Page 13 of Lust

This guy is not your usual God loving do-gooder. He looks like me when I’m not preaching the good Lord’s word, and I doubt he’s here to confess his sins, of which I’m sure he has plenty. Certain he’s not going to talk to me, I consider what to tell him while noticing his bruised knuckles.

“He will be back later today. Early evening, I believe.”

He watches me carefully for a moment as though I’m lying. “Guess I’ll come back later then,” he drawls before spinning on his heel and marching back the way he came.

I follow silently, letting him exit the main doors fully before I crack open the door. The street is busy, but it doesn’t take me long to spot him hurrying toward the train station. I track him all the way to the entrance, then as though he can sense me watching him, he looks back at the church. With the setting of the sun, casting the church in shadow, and the door partially blocking me from view, I doubt he can see me. A second later he vanishes inside the station.

Heading back inside, I consider whether it would be worth sticking around once Amos arrives and see if the guy comes back, but while I’m curious as fuck to know who he is and whathe wants with Amos, Blake and I need to discuss our chances of breaking into Kincaid’s home to nosy around.

Blake isn’tin when I get home just after six. I make quick work of unbuttoning my shirt and ripping the suffocating white collar free, tossing it aside, then throw on some joggers and a tee. I grab a beer and settle on the sofa.

Ten minutes later the front door opens.

“Hi, honey, I’m home,” Blake singsongs as he enters. “I bring food,” he adds as he steps into the open plan living room-kitchen, carrying takeout from the chinese up the road.

I shake my head as he places the bags down on the kitchen top. Leaving my beer on the coffee table, I make my way to him. He smells of soap and given his clothes aren’t covered in dust, he’s obviously been home and showered and changed from work before grabbing dinner. When we relocated here, Blake was able to score some construction work on a new high rise, not that money is an issue. This flat is nothing like our house back home, but it will do while we are here.

“So, did the elusive Rev return from his little trip?” Blake asks as he begins emptying the bags, and I grab a couple of plates.

“He did. Sporting a bandaged hand and a bruise on his cheek, which he attempted to cover unsuccessfully.”

“Well, fuck me,” Blake says, pausing to look at me.

I nod, ignoring the temptation to do just that and continue dishing up dinner. “I hope there’s spring rolls in here.” Blake rolls his eyes and holds out a small white paper bag to me. Taking the bag, I open it and find four mini spring rolls. I placetwo on Blake’s plate, one on mine and stuff the other into my mouth while Blake dishes up the rice and grabs forks for us both.

“So, what excuse did he give you for his injuries?” Blake asks as we sit down to eat.

“He claims he fell down some steps.”

“That’s original,” he says around a mouthful of food. “Did you find anything at the church?”

I shake my head. “No, nothing. Which means, we need to find a way inside his house.” Blake frowns. “What?” I ask.

“Just thinking how hard that might be considering the guy doesn’t seem to leave the house after dark.”

“I know. I’m going to tail him for the next couple of days and see if he visits anywhere else, then we can decide.”

I tell Blake about the guy who came looking for Amos, and he agrees it’s suspicious. After that we eat in silence, and my mind wanders to my sister. She’s the reason we are here. My parents might not want anything to do with me, but I’m determined to get justice for them and Annabel. And all the other women Kincaid has raped and murdered. We know Amos Kincaid isn’t his real name. From what we know, the real Amos Kincaid went missing over twenty years ago. His identity was stolen around the same time he went missing—I’d lay money on him being dead and buried in some shallow grave somewhere. The fact he had no next of kin, no living family to miss him, made it easy for Sydney’s father to assume his identity without raising any suspicions.

We aren’t even certain if Kincaid is Sydney’s real father. That’s another puzzle piece we need to find. The only thing we know for sure is that Amos Kincaid is really Warren Burns, and he was there the night my sister was murdered three years ago. By all accounts, he was the last one to see her alive.

“Here,” Blake says, interrupting my thoughts and holding out another beer. “What’s got you thinking so hard?” he asks as he drops down on the seat beside me.

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

“About Annabel?” I nod. “We’ll get him, Ro. We’ll make him pay.” He rests his free hand on my thigh, gently rubbing it.

“Too fucking right we will,” I tell him, then take a mouthful of beer. I rest my head back and close my eyes as Blake’s hand soothes me.

There’s a clunk of glass on wood as Blake places his beer bottle down on the coffee table, and the sofa creaks as Blake shifts position. His hand trails along my thigh to my knee, and I sense him positioned on the floor between my legs. He pushes against my knees, forcing me to widen my legs, and I don’t fight it. But I do raise my head a fraction and crack an eye open as Blake begins a torturous stroking of my cock through my joggers. Watching me with hooded and lust filled eyes, I snatch hold of his hair and lift his head. My eyes drop to his mouth as he wets his lips, his tongue pausing on his piercing. My cock jerks beneath his hand.

“Thinking about my lips wrapped around your cock, huh?” he teases.

I tug at his hair. “I don’t need to think about it. You’re about to make it a reality.” His hands grip either side of my joggers, and I lift my hips just enough for him to tug them down, letting my cock free. His move to get his mouth on me is instant, and I let him get within a breath’s reach before I pull him back with a deep chuckle.

He groans. “Please, Ro. Fuck my mouth,” he begs.

Normally, I’d torture us both with delayed pleasure, but I don’t have the patience tonight. My thoughts have been scattered and somewhere between grief and relief since we arrived and confirmed Amos is here.

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