Page 48 of Filthy Liar
The final showdown is always bloody, brutal, and inevitably ends in failure, because the good guys outnumber the bad guys.
But evil people start out more quietly than that. They find subtle ways to hurt others. Privately at first. Then, inch by inch, they creep into public view. Normalizing abuse of those around them, converting victims into accomplices, witnesses into apologists. And for a long time, we don’t even realize we’re a part of the destruction.
There is no corner of the world where power has not been corrupted, where power has notcorruptedthose who have it.
Including me and my firm.
If someone is targeting us, it’s the next step in a plan. They’re someone who has had contact with us in the past. A client or a target. I look at my colleagues and see equally furious expressions on their faces. “Who has a score to settle with us?”
The shorter answer may be, who doesn’t.
“I’ll write an algorithm to make some predictions,” Wilson says. “It’ll take the better part of the night to give us some potential leads. Everyone should try to get some sleep.”
I point to the screen. “We’re not replying to this, right?”
Ellie flips her middle finger in the direction of the photo. “Nope. Thanks for the data, but we’re done with this nonsense.”
Great. “All right. I’ll make contact with the marshals and we’ll reconvene here at six tomorrow morning.”
We shower together.
We don’t talk.
There’s a pulsing awareness as we dry off that we’re about to tumble into her bed, about to fuck ourselves into a state of exhaustion, and in the morning, something is going to happen.
A raid, if we’re lucky. An arrest, God willing.
And then she’ll disappear.
Wilson thinks we should hash out the past? There’s no time for that. How does one go back in time that far and unpack all the feelings one stumbled into then, in any kind of rational way? It would get messy. Ugly. Mean.
Even that little thought spikes an irrational, unacceptable anger inside me. I cannot hate this woman and fuck her at the same time. That’s not who I am.
From the moment she kissed me, I let all those old feelings go.
We make choices, and this is mine.
Ellie. Here. Now.
I seduce her in the shower. Lingering strokes, firm pressure. Squeezes all over. The side of her neck, the tight trap leading to her shoulder. Her sensitive spots on her sides, the tops of her thighs, then down her legs.
Back up again, this time with my mouth.
When we climb out, I dry her off, then tangle my hands in her hair, holding her head as I bring our mouths together. Her lips fit perfectly against mine, parting for me.
I explore her entire body with careful thoroughness, holding back the beast inside of me that wants to just gorge itself on the taste of her pussy.
It’s been too long.
But tonight, either because of fatigue or sympathy or both, Ellie’s gone soft for me, and I want to match that for her. Show her that the man, when stripped out of the suit, is just as human as the rest.
Or at least I hope I am. It’s been far too long since I’ve even tried.
I don’t put my mouth to her pussy until she’s begging for it, and I lick her through two orgasms before I slide into her tightness.
When I finish, her name on my lips, she gets rid of the condom and tucks me into bed.
Her hand drifts across my chest, warm and soft, and my eyelids drift shut. I’m not ready for what tomorrow is going to bring. It’s all too close, too raw, and far too dangerous for my liking. We both need our rest, but I’m terrified that when I wake up, she’ll be gone.
