I wish that biker would produce a body so I can get things set into motion. The faster she is declared dead the faster I get my money and can pay him his other half of his fee. I admit he’s good. Sending me her pinky finger was a nice touch. The FBI agent I spoke with earlier told me to have faith, but I could see it in his eyes and hear it in his despondent tone. He thinks she’s dead and that they will never find her body. I heard him talking to his partner. They think it’s a kidnapping gone wrong. They had to let Jesus Perez go. There wasn’t enough for them to hold him and he wouldn’t confess. All they have is circumstantial evidence. Not anything that could make charges stick. Not yet anyway. I am confused why they suspect he played a role.
Not that it matters. All that matters is that the job is completed efficiently. I run my brush through my hair and smile at my reflection in the mirror and nearly scream and fall off my stool when I see Wrath standing behind me.
I whip around. “How did you get in here? The FBI have agents posted outside.”
He grunts and strokes his disgusting beard. “I have my ways. I’m a professional. You didn’t make the second half of your payment. I’m here to collect.”
The man looks like a Neanderthal who was recently thawed from the ice block he’s been frozen in. He towers over me with his dark and haunting eyes narrowed on me attempting to intimidate me and it’s working.
“You didn’t produce a body. I need her body. Until the death certificate is signed, you’ll have to wait.”
“That wasn’t the deal. You have twenty- four hours. The girl is dead. You want your proof. Here.” The scary man pulls a photo out of his leather vest. He places it face down on my vanity and repeats. “Twenty-four hours. Get me my money, bitch, or the same will happen to you.” Wrath leaves and my hand trembles, hovering over the photograph.
I suck in a breath and flip it over. My hand flies to my mouth. He held true to his word. I thought I was prepared for this to be real but seeing her in the ground a pang of guilt blooms in my chest. I loved that girl once upon a time. Pale, bloodied, and nude…she appears the victim of a brutal crime. I feel sick.
Running to the bathroom I let go of the picture and collapse at the porcelain bowl. I retch violently. My stomach heaving and expelling my breakfast.
Chapter 16
—Diego
Sybil slinks toward me on the bed like a tigress ready to pounce. She can say she doesn’t want me all she likes to. The way her body res
ponds to my touch and her actions prove otherwise. Sexy yet sweet. Her lashes flutter and her lips part as she takes in the sight of me stroking my dick. Licking her lips, she moves closer.
“You know what sixty-nine is?”
“I was a virgin not dumb,” she sasses.
“You ever had a dick in that mouth?”
“No.”
“You about to. C’mere and sit on my face backwards.”
I see the hesitation written on her face as her brow quirks up.
“Not gonna tell you twice, baby.”
“Can we slow down?”
“You getting shy on me now?”
“No.”
“Want that pussy, Sybil.”
“Yeah and I want the rest of my pinky finger back and for you to tell me what you’re trying to escape.”
A hint of pain flashes on my face briefly. My mouth opens and the words that follow shock her. “My mother is sick. She’s mentally ill. It’s not good. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“If I were sensible, I’d tell myself it is only some bullshit lie to manipulate me but there is too much raw honesty and pain laced in your words. You’re seriously complicated, and I’m messed up in the head because I want to comfort you. The monster who butchered my hand. My emotions keep teetering between the thin veil of lust and hate. That’s all this is. That’s all it can be because when this all comes crashing down all we will be are memories.”
My jaw ticks and Sybil moves to straddle my face, giving me what I want and what I need. To get lost in her. She lowers that sweet pussy over my mouth, and I grip her thighs holding her in place. Fuck me, she’s soaked. Her inner thighs are slick. Thrusting my tongue up inside her, I get busy. I work her juicy cunt, loving the moans leaving her throat. Her hand slides to my neck, wrapping around me with those slender fingers, choking me. Her thighs squeezing the sides of my face. Rolling her hips, she rides my tongue, fucking it so hard I’ll be paying for it later. Right now though, I don’t care about that. It isn’t long before her legs start to shake, and her essence coats my mouth.
I slap her ass. “Ride me, Princessa.”
Sybil slides down my body, keeping her back to me as she impales herself on my dick in reverse cowgirl. I let her lead and control the pace. The sight of her sweet ass bouncing on my thighs is erotic as fuck. Wanting to touch her, I tell her to turn around. Like a good girl Sybil does as she is told without giving me any sass. I sit up pressing us together, gazing into her eyes, willing her to see that I meant every word earlier.