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A hand that fisted my cock this morning, getting me hard before both he and Amara climbed on me. I flipped her on her back, took her ass while Carter fed me his cock.
He smirks, reading my heated expression.
“I know what you look like when you’re mad,” I huff, turning my eyes back to the road. “This isn’t it.”
“Oh, I am. But I’m saving myself for them.” In my periphery, I see him scrubbing his toned thighs. Now, I see the simmering anger. “Gonna give these fuckers the best version of myself.”
An old stone apartment building appears after I turn. I gaze up at the light on the top floor.
Her parents are there. At least that’s what our detectives informed us, and they’re never wrong. These fuckers are practically waiting for us. Comfortable and safe. They think these four walls and guard at the front mean nothing can hurt them.
Think again.
We stop at a parking garage on the same block as her parents’ place, and I swerve the Bentley into a free space.
“Ever met them?”
“Amara’s folks?” Carter barks an unamused laugh, flipping his Cyclone between his fingers. “Fuck no.”
“Why?” I quirk an eyebrow, glancing at him and then back at the road.
“She’s never offered,” Carter says offhandedly.
“Hasn’t she?” I slip it into the holster. Carter does the same.
We both get out of the car. Adrenaline thrums in my veins, but my hands don’t shake one fucking bit when I button my suit jacket.
“No. I get why.” Carter slams the door of the car. We’re silent as we take the elevator to the street.
Once we’re in the open air, he adds, “I lost it when she told me how they’d been treating her. Pinned her to the wall, fucked her ass. Bit her until she bled. Took out all my violent energy and made things better for her.”
He says it as if we’re having an everyday conversation. To the people in the street—those who don’t hear him—it must look like one. Like we’re two rich pricks talking business.
In a way, it is. Except I can’t do what I want, which is put a hand on the small of his back. We never know who’s watching us.
One day, I will. One day, I’ll have both of them at my sides and I’ll touch them out in the open however the fuck I want.
With security around us, granted.
Carter turns his gaze to me at the entrance of the apartment building. I don’t move, and Carter’s psycho smile stretches on his face.
Something vile is about to leave his mouth. I fucking smell it.
“Later,” I warn.
“Amara had to have known I wouldn’t have been able to be civil around those assholes.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “She would’ve been right. It took me over a week to cool off after I heard her story. Barely. I’m still considering the option of peeling off their skin and sowing it into a dress for Amara.”
A gray-haired woman who walks next to us gasps. Carter’s smile widens. He’s about to distress her further, and there’s nothing I can do to stop him out here. Like fuck his lack of tact out of him.
Fortunately, she has the sense to look away and speed-walk on her heels.
“I’m punishing you for this.” I move close so only he would hear me. We stand eye to eye, his sandalwood cologne carrying into my flared nostrils. “It’ll be a surprise, and it’ll hurt. I promise you that.”
“What if I say Cyclone?” His safeword. He chose it. What fucking else?
I refused to touch either of them until he had one, right after the day we fucked Christopher up. I had every intention of exploring his limits. Thoroughly. Someday in the near future, he’ll use it. Just a matter of time.
“Oh, you will?” I edge closer. “Will that be before or after you come so hard it takes Amara forever to lick every drop of your orgasm off your stomach?”
