Page 58 of How May I Please You

“God I love seeing you this way,” Journey says, the look of lust beaming from her eyes like sun rays.

I smile back at her. “I know you do, Little One. I want you so much I can barely stand still right now.”

Journey gets up from the table and walks over to me, removing Summers’ gun from his holster before kissing me on the cheek. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, Baby Girl,” I reply.

“You two are insane,” Summers exclaims, his face twisted into a look of horror. “Do you think you're the new Bonnie & Clyde? This isn’t some old, gangster fairytale. The two of you will not escape this if you go down this road, and no amount of playing cops and robbers will save you. You're treating it like it’s a game when it’s not. Drop the goddamn knife and let me go.

“I can't believe I thought you were a good person, Monroe. I tried to help you but I can see that you're so much fucking crazier than I ever knew. You wear a mask around the precinct all day, hiding your true identity to the good officers you work with. You're no better than the criminals and thugs we haul in. You're one of them, not one of us. I see it now. I can see it in the way you look at him that there is no redeeming you. It’s clear that you're just as much of a murderer as he is.”

I let Summers finish his speech, listening with a smirk until he finally shuts the fuck up. Then, I lock eyes with Journey and tighten my grip.

“You’re right, Summers,” I say to him. “There’s no redeeming us … and there’s no saving you.”

I close my eyes and lean forward, placing my lips on Journey’s. We fall into a kiss that heats me up from toe to head, and while my tongue dances with hers, I flex my arm and drag the knife back and forth twice, gruesomely slitting Summer’s throat with the serrated blade.

His hands fly up to his neck, but there’s no stopping the gushing crimson tide. Blood spills between his fingers as he stands up, spinning around as if he's looking for help in an empty room. Journey and I don't even break stride, but I keep my eyes on him, watching him die as we continue kissing and Summers falls to his knees, his hands still clutching his throat. He gurgles like he’s drowning before going still, then the sound of his body hitting the floor plays in our ears like music.

When we pull apart, we look down on the dead body in the middle of our living room. His blood pours out and pools around his head, ruining our carpet. It doesn't matter. This was always the plan. All that matters to me is that I ended the man who lied to Journey and put out a warrant for my arrest. The fucking bitch who made it to where Journey and I can no longer live here is dead and gone.

Journey stares at her deceased partner—the second one who has died by my hands—and she smiles. “You did it.”

“For you,” I tell her. “Now I don't have to worry about him running out of the house while I do this.”

“Do what?”

No longer concerned about Summers, I place my hands on Journey’s hips as I step in front of her and lift her onto the dining room table. Once she’s on her butt, I place a hand on her chest and force her backwards until she’s lying down. I claw at her clothes, pushing her shirt up so I can have access to her skin, and I kiss her stomach while pulling her pants off. The second she’s naked from the waist down, I drop to my knees and plunge my mouth onto her pussy.

“Oh my fucking god,” she blares as her back arches on the table. Her hands quickly find the back of my head and clamp down.

I suck her luscious clit into my mouth and let my tongue walk all over it at the same time. Journey moans above me and it makes my cock as hard as a rock, leaving me no choice but to pull it out and stroke it while I devour her. I keep going, eating her pussy like a last meal while I fist my cock simultaneously. Journey lifts her head and sees what I’m doing and it sends her reeling.

“Oh god. Evan … Sir, you're so fucking perfect. Oh god watching you stroke your dick is going to make me come. Keep going. Keep stroking it. Oh fuck I’m close. Oh god. Sir, I’m about to come!”

“Come in my fucking mouth,” I say, just before Journey explodes down my throat. When I feel her wetness ignite, I follow her lead, shooting ropes of cum all over the floor in front of me.

Both of us erupt into screams and convulsions as we fall into bliss together. We tremble and cuss as our orgasms slowly subside, and then we fill the room with the sound of heavy breathing. I lean against Journey’s leg, panting as she stays on her back, her eyes closed as she sucks in air.

Once I'm settled, I look behind me and see Summers’ dead body. The blood seems to have stopped flowing and his eyes have taken on a look of vacancy as he stares eternally into nothingness. I smile at him, wishing he was still conscious enough to know what Journey and I just did to celebrate his death. He deserves to know that we’re glad he’s gone, and that he did nothing to water down our love. We’re unbreakable, and I’m glad he got to see it before he died. My smile is a mile wide, but a faint sound in the distance slowly melts it away.

Journey quickly lifts herself up onto her elbows, and her furrowed brow lets me know she hears it, too. “What is that?”

I scrunch my forehead as I turn to the window as if seeing outside will make me hear better, and tilt my head as both of us go dead quiet. I listen intently, slowly leaning back as the realization consumes my reality and darkens my vision. Panic fires to life in my heart when I turn around and find Journey wide-eyed. The sound is close enough now to be clearly understood by anyone who isn't dead.

Sirens.

thirty-seven

~ journey ~

“Summers wasn’t bluffing.”

I hear the words as they leave your mouth but I can barely believe them. After everything you’ve done to get us to this point, Summers has still gotten the upper hand on us. Even in death, with his throat viciously cut open, he is still winning and forcing us to scramble to keep up. He deserved every bit of pain that you inflicted on him, Sir. I love you for it, but thanks to his conniving I don't even have time to bask in it.

You don't have to say anything else for us both to know what we have to do next. The plan was to get Summers here and kill him before vanishing into the night. There was a brief second that I thought he might be smart enough to inform someone else that he was coming here to talk to me, but the warrant wasn’t for me. IA wanted to question me, but cops were never out trying to track me down so I thought I was in the clear. I’m angry, frustrated, and panicked as I nearly knock the table over trying to get off of it. I pull up my pants as you yank at yours, and we dart into the bedroom to grab the last pieces of our lives that we want to bring with us. Summers may have thrown a wrench into the plan but it’s not over yet. Only we know what’s next, and if we still want it we have to go now.

By the time we exit the room with a backpack full of necessities in each of our hands and run for the garage, the sirens sound like they’re right outside. What the fuck did Summers do? Let the entire precinct listen in on our conversation? Red and blue lights flash through the windows on the garage door as we jump into my car, and when our doors close, we stop. Our eyes meet and I can see the emotion in yours. This isn’t how all of this was supposed to happen. There were never supposed to be uniformed officers right outside our house. We were never supposed to have to run. It was supposed to be a quiet departure into the unknown and neither of us is confused about what will happen when we open the door behind us.

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