Page 71 of Insidious Heart
“I wasn’t expecting that.” Stevie sighs as she turns her head and looks up at me.
“No?”
“Not even a little.”
I smirk. “I was.” Stevie rolls her eyes but then they widen as I lift my fingers to my lips and suck them into my mouth, licking her cum from them until I’m satisfied. “I was expecting that and more to be honest, but I’ll take any piece of you I can get.”
“But what about…” She looks down at my fully erect, painfully hard cock straining against my fly as she pushes herself off of me. “You can’t go back out there like that.”
“I’ll be fine,” I say—even though I won’t—then move to fix Stevie’s dress. “We don’t have time for anything else, I’m sure people are already looking for us.” A dickhead looking for her, a walking blasphemy looking for me. “Gremlin mode is officially deactivated until the next time I get you alone. That’s when I’ll fuck you six ways from Sunday and make sure you’re walking funny the rest of the week.”
Stevie blushes but gives me a beautiful smile as she pushes up on her toes and kisses me more sweetly than I deserve. “Can’t wait.”
“Me either.” I give her another hard kiss then grin. “My balls are going to be so blue they could pass as Scrotum Smurf.”
My sweet little dove laughs as she finishes righting her clothes, the sound making my heart flip in my chest.
Which is weird, but whatever.
It’s probably just the lack of blood and oxygen going to my head since it’s all currently in my cock.
Might even mean I’m going to go into cardiac arrest and die by blue balls.
It’s worth it though.
Fingering her pussy until she comes, seeing her smile and hearing her laugh, all because Stevie really is mine? I’d die a thousand blue ball deaths just to experience those things whenever I can.
Andthatis more fucked up than any other thought that’s crossed my mind in over thirty years on the planet.
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
VICTOR
Sack-linski.
I chuckle to myself as I watch AnthonySalinksistruggle to unlock his front door from my vantage point, which is currently up the tree in his neighbors side yard.
They’re on vacation, so it’s fine.
Salinski sorts through the keys on his ring before settling on one, forcibly rams it into the deadbolt, curses under his breath as he jiggles it in the lock then yanks it free and starts all over again.
He’s been trying to get into his goddamn house for the last fifteen minutes and I’mthisfucking close to hopping down, breaking in through the side—again—and letting him in myself. But patience is a virtue, and I really need this kill.
I’m still all keyed up after finger-fucking Stevie because my plan to jerk off in the bathroom before rejoining the walking blasphemy by the dressing rooms at The Dollhouse took a sharp turn mere seconds after my little dove walked away.
First, Elias came flying past me with his Glock drawn while he barked orders into his ear piece.
Naturally drawn to chaos, I took off after him to find Marbles and Beau in the middle of a knock-down-drag-out in the center of the main floor, the Kings’ VP screaming all kinds of creative obscenities as he attempted to bash The Butcher’s head in with a broken table leg. Beauregard wasn’t out of the fight by any means, though, because the greasy bastard had a knife in one hand and a gun in the other while he spit his own colorful words.
After watching them for a couple seconds, my thoughts immediately turned to Stevie and I started searching for her, only to find Cal Moreland and about four other Demon Seeds boxing her and Ember in behind the bar.
The level of relief I felt when I saw her, the way my breath whooshed out of me at the sight of her safe and unharmed—and looking rather annoyed, honestly—I don’t even want to acknowledge those potentialfeelingsor why I was experiencing them. I did have them, though, and there’s no changing it.
So I shot her a wink, got a barely hidden smile in return, then went back to watching the shitshow play out in front of me.
Up until Spider got involved, anyway.
He’s a docile human, nearly as stoic as Pope and far less confrontational, but if you piss off that Goliath Birdeater, all bets are off.
