Page 29 of Overcast

And we can add that right underneath this great fucking idea.

Don’t get me wrong—I’d love to fuck this woman. But under different circumstances that didn’t include an attempted homicide and falsehoods looming off her frame.

I enjoy her pleas as it is, though, I have an odd feeling that I’d become drugged by her sighs and cries while I’m balls deep inside her. How much pleasure I’d take in hovering over her and taking what I want.

What she would want.

She obviously revels in getting off, don’t need the reminder on how I found her, and I know for a fact I can make her see more stars than she ever has with Hollis.

And with just that thought, I wish to rebel back and away from her.

“I gave you answers,” she mumbles. “I told you what I know. It’s not—” I’m instantly in her face, inches away from her lips because she needs to stop lying to me. To quit with the bullshit act of portraying herself as sinlessness in—again—what I saw.

How many times do I need to say it?

She was literally caught in the act. There is no denying what she did. Only one response of who she works for, where they met, a phone number, any fucking thing would help me.

“But not the most important one, sweetheart,” I ground out in the softest tone I can manage. “Who hired you or Hollis to kill Reagan Lockwood?”

“I don’t—”

“Know, you said that,” I reply through my teeth. “Give me something, anything.” I loathe the way my words come out forlorn. That she knows she holds answers that I lack.

“Hollis is a dirty piece of shit.”

“Need more than that.”

“That I’m not surprised.”

My brows knit together. “About what?”

“That he’s done something to another woman.” She averts her eyes from me. “That he tried to hurt someone.”

“Stormi.” She hesitantly trails her attention back to me. “Reagan Lockwood, why were you there?”

“Where?”

“At the lake.”

“I wasn’t at a lake.”

Oh, my fucking God, I’m going to lose my shit.

“I saw you.”

She sways her head back and forth slowly. “It wasn’t me.”

“Trust me when I say...I saw your body running away. Can’t forget it.” Especially when my buddies upstairs put the idea that I should seduce and screw the replies out of her.

“I don’t believe you,” she says simply. “And there is no evidence that I was there.”

“Except for the fact that my twenty-twenty vision picked you up.”

“Were you drunk?”

My eyes narrow. “No.”

“Did you take a picture?”

“Yeah, because I have a camera attached to my ass.”

“Then you didn’t see me.” Her gaze narrows in slightly on me. The first piece of indication that I’ve seen off her. “I have a feeling that you’re not seeing anything right now for what it is.”

“I only witnessed it first hand.” I pull back, then rise from my haunches. “You’re just proving my original reaction when it came to you. Everything you’ve spilled is a load of bullshit. And I don’t need you anymore.”

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