Page 15 of Ruthless Riches
4
Nate
Twenty minutes later,Alexis and I were cruising up the highway, listening to the rain pattering on the windshield.
Edith’s husband was expecting us for coffee at their house soon. They lived in a quaint little northern town which was nestled in a valley below a world-famous grove of ancient fir trees. The winding road that led there was lined with the same firs, cutting off any views of the nearby city and giving the place an air of rugged isolation.
Alexis stared out the window as I drove, cheeks slightly flushed as she drummed a fingertip on her lap. Jesus, she was beautiful. So fucking perfect.
She moved her hand to scratch an itch on her thigh. I flattened my lips and looked away as I pictured the faint pink scars beneath her jeans.
I still felt crushing amounts of remorse whenever I remembered what I’d done to her in the past. How I’d thought of her, spoken to her, treated her. I knew she’d forgiven me now, but it didn’t change my feelings on the matter. Every time I thought about it, I’d recall something my father told me when I was a kid: Forgiveness is giving someone the gift of forgetting.
I could never forget what I did. I could never forgive myself, either. But I could take the memories of that dark, sordid past and use them to make myself better for her. That was the way forward, the way through the darkness. The only way to properly earn the forgiveness Alexis had offered me.
She wasn’t my damnation, even if I felt I deserved it. She was my salvation.
Now I wanted to be the same for her. Help her chase away all her demons.
That was the only reason I’d agreed to let us get sucked into investigating the new Butcher case, even if it meant flinging ourselves headfirst into the path of danger. I could tell it was killing Alexis to sit around all day, trying her best not to think about it.
Her old nightmares had returned to haunt her, too. She’d been plagued by them since she was a kid—dark, distorted visions where she was the Butcher herself, locking people away and carving them up. Sometimes she’d even talk in her sleep, begging her imaginary victims for forgiveness.
In the past, I would’ve taken those dreams and sleep-talk confessions as proof of evil flowing through her veins. A sign of guilt. Now I knew better. They were caused by stress and trauma.
The original Butcher case had been a part of her life since she was nine years old. After her father was accused of the murders, she and the rest of her family were made to feel guilty by proxy, so it made sense that the guilt manifested itself into twisted nightmares where she was actually responsible for the murders.
Now, the existence of the copycat Butcher was bringing it all back for her; those demons she’d fought so hard to rid herself of in the past. I had to help her get rid of them again, and part of that mission involved finding the copycat Butcher and ending his reign of terror over Avalon.
Alexis wouldn’t feel safe or happy until that happened. She needed this investigation, and I needed it because she needed it.
I glanced back over at her. Her cheeks were tinged with a deeper shade of pink now, and she was drumming her fingertip even faster on her lap. She was obviously excited about what Edith’s husband might have to tell us; that exhilarating possibility of a new lead.
The expression on her face heated my blood. She was breathtaking when she was excited about something.
She tilted her head and gave me a faint smile. “Why do you keep looking at me?”
“Because you’re excited,” I said, taking one hand off the steering wheel to grab her left hand. “And you look sexy as fuck when you’re excited.”
The stroke of her finger along the side of my palm seized all my senses, and I bit back a groan. I pulled her hand further to the left and placed it on my lap so she could feel the growing hardness there. “See? That’s how sexy you are.”
She bit her bottom lip and parted her legs a little. “You know, it kinda turns me on to see you turned on.”
“Fuck… don’t tell me that,” I said in a low voice, focusing on the rain-streaked road ahead.
“Why?”
“Because it makes me want to pull this car over and fuck your brains out, and I can’t.”
“Can you pull over anyway?” she asked, hand still resting on my lap. “There’s a rest stop right there.”
I did as she asked—I’d never say no to her—and swung a right into the rest stop.
I expected Alexis to get out and stretch her legs. Instead she leaned over and unzipped my pants. At the same time, her lips captured mine in a raw, carnal kiss.
I groaned and kissed her deeper, stealing everything her mouth had to offer. Then I raised my palms and gently pushed on her chest. “Hey,” I muttered. “As much as I’d love to fuck you right now, I really can’t. Doctor’s orders, remember?”
Stopping myself from tearing her clothes off, dragging her into the back seat, and bending her pert ass over was killing me. Fucking killing me. But I couldn’t do it. Sex was too strenuous for her body to handle right now. Especially the kind of sex I was picturing. Rough, dirty, primal.
