Page 82 of Cutter

And she did. She took her sweet time, torturing him with her slow up-and-down slides. Giving him a taste of the punishment he’d inflicted on her. At the top, she squeezed his crown, and at the bottom, she rubbed her pussy on him. On and on, she pumped.

Guessing his excitement had reached critical mass, on the final descent, she writhed side to side and around, tightening her internal muscles.

Emily had him. The stimulus was hers to give, and he could only follow where she went. As she pulsed around his cock, milking his orgasm, Cutter gave her every bit of his release.

Chapter Sixteen

Cutter awoke with a start. He squinted, adapting to the darkness in the room, and rolled onto his side. In the shadows, he distinguished Emily’s bundled form under the covers. Funny, she’d started out glued to him. In her sleep, she’d rolled away. Careful and moving slowly to avoid disturbing her, he lay back down.

Not a second had passed before the need to pee had him up again. He padded to the bathroom. Out of consideration for Emily, he closed the door to drown out the sound of relieving himself. Once he’d finished and washed his hands, he tiptoed toward the bed, looking at his sweet girl…

He held his breath. The bundle on the bed was all wrong. At first glance, he hadn’t detected it, but now he realized the pillow was missing, the middle was too exaggerated, and the legs were ridiculously short. Growling, he pulled back the covers. The pillow and sheets had been piled together to give some kind of human form.

Enough to delude him.

A burning knife plunged into his back. At least that’s how it felt as the hard pieces of truth, a grotesque row of dominoes, fell on his head, revealing Emily’s game.

God. He’d been so ashamed when he’d thought the worst of her.No,he’d told himself. Emily didn’t have a conniving bone in her body.

Perching at the edge of the bed, he buried his face into his hands. The joke was on him. He didn’t know her at all. With her deceitful actions, she’d told Cutter which priorities mattered and the truth of her feelings.

Devastation, deep and scorching, pummeled him. An iron fist squeezed his throat. He’d never experienced such pain and heartrending disappointment in his life. He’d given himself utterly to her, body and soul, nothing held back, no piecemeal offering, and she…

The bust.

The motherfucking investigation had consumed her mind and common sense. That’s where Emily had gone, to meet up with Captain Weaver because she couldn’t stay away or obey Cutter’s orders. Foolish woman. In her inexperience, she was exposing herself to danger and to losing her relationship.

Are you going to sit here the rest of the night? You said it. She’s in danger.

Well, he could always perform one last futile act, then get out of Dodge, leaving her to manage life in whichever way it suited her best.

His heart still aching, he dressed, putting on the Devils’ Spawn cut. He was wearing colors to this mess, announcing his allegiance. Pulling out his SIG and two magazines from his nightstand drawer, he loaded one into the gun, then stuffed the gun in the back of his waistband. He dropped the second magazine into the inside pocket of his cut. The other guys had made fun of him for this peculiarity. He always said one day it would prove useful. Here was that day.

Cutter walked to his living room and stopped dead in his tracks. Emily, fully dressed, sat on his sofa.

“What are you doing out here?” he growled.

“I couldn’t go through with it.”

“Tell me.” He crossed his arms.

She sighed. “I’m a terrible person. My plan was to leave you sleeping and meet up with the captain.”

“I noticed. The bundle wasn’t too bad.”

“But.” She stood. “I couldn’t go through with it. I thought of you and me and what my deception would do to us.”

“Would kill us, that’s for sure. I was already digging our grave.”

“Right.” She touched his arm. “Most importantly, you don’t deserve my duplicity. I sat here, hoping you’d wake up.”

“Why?”

“So I could ask you to take me.”

“To the bust?”

“Yes,” she whispered. He stared at her in disbelief. She couldn’t let go of this investigation. It consumed her, was as important to her as breathing.

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