
“Who says you shouldn’t?”
“I don’t know. Society?”
“Embrace it.” I push another finger inside her, my dick jumping at the moan she makes. “Accept it.”
“I can’t,” she murmurs tearfully. “It makes me an accomplice to my own demise.”
I curl my fingers, drinking in the way her body shudders when I touch her G-spot. “Do I need to relieve you of your choices? Will that help?”
She bites on her bottom lip and then gives me the slightest nod.
“Say my name,” I growl, fucking her with my fingers a little more vigorously. “Say it.”
“Sparrow.”
I close my eyes, allowing myself to bask in the breathy way she says my name. “Good girl.” I finger her juicy cunt until she’s begging for me to stop. Not stop the act but stop the torture and give her what she wants.
An orgasm.
Obeying her silent request, I rub her inside, just over the most sensitive place of her body, until my fingers get slicker and she hisses out my name again. It sounds so fucking good on her sexy lips. Once I’m sure she’s ridden her orgasm onto the cusp of another one, I slip my fingers out of her and grab on to her thigh.
Her fingernails score my biceps as she rakes them down my arms. The sting makes my dick twitch. I’m damn near desperate to be inside her. Grabbing hold of my dick, I tease her slick pussy and then push in with a quick thrust of my hips.
“Ahh!” she yelps, digging her nails deeper into my arms.
Driving all the way in, I claim her as mine. As Sparrow’s. My mouth finds hers and I fucking devour her, needing to taste her tongue and lips and every sweet moan coming out of her.
“It was real,” I murmur against her mouth, driving deep into her. “This is real.”
Her heels dig into my ass and she kisses me hard, like she’s trying to shut me up. I bite her lip and say the words again and again. I’ll keep saying them until she forgives me and believes them.
Having her in my bed and saying my name is better than that shit show in the car. No one will interrupt us. She doesn’t have the fear of her father hanging over her head. Right now, she’s doing what she wants. Me.
“Sparrow,” she chokes out, her body tensing. “Oh God!”
I crush my mouth against hers, chasing her tongue with mine as I fuck her relentlessly. Her pussy tightens around my dick when she finds another orgasm which makes my dick throb with the need to come. A few more desperate and messy drives of my hips and I’m growling out her name this time.
Her body is like a hot throat, drinking every goddamn drip of my seed—hungry, no, ravenous for it. I’m dripping in sweat and shaking by the time she’s wrung me dry. I nearly collapse on top of her, crushing her smaller body, but manage to land on my elbows at the last second. The heat of my release oozes past my still-throbbing dick, trying its damnedest to escape.
A primal, suffocating feeling of the need to possess and own her overtakes me. I want to force my come back into her body until I can regroup and gift her more. I want her so full of my seed, it runs out of her in a steady stream for days.
My scent. My bruising kisses. My come.
If I could mark her like she’s some kind of animal that belongs to me, I would. It’s maddening how deep inside my mind this girl has gotten. What’s more alarming is I don’t want her out.
I just want her.
“You came inside me,” she mutters. “Are you crazy?”
Shrugging, I push my dick a little deeper despite it softening. “I like filling you up.”
“Yeah, and keep doing it without protection, you’ll get me pregnant.”
I don’t hate that idea. At. All.
“I’m going to stay inside you forever,” I tell her, grinning. “You have to admit, it feels pretty good.”
She rolls her eyes, fighting a smile. “You really need me to praise you for your fucking skills?”
“Doesn’t every guy?”
Her amusement fades and her features harden. “This doesn’t make us an item, Sparrow. I’m still your captive.”
“What the fuck ever. You’re mine. I’ll take you and Della away from here. Just the three of us.”
Even as I say it, I know it can’t happen. Scout won’t let it. And I won’t be happy without my brothers. We’re tied together too tight for one of us to leave.
Which means she can’t either.
“I’m not sure what sort of fantasy you have in your head, but it doesn’t end that way for me. I’m not a happily-ever-after girl. My story never reaches the happy. You’ll learn soon enough for yourself.”
“I’ll make you happy,” I argue.
“Like you made me go to your room and made me talk and made me undress?”
“It’s not like that—”
“Sparrow, don’t delude yourself.”
I glower at her, imploring her to understand that this thing between us is solid and real. That I’ll take care of her and protect her.
She doesn’t get it.
“Can I please take a shower now? Alone?” she asks, her voice cold and clipped. “Or is that not allowed?”
I roll onto my side giving her the freedom she clearly wants. Her bouncy tits are still free of my claiming marks and if she wasn’t being such a brat right now, I’d take a minute to put my stamp on them. “We’re not done discussing this, Laundry.”
“We are, actually.” She climbs off the bed, my come making her thighs glisten. “And you get to tell your brothers what we did. That’s all on you.”
“They won’t say shit,” I growl.
She stops in the doorway of my bathroom, cocking her head to the side as she studies my boneless, sated form. “Like I said. You’re deluded.”
With those words, she escapes to the bathroom. I’m not delusional. Landry and I have a fucking connection. She’s slept with me twice now. Her body can’t deny what we have. If my brothers think they’re going to stand in the middle of that, they’re wrong.
Which means the four of us have to figure out how we’re going to make this work.
Chapter Eight
Landry
They’re not going to hurt me.
If they wanted to, they’d have done it already.
Sure, I’m their “captive,” but it’s not like being imprisoned in my own home with Dad. They’re sheltering me and Della. That’s not captivity. That’s safety. My plans of escape were kind of shifty to begin with. So, while I didn’t expect to land here with them, it’s not the worst thing.
We’re playing video games for God’s sake, eating candy, and listening to Radiohead.
It’s so…chill.
Although, Sparrow’s weighted stares are anything but chill, especially considering I’m a little sore still from having him inside me. Each look he sends my way I feel all the way between my legs.
I’m not sure if Sparrow told Sully we had sex or not, but maybe their triplet bond is all he needs to know it happened. Every so often, Sully will shoot Sparrow a nasty glare and me one of longing.
Sorry, bud. I can only deal with one of you at a time.
“Anything on the news?” I ask for the millionth time today, tossing away the video game controller.
“Nope,” Sparrow and Sully both say at once, not bothering to look up from their phones.
“Any word on Scout?”
“Nope.” Again with the robotic parrot response.
This calmness feels like a false sense of security. As much as I want to lean into it, I don’t feel like it’s permanent. It’s not like we can hide out in this apartment, playing video games and ignoring reality forever. I feel like I need to do something besides play Fortnite. Anything. My mind races as I try to conjure up what I’d be doing if I were home and this were any other evening.
Stressing.
I would be counting down the minutes, not out of boredom, but out of fear. Becoming more and more worried as the time when Dad would come home would get nearer.
My eyes find Della who has Heathen in her tight grip, ignoring the way the cat squirms, petting her as she watches cartoons.
I’m still frustrated and a little mad at the triplets, but Della…Della is relaxed and happy. It hurts me, cutting deep, that I had to get us kidnapped in order to give her a stress-free day.
“Can I use your iPad?” I ask Sully. “Please?”
“To reach out for help?” he counters, a brow lifted.
“No one can help me,” I snap. “I’m just bored out of my skull.”
Lies. I just need to stay on guard. Pretending doesn’t make my situation go away.
