Page 67 of Insidious Heart
She always does, my baby dove so pure and perfect every second of the day, but that dress? The makeup? The fucking purple heels on her adorable little feet? I didn’t even bother hiding the boner I got when she came through those over the top double doors, and I even poked Pope a few times with it when I noticed how grossed out he was.
He wrongfully assumed I was turned on because we’d just come from the dressing room. The walking blasphemy, myself, and our favorite Goliath Birdeater were prepping the dancers for tonight’s company, but Pope couldn’t have been more incorrect if he started thinking I wanted to banghim. And while the stoic son of a bitch is pretty, he’s not really my type, which is why I settled for making him uncomfortable as hell by poking him with my dick whenever he was close enough to do it until the thing finally deflated.
And that took longer than it should have, all considering, since Stevie looks good enough to eat tonight.
God, I want to eat her pussy.
It has been way too long since I’ve feasted on my favorite meal, far too long since I’ve seen her naked body or felt it against my own as I sunk myself deep inside her warmth.
She’s had Cal Moreland’s boys all week, taking care of them as if they shared blood, and aside from a very risky visit two nights ago where we shared a quick kiss while I grabbed her tit via the death trap trellis outside her window as the royal punks slept, I’ve had absolutely no contact with Stevie and it’s eating me alive.
Have I still been watching her? Hell yes I have, but knowing she had King and Prince at the house, along with an army’s worth of morons guarding her, meant I could focus more on her asshat father and the serial killer moving in on my turf.
So, I’ve given my sweet little dove some space by traipsing around El Paso County after Beau the Butcher while he met with Jesus multiple times, looked at a few shipping containers at a construction site, made a couple rather large drug deals with some Sons of Odin fucker—apparently that’s an MC out of L.A. and Little John is making a few calls for me because he knowseveryoneto ever ride a crotch rocket—then took off out of Colorado all together with Cal and his crew. Where they went is still a little unclear, but I know it was California and I can only assume it had something to do with SoOMC.
For the most part, I don’t need to follow Beau Williams all over creation.
El Paso County shit? Sure, yeah, I need to keep tabs close to home so I can figure out when to kill him. And I have to admit—even though I hate it—it’s been harder to plan that with how often Beauregard is gone and the seemingly sporadic lack of routine he’s had.
But that’s nothing to worry about.
If I feel like making things as boring as they can possibly be, I could sneak into Stevie’s room when her shitbag father is home, fuck her once or twice then tiptoe down the hall and slit his throat while he sleeps. That literally sucks all the fun out of it for me but my job would be done and I’d have my little dove all to myself.
Damn, she smells good tonight.
I bury my nose in Stevie’s hair as I breathe the scent of Christmas, my eyes closing briefly while my grip on her tightens. I let the peppermint and cookie smells fill my lungs and just when my cock remembers who this woman is and how happy she makes him, that’s when my girl remindsmewho I’m dealing with.
Stevie squirms in my arms for a second before she stomps on my foot, the heel of her shoe catching just right between the laces of my boot to stab the spike into the top of my foot. I grit my teeth as she twists a few times for good measure, successfully loosening my hold, and the moment she realizes it, Stevie pulls her arm free and delivers an elbow to the gut that actually has me doubling over a bit.
There’s that feisty side I knew she was hiding.
“Jesus,” I grunt, holding my stomach with a half-grimace, half-smirk on my face. One that turns into a full blown grin when I look up in time to see Stevie spin away from me, her bright blue eyes wild as they blink frantically against the darkness.
“Victor?” She huffs, standing in some weird kung fu position like she’s about to karate chop my ass into next week. “Oh my god.”
I chuckle as I straighten up. “Who were you expecting, Mrs. Miyagi? The boogeyman maybe?” The fight drains from my little dove, her shoulders drooping, and her body going lax. “If that were the case, I think you found who you were looking for.”
Instead of the usual smile I get, or any other expression I was hoping to see, Stevie scowls at me and crosses her arms against her chest. “I wasn’t looking for anyone.”
“No? Not even little old me?”
“No.”
“You sure about that, baby dove? I was watching you, and you definitely seemed like you were searching for someone.” I lean against the wall and look her up and down, my gaze drinking in those purple pumps I’m going to have fantasies about for the rest of my life, Stevie’s long slender legs, and the knee-length dress that hugs her body in all the right places. My eyes lift to her face and I find myself wishing she’d push her hair back so I could see everything. Especially those aquamarine eyes and her dusky pink lips but they aren’t hidden enough for me to miss the scowl she’s still sporting.
Which makes me frown.
Stevie gave me the same look while we were at the bar.
She smiled first, giving me a glimpse of the smile I always get, but it quickly morphed into whatever this is before I was rudely pulled away from her.
I thought maybe it was because Pope and Ham Hock were taking me away but looking at the same expression now, I can’t imagine that was it. And unfortunately for me, I’m shit when it comes to reading people’s emotions and the reasons for them.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve mastered the art of understanding body language and figuring out someone’s tells. Stalking my prey the way I do means learning everything I can about them from sight alone but that’s not the same. Knowing some serial rapist is getting nervous by the number of times he clears his throat isn’t the same as figuring out why the woman I’ve been obsessing over is looking at me like she wants to kick me in the balls—it’s not even close.
But I only have so much time with Stevie before someone starts looking for one of us, and that means I need to figure this shit out real quick or else my efforts to be alone with her will be in vain.
Stevie huffs again. “I can assure you, I was only trying to find the bathroom.”
