Page 53 of On Your Life

“Since you asked so nicely.”

His words roll off his tongue and vibrate across my aching clit. My eyes roll back so far in their sockets that it hurts. His mouth collides with my throbbing bud and every worry of the past week is a distant memory.

His tongue flicks expertly, my body jolting at every lap.

A soft whimper escapes my lips and he growls into my sensitive flesh. The vibration causes that coil to tighten low in my abdomen and my back arches off the ground.

Like he can sense it, he thrust two fingers into my opening and slowly slides them in and out, causing shivers to wrack my body.

“Does the word Reaper mean anything to you?” The seriousness in his voice cuts straight through the haze.

What did he say?

He pauses, studying my face in the low light.

“What?” I ask, confused.

His fingers start moving again, faster, and I throw my head back to the ceiling not caring what he said.

“Reaper. Does that word mean anything to you?” he asks, the deep cadence in his voice causing my insides to twictch.

“No,” I answer on an exhale.

His expression hardens.

“Eyes on me,” he demands.

I lean my head up and force myself to look at him. The intensity in his stare causes my stomach to drop. His arm moves back and forth as he brings me closer to unraveling.

“Watch me ruin you, little killer.”

This is the only time I will ever happily hear that name. His mouth clamps down on my clit again and my back arches off the ground from the force of my orgasm.

My whole body spasms so hard that it feels like it won’t stop as he continues to slide his fingers in and out, prolonging my torture.

He pulls his fingers away, leaving me breathless and disoriented. He licks them clean one last time before standing over me, his hand held out in offering.

I push up to my feet on my own, brushing imaginary dirt from my uniform. I try to ignore the olive branch and attempt to get my brain back in working order.

“Don’t forget the office inmate,” he smirks.

He looks me over one last time before exiting the kitchen, his boots squeaking every other step. I stare until the kitchen falls silent again.

Chapter 28

Fox

Iwas sure that if anything would get her to talk, it would be that. Her half-lidded eyes are burned permanently into my mind, and I can’t seem to shake them no matter how hard I try.

They follow me when I close my eyes. They stared back at me the entire drive home. I can still see the way they looked at me, like there was something she wanted to say but couldn’t force the words past whatever was keeping her silent. Was it the guilt? Or genuine confusion from what I was asking?

The deep seated hatred that I felt for her is morphing into something I don’t recognize, and don’t have the time to delve into any further right now.

I don't like this feeling, this doubt. Something doesn’t seem right, and my superstitious side is telling me that it’s Conner pushing me toward the answers. Even in the afterlife, he’s impatient as hell.

The sun beams through the blinds into the living room. His laptop sits open on the coffee table in front of me, its screen illuminating the clutter around it. I’ve tried every password I can think of. Every variation, every stupid inside joke, and combination of things that might mean something to him.

I’ve even gone through every conversation we had leading up to his death, searching for some seemingly insignificant clue I might have missed.