Page 53 of Kill Song

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Along the drive back, I dropped the sedan at a long-term storage and picked up a different vehicle. We had them stashed in various locations across the country, all paid on direct debit from accounts funded to keep them paid for at least twenty years. The advent of electronic transfers and the ability to open accounts without ever setting foot in a bank let Daddy leave paper trails everywhere. Just none of the paper trails connected.

Better to dead end an investigation, than to make it just vanish into the ether. Frustrating law enforcement by letting them find what they expected to find, only that it went nowhere, worked better in the long run. Or so he advised me. While Rick didn’t ask, I gave him a thumbnail sketch of the why behind our actions.

His simple, easy nod of acceptance sent the butterfly of sensation through my chest again. While I couldn’t identify the emotion or even the source of it, it both pleased and terrified me in equal measures. For now, I boxed it up and put it away. We had work to do. The extra day at the hotel had been an indulgence. One Rick hadn’t asked me for, but I had taken for us nonetheless.

The ache in my cunt was that of one ill-used to being so thoroughly stretched and repeatedly, too. I found myself clenching my thighs in anticipation before I made myself relax. Rick had moves and he never pinned me or restrained me without asking. Though once, his hands had locked on mine, our fingers threading together as he stretched my arms over my head and pounded his body into mine. The whole time his gaze drilled into mine as though he truly was intent on filling every part of me. I swore I lost all track of reality.

For a few moments, he had fucked my soul right out of my body.

I wanted him to do it again.

Later.

When we swapped cars, I’d had Rick change clothes. This time, he was dressed in jeans, a button-down plaid shirt and he’d let me add a false beard to his face. The downy softness of it as I attached the pieces gave me other ideas.

Never had focusing on a task been quite this challenging. It had begun to piss me off. Still, Rick was ready and he hid those stunning cobalt eyes behind a pair of sunglasses. I parked on the street and Rick added enough change to one of the old-fashioned meters to buy us a couple of hours. Together, we made our way to the outdoor cafe.

The trip back had taken the whole morning, so we arrived with the lunch rush. The waiter showed us to a table. This one was located near the rear of the patio, tucked near an Italian cypress tree. This part of old town had gentrified over the last ten years. Outdoor cafes, artisan bakeries, and hand-dipped candle shops, along with all other manner of expensive shops had opened their doors.

It had become a cobblestone playground, carved out of what had once been crack dens and flophouses, according to Daddy. We’d had coffee at this very same shop for my birthday. Coffee and cakes, just like he promised every year. Not once had he missed my birthday.

Not once, until this year.

This was also the last place I’d seen him before he went on his job and I’d gone on mine.

“Vienna,” Rick said my name so softly, I thought I’d imagined it, but he stroked his fingers along the side of my hand and the world snapped much more sharply back into focus. I hadn’t realized I’d begun replaying that last day with Daddy. The clink of plates, the subtle hum of conversation, the warmth of the sun dappling through the patio through the pergola all reminded me it was the present.

Nothing more than Rick himself.

Yet, he’d gotten my attention for a reason. A waiter weaved through the tables leading our third member to us. Fletcher Reed wore cargo shorts that left his calves bare. The light dusting of dark hair on them did nothing to hide the corded muscle.

A runner.

His hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck and the blue shirt he wore matched his cerulean eyes almost perfectly. Everything about him screamed casual wealth—if you overlooked the fading bruises his stubble and sunglasses helped to disguise.

An easy smile curved his lips as the waiter led him to us. Rick rose and shook Fletcher’s hand almost automatically as Fletcher said, “Mr. and Mrs. H—” A chuckle escaped. “Mr. and Mrs. Hardy.”

Good man, he’d figured it out.

“Irish coffee,” he said with a flash of a grin at the waiter before he and Rick both took their seats. Then with a glance at me, he added, “Hold the Irish.” He shook his head but didn’t say anything more until the waiter walked away from us and then he only glanced from me to Rick and then back. I caught the flash of silver from his tongue piercing as he licked his lips.

The quiet held until the waiter delivered our first round of sweet pastries, along with Fletcher’s coffee. I picked up my own cup and took a sip of the bitter brew. It was perfect, the beans were all fresh ground and brewed to perfection. When we were finally alone, Fletcher leaned forward and fixed me with a smile.

“Time for another test?”

“What makes you say that?” It was, but I was curious as to why he thought so.

“Because you scheduled a meeting withme, Mrs. Hardy,” he said the last with another quick grin and a second lick of his lips like he couldn’t get enough of the taste of it. “Which means I passed the first test. Just like I said I would.”

Cocky.

Assured.

Sexy as hell.

He removed the sunglasses and stared at me. “Put me to work, Drew.” The words were an invitation and a challenge. “Test me. I won’t let you down.”

Rick snorted softly and Fletcher shot him a wink.


Tags: Heather Long Erotic