Page 23 of Holy Sinner

“That’s it, shy girl. Let us hear how good he’s making you feel,” Rafe encourages me, continuing to squeeze my breasts. I gasp when he bites down on my shoulder and I know he drew blood from the sting of it. He sucks hard on my shoulder and that sends me falling through my aftershocks into another orgasm.

“Yes, oh fuck-please,” I beg. My voice is broken and hoarse and I don’t know what I’m begging for. Grant must, though. He always knows what I need. He gives my clit one last stroke of his tongue and then he’s up and moving. Rafe moves with him and lets my legs go but it’s only to haul me up against him so that he supports my head and neck against his chest.

“Grant,” I whisper when my lover pushes my legs wide and lifts my hips to meet him. The light that filters into our bedroom shows me the perfection of his body. The hard lines of his muscles fit against my curves as he fucks into me. He sets a steady rhythm, the thrust of his hips and stretch of his cock inside of me is exactly what I need and I can feel another orgasm building. My belly clenches from the exhilaration of it and it's with a smile on my face that I sob his name.

“Oh, Grant, yes.”

I can’t touch him because Rafe has my hands in one of his. He cups my cheek with his free hand and kisses me softly. “That’s it, shy girl. Fuck him. I know you love it when he fucks you like this, don’t you?”

Grant rocks forward, the snap of his hips against me adds more punch to my answer when I gasp out a strangled, “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Rafe growls and the hand on my cheek moves to cut off my air. Rafe’s hand tightens on my neck. “Answer me, princess.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I sob and I see his smile flash before he leans down and kisses me hungrily. Desire and need spike hot and heavy in me and I open my mouth to him and hook my legs around Grant’s waist. There’s nothing else to do but surrender to my men while they take what they want from me.

Chapter Twelve

GRANT

Ithought about bringing Kit’s knives with me to gut this Aaron Jamie douche but decided against it. I’d rather she be the one to use them the first time and if anything goes wrong, it wouldn’t take a ton of digging for someone to find the metalsmith that made them for us. I’ll finish Aaron Jamie on my own, with my own knives. It’s sunny out in Seattle, which feels like a miracle but I’d prefer the rain. People don’t pay as close attention when the weather is bad, they’re focused on themselves and getting inside, not who they pass on the street.

“It feels so good!” A girl runs out in front of me and stretches her arms out. She turns her face up to the sky and sighs with a happy smile. She has the same innocent look my sister gets when she’s happy. It doesn’t take a lot to make Elise happy, though. She would definitely be spinning in circles on the sidewalk over the sun if she was here.

“Let’s stay outside today. All day!” Her friend says and joins her with her arms over her head. She lifts a hand to shield her eyes as she soaks up the sun.

Forget the bad weather, the sun is going to do the trick for me today. No one is going to look twice at me if they’re worshiping the sun. A perfect day for murdering a deadbeat. I keep walking, keeping a careful eye on the people I pass and sure enough no one looks at me. They’re busy taking selfies or basking in the sun.

I pull my ball cap down lower, adjust my aviators and stay focused. Aaron Jamie’s apartment building is just up ahead. It’s in a decent part of town but the building is older, more run down than the rest, which is a plus. Places like this don’t normally spring for security cameras. I slow my steps and pretend I’m taking a selfie of the sun like everyone else and scan the front of the building. It’s only three stories and hasn’t been remodeled since the nineties, if the wavy cube glass of the storefront on the bottom floor is anything to go by. There's not a camera in sight, just a banged up door that sits opposite a speaker and a list of names. I get close and scan the names. A second later I see the one I’m here for.

It could only be the fucker with two first names that uses them to make one fucking normal name. A.J.- Apartment 17, 3rd floor is scribbled in Sharpie next to the intercom but I don’t bother hitting the buzzer because someone is coming out. I catch the door before it swings shut and walk inside the building. It’s dark and cool here and I have to let my eyes adjust after the bright morning sunlight before I head up to the third floor. I listen closely for sounds from the other people in the building to try and gauge just how much someone will be able to hear when I rip dear old A.J. 's shitty head off. I’m surprised at how little I hear. Only dull music thumping and the slam of a door here and there as I walk up the narrow staircase is promising. The walls aren’t paper thin and I feel a little of what the girl spinning in the sun felt when I see the apartment door I want come into view.

I don’t fuck around scoping the hallway. I walk right up to the door. There isn’t a soul around when I knock on the door and step to the side to wait.

A normal person wouldn’t open the fucking door because of a mysterious knock or the fact that when A.J. looks through the peephole of his apartment the only thing he’s gonna see is half of my face hidden by my hat.

“I don’t know. It was a woman! She didn’t let me see her face and she had a voice changer.”

But he’s not normal. He’s the kind of person that makes a living off of stolen moments. He’s a bottom feeder that uses pictures of people that matter to pay for this rundown little apartment. That means he’s going to fucking open the door. He wouldn’t want to miss a hot tip or connection with someone able to line his pockets. I start counting the seconds and I get as far as twenty before I hear the chain slide and the door opens just an inch.

He’s on high alert after last night. Turns out, just because Aaron Jamie has two first names, he’s not a fucking idiot.

“What do you want?” Aaron Jamie says. I can hear him trying to be tough but it doesn’t work that well because his voice shakes. He’s nervous.

“I’ve got a lead. Think you might want it. It’s from her.”

We both know the her I mean. The bitch with the voice changer. I don’t even have to hint at a big pay out to get him to open the door.

The door opens and I hear him shuffle to the side. “Come in.”

I pull on my leather gloves as I enter the apartment and scan the space. It’s small, cramped with too big furniture and shitty, stained carpet. Nobody is gonna even think about trying to get the blood out when I’m done with Aaron.

He’s going to just be one more shit stain on a carpet that should have been ripped out a decade earlier.

Aaron’s back is to me when I close the door behind me and lock it. He freezes and looks over his shoulder at me when he hears the lock click.

“Why did you do that?” he asks and the dumb fuck is looking at the door and not me.

I lower my glasses and the movement pulls his eyes to me. “I could ask you the same thing about last night.”

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