I hate my full name because it’s the name on every form, every newspaper, blasted all over the internet. I hate when people call me Lexington because when they do, it calls tohim,the person I’m trying not to be around her. It calls to the side of me I despise. The part of me who thinks about her and her husband together. The part of me I don’t want to let out to play with her.
I hate that name, but when it falls from her parted lips that way, I love it.
The moment we get to Texas, I’ll be off her hands—out of her hair and out of her pussy. I fully intended to kill her, eliminating any chance for her to offer information to the law regarding my whereabouts. But now?
I’ve decided I’ll set the rabbit free.
ChapterNine
Selena
Icouldn’t believe he meant what he said last night when he mentioned returning to New York. I thought he’d change his mind or that he’d said it just to sleep with me. I didn’t think he’d turn around when we were so close to his freedom. I didn’t expect him to go back for anything, not even to get his hands on Bryce. He isn’t worth getting caught over, and if Lex gets caught, I’ll end up alone with the true monster: my husband.
I watch Lex from the passenger seat as he drives. Every so often he shoots a look over at me and flashes a quick smirk.
“We should go back,” I say with a nervous shake of my knee beside the center console.
He raises an eyebrow. “Wearegoing back.”
I scoff. “You know what I mean. Back the way we were going. Away from here.”
“Rabbit, stop,” he says with a stern tone that makes me shut my mouth. “If you’re going to be mouthy, use it in a better way.”
My jaw drops at his brazen words. He talks to me like I’m his whore, a toy to use. And now, with him, I want to be played with like that. My eyes land on the hard dick beneath the zipper of his jeans. My leg stops shaking as I stare at him.
He reaches out and grabs my hand, caressing my palm. “Did you stroke your husband’s dick?”
I nod, keeping my eyes on him.
“Show me how.” He brings my hand to the zipper. I consider arguing—believe me, I consider it—but an aching in my gut keeps my hand in place.
The denim scrapes against the soft pads of my fingers as I drag them toward the button. I swallow hard, lean over, and work open his pants. He isn’t wearing boxers, giving me a glimpse of his cock.
“Don’t be shy. You’ve seen it all already,” he says as he fully reveals his cock, sick of me taking my time to expose him. His hand rides along his shaft before circling his head and planting itself on the steering wheel again. I stare at the bead of pre-cum on his head and feel guilt the moment it drips over the curve.
I dig my fingers into his jeans. He’s already been inside me—twice. He already made me come—three times. Stroking his dick hardly seems like it’ll matter at this point. I can just add it to my list of sins.
I draw a deep breath before wrapping my hand around the hot skin.
“Good girl,” he groans. His fingers dig into the steering wheel as I stroke him. Despite the soft buck of his hips, he keeps the car steady on the road, which is much better than I did. “I need your mouth, bunny,” he says through a groan.
I shake my head. “Wh-what? I can’t. You’re driving.”
“So? Get on your knees and lean over my lap.”
I shake my head.
“Now, rabbit! Don’t make me ask you again. You can suck me off your way or my way, your choice.”
I hate when he gives choices. They’re never good ones.
I swallow the lump in my throat and undo my seatbelt. I swivel my head, looking at the quiet, empty road.
“Fine,” I say as I climb onto my knees.
As I lean over his lap, he grabs my hair, lifting it away from my face and bunching it in his hand. I take him into my mouth. He groans in a way that shakes his whole body, like I’ve sent a shockwave through him. I suck him, and his hips pulse toward my mouth, forcing me to take more of him. His hand leaves my hair and plants on my ass. His fingers graze my lower back as his hand returns to my hair. He pulls me off his dick, and I look up at him.
“Does he make you suck his cock?” he asks.