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“It can’t be him,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “You shot him in the chest.”
“But the murders are him.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“So we have three scenarios here. One, Lester is somehow alive. I doubt that’s the case. Two, he was working with someone, which I also doubt.”
“Why?” I cut in.
He shook his head slowly. “Hard to explain. Sometimes when you’re deep in a case you start to think like the guy you’re chasing. I don’t think it’s possible to get any deeper into a case than I was with Seed. He doesn’t work with other people.”
“Okay. So what’s the third option?”
“A copycat.”
“Someone else killing like Seed did?”
He looked frustrated. “Yes. But there are details in the killings that weren’t released to the public, stuff a copycat shouldn’t know about.”
“Plus, why would they be killing around here?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I really don’t.”
We pulled into the office park and Easton climbed out of the car. I grabbed my coffee and followed him. I could tell that the conversation was over, but I was burning with more questions. My heart was hammering in my chest, beating wildly. I couldn’t believe he had opened up to me like that. Sure, he said he was mad, but he seemed more interested in getting my opinion about the case than anything else.
Did he respect me like that? I could never tell if he thought I was just some dumb kid or if he thought I actually had some potential. He was such an asshole most of the time that I was somewhat taken aback when he acted like a normal human being.
I followed him up into his office, but as soon as we were inside, he disappeared into the back room. I knew better than to follow him, so I set my stuff up at the desk and checked the messages.
I glanced up as he walked into the bathroom. A minute later, he came back with the file folder and plopped it down on the desk in front of me.
I stared up at him. “What?” I asked.
“Read it through.”
“Are you kidding?”
He came close to me and my mouth hung open. He tipped my chin up toward him, his eyes locked on mine.
“You might as well.”
“What do you want from me?” I whispered to him.
“Nothing. You’re my stepsister. My employee.”
“But what about—”
He grabbed my hair slightly and I gaped, stopping midsentence.
“You’re just a pretty cunt that I want to fuck over and over.”
“If that’s true, you wouldn’t want my opinion.” I paused as I caught the look in his eye. “You need it, don’t you?”
“I need something,” he whispered.
And then he crushed his mouth against mine, kissing me hard.
Everything else was forgotten in that instant as I stood and pressed my body against him, kissing him deep, our tongues running together.
12
Easton
I pressed her up against the desk, her ass halfway on the top as I kissed her hard.
I knew what I wanted. Laney was so much more than I had bargained for from the start, and she had slowly worn me down over the days. At first I’d thought she was some spoiled college kid with no knowledge of the real world, but as we’d worked together, I knew she was so much more than that.
I was pissed when she said she’d read the file. I was pissed at myself for leaving it out and at her for being a sneak. But really, it was better this way. It was better if all my bullshit was out in the open for everyone to know.
Now she knew what I was. She knew what I had done, what had happened to me. She knew my partner was dead because of my recklessness, because I had gotten into Seed’s case far too deep. She knew how we had all drowned.
And it only made me want her more. It made my fucking cock hard thinking about her in her short little skirts and her shirts that showed off her perfect tits. It made me fucking hard to imagine her sweet lips wrapped around my cock, sucking me dry.
I grabbed her computer and dropped it onto the chair. Then I swept all her shit off the top of the desk.
She laughed. “You’re cleaning that up.”
I bit her bottom lip and felt her tits. “Not a chance.”
“You can’t just make a mess.”
I slowly slid my hands down her front and slipped them under her skirt, up along her thigh and in between her legs. Her pussy was soaked through, her underwear already useless.
“I’m not the mess here,” I said as I began to gently rub her spot.
“Shit,” she gasped. “I am not a mess.”
“You’re soaked for me, Laney.”
