Page 110 of Wicked Sins

She waves at me. I think it’s meant to come across as glib, but instead, she just seems desperate to change the subject.

“It sounded like he was talking to his lawyer or something.” Her eyes are back on the window as the rain starts splatting against the glass.

I push up onto my elbows. “Uncle Quinten?”

She shrugs. “He said they were asking him all these questions about—” She glances at me over her shoulder, and then faces away again, “—about Emma.”

Discrepancies.

Why would he lie?

The same reason he keeps that top drawer locked—there are some things better left unknown. Sick, dirty urges better left in the dark where they belong.

She’s toying with her hair again, but a small section has come undone. It lays along her spine, shifting as she talks.

I want nothing more than to smooth it away and tuck it back into her braid.

My cock throbs, and I realize I’m shoving it into my lap. Before I can take my hand away, Candy looks back at me.

She frowns. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

Crazier than me? I almost laugh. Her eyes dart down to the hand in my lap. Then up to my face. As if she’s only just realized she might be interrupting, she bobs up to her feet.

She’s not wearing a bra, and that sudden movement makes her tits bounce.

“I’m probably just imagining it,” she says half to herself, as she starts backing out of my room. But as if she’s too frightened of what will happen when she turns her back, she does it facing me. “I…I’ll go…”

“You’ll stay.”

She blinks, stopping in her tracks. Gives her head a tiny shake. And then squeals when lightning crashes mere yards away.

I can’t take it anymore. I’d been trying to get all this shit out of my head, but it all keeps flooding back in. It’s like I’m chained down on a carousel horse, destined to go around and around until someone stops the ride.

Candy can stop it.

She’d make the perfect distraction.

Her eyes are squeezed shut, her hands in fists by her face. That last one gave me a scare too, but I recover faster than her.

When she opens her eyes, I grab her.

“Hey!”

“Hey, yourself.”

Using the grip on her shoulders, I spin her around and push her onto the bed, face down. When I put my weight on her, she collapses under me with a surprised grunt.

Then she starts struggling.

I slide a hand under her hips and drag her ass into the air, molding my body against hers. Her yoga pants stretch tight against the perfect halves of her cheeks, cutting a ditch down the middle that darkens with shadow when it reaches her veiled pussy.

My cock slaps against that pink fabric when I take it out, and she instantly stiffens.

When she tries to push up, I shove her face back into the quilt with my hand on the back of her neck.

She could scream, but she doesn’t.

One little word, a single ‘no’, and I’d release her.

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