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I lay flat on my back, watching her move around, gathering all the pretty, girly things I couldn’t wait to make room for at my place.
“I believe I was promised a treat,” I floated when she was mostly packed up. I’d imagined my treat would come once we were all the way home, but lying on Greer’s bed surrounded by her scent…I was hard for the first time since the night I was stabbed.
“We really shouldn’t,” she said, lifting her brows. “You heard the doctor.”
“What if I stayed right here. Just like this.” I raised my arms over my head toward the headboard, mimicking the position I’d been tied up in on our disastrous trip to South Bend.
Greer debated for a moment, but she wanted it as badly as I did.
“I’m not going to sit on your face, dirty boy, if that’s what you’re alluding to. I haven’t showered in two days.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind,” I said with a dirty smile, “but if that’s the way you feel, it’s lucky I have something else you can sit on.”
“As long as you stay perfectly still. Perfectly. Still. Or I stop.”
“Done,” I murmured, and she began taking off her clothes one piece at a time. We were both still dressed in our best hospital-gift-shop chic, but she was entrancing. I wasn’t moving an inch. Totally, completely naked, she started toward me, stopping to slowly unzip my jeans and fighting to get my cock out.
She straddled me—her, butt-ass naked, me, fully clothed—and used my cock to play with her clit.
“I repeat,” she said, in a teasing, sing-song voice, “if you move, we have to stop.”
She was deliciously, delightfully naughty. The two days we’d just spent together doing nothing special had helped solidify our fragile bond, which made the sex even better. I lay there until slowly, so slowly, she began inching me inside of her. Getting up on her haunches, she adopted a smooth plunge about three-quarters of the way down. It was enough to feel incredible but not enough to bring the weight of her onto my hips or jar me in any way. It was like fucking through a glory hole—but I got to see everything up close.
“Play with yourself,” I growled, and Greer complied. It was over in minutes, both of us breathless from the high of being together again. Greer carefully swung off of me, and instead of running to the bathroom to clean up, she quickly redressed, snuggled up beside me, and started to talk. She told me about what she’d found in Eugenia’s room. While I was tempted to get upset that she hadn’t told me earlier, like during the past few days, I realized that her being here had triggered the memory. That she was sharing as soon as things came to the surface.
“Fuuuck,” I said on a long exhale. “That’s fucking sick.”
As the word “sick” rolled off my lips, three loud bangs sounded overhead.
“What the fuck?” I couldn’t come all the way up quickly without tearing my stitches, but I used my arms to carefully come off the bed.
“Stay here, Jace, please just stay here. I’m going to go up and catch whoever this is once and for all.”
“No, we’re going to leave. Now. And call the cops.”
“We will call the cops. And we leave. There’ll probably be no one up there—there never is. But I have to look. I need to go up. You rest.”
“You’re not going any-damn-where without me, sweetheart. If you want to go look, we’ll go look.”
Thankfully, while the swirling metal stairs to the attic creaked under my weight, they were easier to manage than the wide, steep stairs in the main hallway. After twenty-something careful steps, my hand gripping the rail so hard my knuckles turned white, our heads poked into the attic.
“This way,” Greer whispered, careful not to pull me but moving steadily through the maze of boxes and furniture toward the other end of the space. There was more light here from the high windows. As our eyes adjusted, it was easier to make out the silhouette in front of us.
Anna. Sitting on the bed, legs crossed. Like she was waiting for us.
