“Evening, jock strap. Do you not own an umbrella?” He was dripping water all over my clean hardwood, and I grimaced as he eased past me, and I closed the door. Way to kill the mood. What an asshole. Why do I do this to myself?
“Sorry. Should I have left the car running, or did you want me to tuck you in tonight?”
I crossed my arms and shot him a middle finger as I leaned my back against the door. “You trying to get your dick wet, or just piss me off?” He grinned and winked at me, spotting the candles around the house.
“You do that for me?”
“Not really.”
It wasn’t a whole lie.
Kit shrugged his jacket off and tossed it, much to my irritation, onto one of my bar chairs. I paid good for those velvet beauties. Is nothing fucking sacred? He used to be a jock. Played football and basketball junior and senior year. They’re always closet freaks. They just don’t want other people to know it. The most vain you’ve ever met. But he’s got strong hands. They feltgood when he closed the space, pinning me against the door and ran them up the front of my cami. His face was wet with rain, but I don’t mind it so much. He’s always been a decent kisser, too.
“It’s been a while. This might not take long. Fair warning.”
I started undoing his belt and bit his lower lip, tugging it into my mouth. “Thanks for the heads up.” I popped his button and pulled the zipper down, and he had just started sliding my shorts down when a knock at the door nearly made me shit myself. By the looks of it, nearly made Kit shit himself, too.
“Somebody coming to watch?”
“Oh, my God. Would you shut up? You better be naked when I get to that bed.”
He grinned and took off towards my bedroom, and I did my best to straighten myself back up before turning to answer the door…but when I opened it…
“Hello?”
I looked back and forth, finding no one in the hallway, but there was a manila envelope laying in front of the door. I reached down to pick it up and it was completely blank. No recipient…no return address.
The fuck?
I shut the door and bent the little tabs, opening it, and nearly puked when I pulled out several still shots of me bagging bodies in one room, and standing with my hands on my hips next to Conor’s bloody chair. My breathing kicked up and my face tingled, but nothing prepared me for the message on the back of the photo.
MAKE HIM LEAVE…OR I WILL.
Oh, no.Hellno.
I stuffed the pictures back into the envelope and tossed them on the counter, bolting for the windows that faced the street. I didn’tseeanything amiss, but to be fair, it’s dark now. And raining. Not to mention, my adrenaline is pumping through me like lit gasoline, and I fear…I might have my way after all when it comes to Greg dying first. Either by a heart attack, or the psychopath that’s apparently watching me from outside.
I stalked over to the bar chair, grabbing Kit’s wet jacket, no longer giving a shit about the floor. He was, indeed, naked when I shoved my way into my bedroom, and didn’t bother to get under the sheets. I’m almost sad I don’t get to have my quick joyride on thatveryhappy appendage. I threw his coat over it just to keep myself from staring and salivating over it.
“Sorry, Kit. You gotta go. Rain check, okay?” I bent over, walking around the bed while I picked up everything he stripped out of.
“You serious? I backed outta poker for this, Sev!”
“Not my problem, chief,” I snapped, piling his clothes next to his naked thigh. “You’ve been here five minutes. Maybe it’s not too late.”
“Come on, dude. What am I supposed to do withthis?” He gestured towards the tent in his lap, and I inwardly whined.
“I’ve heard if you flick your balls or think of something gross, it’ll take care of the problem. You could try politeness, or practically anything pleasant. That might work.”
“You’re such a cunt sometimes, Seven. Seriously. You call, I show up. You decide you’re done? I leave. I don’t ask questions or beg for more. I’m always here. Rain or shine. You honestly gonna send me packin’ with a stiff cock?”
As if I couldn’t feel any worse.
“Sorry, dude. Not tonight.” I stood against my bathroom doorway with my arms tight across my chest while he gawked atme in disappointment for a few seconds before getting up and putting his clothes back on while heading for the door.
“Don’t hit me up again. I’m fuckin’ done.”
I didn’t move. As soon as the door slammed, I ran for it, sliding the chain lock and deadbolting it. My chest heaved and I couldn’t swallow around the ball of cotton in my throat when my personal cell buzzed on the kitchen counter. I padded warily to it as the screen went dark and felt my stomach churning. It took me a good five minutes before I gathered the nerve to read the text.
