Page 18 of Wicked Devotions: Part 2

“You don’t know who handed it to you?” Cyrus looks back and forth between Emilia and me.

“The guy who handed it to me said it came from behind him. There’s no way to know who it originated from.”

He looks up and around the room for a minute before looking back at me. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

I give Emilia a hug as we exit the building and go in opposite directions and promise to call her later and explain everything. Or at least, as much as I can. I’ll probably talk to the guys and maybe Cillian and Mom first.

Cyrus leads me to where he parked his Ducati and hands me my helmet. I take his empty backpack and fold it up inside mine while he gets on and waits for me to climb on the back. As soon as I’m situated, he takes my arms and wraps them tightly around his stomach.

The rain stopped while I was in class, but parts of the road are still wet, so he doesn’t drive as fast as he usually does. He does reach back and rub my thigh at every opportunity though. I know he’s probably just checking in with me to make sure I’m good, but it still gives me butterflies every time. I never thought I’d be the type of girl to love riding on a motorcycle, but it’s almost as much fun as riding Annie.

Speaking of my horse, it’ll be too muddy to take her out for a ride, but I can’t wait to get to the barn anyway. I wish I could go now, but even if I had a vehicle that was totally my own, I don’t think the guys would let me go anywhere without one of them. Even though I’m plenty safe at the stables.

Cy is unusually quiet as we get off his bike and walk into the house. I can tell his mind is somewhere else, probably on the note or maybe even whatever happened the other night with his uncle. As soon as I set my helmet down on the shelf in the mudroom, I feel Cy lift my backpack off my shoulders. I squeak as he spins me around and pins me against the wall.

His lips cover mine in a bruising kiss. He traces my lips with the barbell in his tongue. The sensation sends familiar heat racing right to my clit. I know exactly how good he is with that particular piercing.

“If I didn’t have to turn around and leave right now, I’d bend you over right here and fucking feast on your pussy,” he saysagainst my lips. “You’re ours.” He pulls away and looks into my eyes. “You know that, right? You’re ours as much as we’re yours. And you’re in no way a whore.”

I nod, fighting back the shame that I know will wash over me as soon as I’m alone.

“When we figure out who is sending these letters, I’m going to kill him.”

I blink, surprised at the ferocity of his declaration. It doesn’t sound like hyperbole. It sounds like a promise.

“Emerson is on his way home now. I trust that you’ll be a good girl and not leave the house until he’s here to drive you to work?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” he says with a wink. “We’ll talk about everything over dinner.”

“Okay.” I give him another kiss goodbye and watch as he takes back off, driving much more like he usually does now that I’m not riding with him.

I go up to my room to change and roll my eyes when I go to close the door and there’s nothing there. I had been planning on demanding my door back tonight, but now that there’s been another threat, I know it’s not the right time. At this rate, I’ll never get it back.

Emerson gets home right as I finish buttoning up my flannel uniform shirt. It’s nice that the stables have these for us, especially flannel options because, as a southern girl, anything below seventy degrees feels cold to me.

He stops at my door on the way to his room. “Let me drop off the books I don’t need and then I’ll be ready.”

“Okay,” I answer with a smile. “I’ll be downstairs.”

Annie sticksas much of her face as she can into her bucket, trying to get the last few grains out. Her coat had been dull when Declan gave her back to me, but with the feed I’ve been buying, she’s back to being in the best condition possible. Her long, black tail swishes happily as she crunches away at her dinner.

I run my hand along her flank, admiring how gorgeous she is. If I could come out here every day and see her, I would. As it is, getting out here three or four times a week is a challenge.

She turns to watch me from the corner of her eye as I begin to brush out her mane. There are a few pieces of hay and some tangles I want to get rid of before I go. She’s a bit of a princess, though, and loves being groomed, so I never worry about her getting upset.

“Are you liking it here?” I ask her quietly. “Do they treat you well when I’m not around?”

She nods, which I knew she would. Any time I speak directly to her she nods. It’s just her horsey personality; she can be a goofy girl when it’s just us two.

“Did she just answer your question?” Emerson asks from the other side of the stall door.

“She sure did,” I answer, curious if I can make him think she’s actually talking to me. “She’s a good listener, aren’t you girl?” I scratch under her chin as her ears flatten at the sight of him.

“She always looks so pissed when I start talking.”

His observation is correct, her ears flatten around most men. Declan has gotten her to take cookies from him, and she’s let Cy pet her, but she never let Banks come near her back in high school. She seems to feel similarly about Emerson.

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