Snow White & The Biker - Page 22

She pads across the cabin to the couch, plopping that fine bare ass on the cushions and drawing her knees up to her chest as she grabs some slices of fruit. Her gaze meets mine, pinning me in place as she sucks a strawberry into her mouth, juice dripping down her chin, moaning like she’s having an orgasm in her mouth. “So good.” Sybil smirks then stuffs two fingers in her mouth and sucks them. I can see a hint of her sweet pussy through her legs. That sweet pussy I want another taste of. Once wasn’t enough.

She takes another strawberry between her fingers and pops it in her mouth. More juice runs down her chin, and I’m tempted to lick it off my damn self.

Fuck me. For being a virgin until I took her cherry, she’s a naughty girl. I shove off from the wall by the bathroom and move to the kitchen to clean up from cutting the fruit. Sybil continues her performance while I do my best to ignore her. This morning there was a press release reporting her missing under suspicious circumstances. It’s only a matter of time before the dots connect to Jesus. The stupid fuck who thought Sybil would ever touch him.

Her evil stepmother played t

he concerned parent role well enough to win an award, but I could see through those glacial eyes. That bitch is cold as ice. She received the finger this morning. Wrath handled it personally. In a week she’ll turn over the photos and Jesus will be arrested. I’ll be sitting back with my girl watching it all go down then the real fun will begin, and that bitch Consuela will get hers. Wrath too.

“So, what’s the plan?”

I blink and turn my attention to Sybil.

“In due time, baby.”

She rolls her eyes. “Stop calling me baby or whatever other pet name you want to call me. My name is Sybil,” she hisses at me.

“I’ll call you whatever I damn well please and, sweetness, you’ll enjoy it. The plan is you sit your ass in this cabin for as long as shit takes.”

“Are you going to kill me? Cut other pieces of me off to keep as trophies or…” she trails off staring at the mantle. She gulps. I didn’t think it was possible for her to turn any paler, but her skin is ashen like snow. “Is that what I think it is?” She points to the jar holding the pig heart.

I chuckle. I forgot to throw it out. Wrath told me to do whatever I wanted with it. “It’s your heart.”

Her mouth opens and she has this adorably blank expression on her face. “My heart?”

“Yeah. I cut out right out of your chest,” I tease her, sensing it’s way too soon for that but unable to help myself from doing it.

She cradles her wounded hand, and I feel like shit for it but there was no other way. I could have taken a toe, but a pinky finger seemed ideal. Then Sybil does something completely unexpected and lifts the tee up over her breasts and studies her chest. “Cut out my heart, huh?” Her lips twitch and tug upward. She wants to laugh, but I can see her fighting the urge.

My gaze drops back to her perfect tits. Rolling the shirt back down her torso doesn’t deter my thoughts from how good her skin tasted in my mouth. It only makes me want her that much more.

“Right.” Picking up a book she ignores me and flips the front cover open.

“You finished?” I grab the food off the table.

She nods and I shove up to put it away for later.

When I turn back around from the fridge, she’s laying on her stomach, holding the book close to her face resting on her elbows. Her legs are bent upward, crossed at the ankles and my tee is bunched up at the small of her back, and I can’t look away from her bare ass.

I need to check my messages. I told her no phone only that was a lie.

My cell phone keeps vibrating in my back pocket making me wonder what’s going down. I could go into the bathroom and do it or drug her even, but I don’t want to put anymore shit in her system and make her fuckin’ addicted. I don’t want to leave her alone either. I can’t trust her not to do something stupid like try to escape when it’s pouring the rain outside.

I catch sight of my old man’s radio on a shelf in the kitchen. When I was a kid and we’d come up here on weekends it was always playing. Mom would hum around the kitchen and my dad would twirl her around and slap her on the butt when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. Shit was good back then.

That was back before Wrath and his betrayal. I know he took my father out. He went on a run and it turned bad. Guy turned on him and shot him dead. Pointblank. One bullet between the eyes. Wrath set him up. I know it. The rest of the club does too, but he has his hooks so deep in them all, no one is willing to take the bastard on. Only I am and I will. Death would be too easy for him. I have something worse than death in mind for that fucker.

I plug the radio into an outlet in the kitchen unable to stand the silence. I can’t believe it still works after all this time. I fiddle around with the tuner until I pick up a station. I don’t have any clue what type of music they play. It’s nothing but commercials. Everyone streams their music and shit now. Sybil seems interested in the novel she’s reading and is ignoring me completely.

The weather report plays, and I know I won’t be travelling anytime soon. We’re experiencing torrential rain and even though I’m a seasoned rider I’m not taking the risk. Not on these roads. I grab a beer from the fridge and wait for an opportunity to slip outside to check my phone. Sybil rolls to her back and shuts the book dropping it back to the table. I take a hard pull from the bottle and observe her as she shuffles around getting comfortable. She reminds me of a sleepy kitten, yawning while stretching her arms and legs out. Painkillers are taking effect.

By the time I finish my beer, her eyes have closed, and her breathing has evened out. I toss my bottle in the trash and drape the quilt on the back of the couch over her. I hang back for a minute or two to make sure she’s really sleeping then I step out onto the porch.

Taty – Call me. It’s important.

Need to speak to you.

It’s your Mother. She’s in the hospital.

Tags: Glenna Maynard Romance
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