A low, primal groan left me and I swore it echoed in the room.
“You’re so fucking perfect.” I jerked my hips and let the last drop fall on her ass.
Someone knocked on the bedroom door.
I frowned.
What the hell do my brothers want?
Exhausted, Phoenix lay against the sink, naked and covered in my cum. Her lids drooped over her eyes.
I took some of the semen with my finger, leaned over, and put it near her mouth.
She licked it off my finger.
The person knocked again.
I need them to leave me alone.
I gritted my teeth.
I don’t care about the fucking job. I only want to focus on Phoenix.
Frowning, I slowly helped her up from the sink.
The person knocked again.
I scowled.
So impatient. That’s probably Griff.
I looked down at Phoenix. “Start the shower for us. Please.”
Still panting, she gazed at me. Shock filled her eyes.
I whispered, “What’s going on in your head?”
“I don’t understand.”
“What?”
“I don’t understand us. And. . .I don’t understand everything that you do to me. How you make me feel.”
I leaned in closer to Phoenix, inhaling the scent of our sex radiating off her. “But you like it?”
“I do.”
“Then, that’s the only thing that’s important.”
The person knocked again.
“I’ll be right back.” I sneered, turned around, and stormed off. “What?!”
Griff’s voice sounded on the other side. “I hate to interrupt your little honeymoon, but something’s come up.”
I entered the bedroom and grabbed my jeans. “What the fuck has come up?”
He lowered his voice. “Pandora is here.”
What? Who the hell is that?
I rushed to put on my jeans and went to the door.
Behind me, the sound of the shower came on. Already, I was desperate to be under the warm water with Phoenix.
This shit better be quick.
I swung open the door. “What did you say?”
Griff tried to come in.
I blocked him with my arm. “What do you want?”
“Pandora is here.”
“Who the fuck is Pandora?”
“The sexy chick from Johnny’s shop.”
“Oh.” I tensed. “The donut chick?”
“Yes.”
“How the hell did she know where we were?”
“I gave her the address when she called.”
“When did she call?”
“This morning.”
“Why did she call?”
“She said it was a big emergency and that she had to talk to us.”
I ran my fingers through my hair. “Griff, you’re breaking the rules. No one is supposed to know where we lay our heads.”
“Oh really, Cain?” He gestured toward the bathroom. “Or is it that you are the only one that can do what you want?”
“Okay. Okay.” I sighed. “What did she say?”
“Well, that’s the problem. Pandora is waiting for you to get downstairs. She won’t say anything until you’re there.”
I glared. “And why would I give two shits about what she has to say?”
“Because Pandora admitted that she knows all about our job for the Syndicate nightclub. She gave West and me details of the robbery. Johnny told her everything, and well. . .”
I snarled. “What?”
Griff frowned. “And Johnny Cupcakes is dead.”
Chapter 21
Day Two
PHOENIX
I
sat on the sink still riding the aftershocks of orgasms with Cain.
Damn his dick. . .his tongue. . .
So here I was on day two of being re-kidnapped by Cain. So far, I’d fallen into Stockholm Syndrome tendencies several times. How could I not fall, when he’d appeared so vulnerable from that nightmare.
By the sink, I thought I might have been making sense to Cain. I tried to explain how we couldn’t work. That the very concept of us starting some form of a relationship would be more insane than his being a vigilante serial killer. Because he was smart, he kept countering and countering with shit that made sense too.
Talking to him won’t work. When we talk, I think we can work.
Plus, once he started licking my pussy, I began to see the logic in all of his points anyway. Insane or not, the man knew how to pleasure me and was happy to do so as much as possible.
Then, after the second orgasm, it was impossible for me to argue against us.
There’s no solution. At least not one I can think of right now.
I’d confessed that I might have to kill him and he agreed. Then, he gave me his personal request on how I should do it.
What the fuck?
On one hand, I didn’t want to kill him. On the other, it would be stupid to run and think I could truly escape him forever. And then there was my softening heart battling with my head.
So what’s the next option?
I’d learned from living on the street that when no clear solution came to my head, I had to wait it out and see. What else could one do, but let go and flow with the shit?
There were moments when storms came destroying the city. All the homeless crowded in the bathrooms, stinking up the place. Our bodies squeezed in with strangers.
And all we could do was wait until it stopped violently raining.