And to my fucking dismay, they’re not thoughts about the best way to destroy her. No. They’re thoughts about her.
Her state of mind. What does she want? Where is she going? Who is she thinking about?
If I let my brain loose, it’ll be the reason for my downfall, so I fill it with different thoughts.
Reina is mine to rule and own.
That’s the only reason I’m letting her get away with occupying my thoughts.
At the parking lot, Reina waves at her friends. Her little leather skirt barely reaches the middle of her thighs. The black color contrasts with her skin, making it look like the most delectable meal waiting to be served. Her top falls over one shoulder, revealing the curve of her neck as she pushes her blond strands to one side.
If temptation had a name, it’d be Reina.
Her hips sway gently as she turns around, hips that are made for my fucking hands as I grab them and slam into her warmth.
My cock twitches and I groan, readjusting my sunglasses. It’s been less than a
week since I had her all to myself.
In my dick’s memory, that’s a long fucking time.
It wouldn’t feel this desperate if I hadn’t had her, if I’d kept to my rules and made my cock wait.
Now that I’ve had a taste, I want her hands, mouth, and pussy for myself.
I want all of her.
My fantasies come to a screeching halt when I make out the determined expression on her face, the darkening of her eyes and the closing off of her features.
Old Reina’s traits.
She’s out for trouble.
She’s out to destroy someone’s life.
Her expression disappears as she enters the taxi. I retrieve my keys and stride to my car.
Only one way to find out her plans.
I stand in the middle of the burned cottage in the forest.
The walls are black from the remains of the fire. The sun slips in through the cracks between the stones and the ceiling that’s half gone.
Despite the rays of sunshine, a cold gust of wind whirls around me as if trying to kick me out. It still smells of smoke and a bit of pine, like the trees standing tall around here. Some yellow police tape surrounds the area, but no one guards it.
If they suspect there’s been a murder, how could they deem it good to go? After all, Detective Daniels seems hell-bent on catching the perpetrator.
In the small space, I stand with my back to the half-burned door. My chest has been clenching since the moment I paid the cabbie and told him he was good to go.
This is where the police found human remains and my bracelet. It’s close to where I was found afterward, so I must’ve been here.
I must’ve been at the crime scene.
Human remains.
A shudder races down my spine at the thought. What could I have been doing with the person whose remains they found?
Since Lucy’s father is the police deputy commissioner, I’ve been asking her if she’s heard anything.