Page 27 of Wicked Riddles & Bitter Heartbeats

She looks through the different magazines on the coffee table, pulling out a gossip one and flipping through the pages. I watch her from the corner of my eye, noting how relaxed she is.

She’s so much more like me than I originally thought.

Calculated. Cunning.

Lilah is amazing.

A couple hours later, we’re on our way to New Hampshire to spend the night because Lilah has never been. It was a conversation that came up while on our tour of White Oaks with Mr. Wintz, who was such a pushover, it was pathetic. He showed us around the place on his fancy golf cart, explaining things about the facilities that went in one ear and out the other. I only started listening when he went on about some of the families who live there—including James Erickson. Apparently, the people in the community feel safer knowing there is a cop who lives within the gates.

If only they knew he’s the reason a serial killer is now inside, I doubt they’d feel the same way.

We drove by James’ house two different times, but it didn’t give me much of anything. The place is locked down thoroughly, and though that sucks, it helps me figure out my plan.

I’m going to have to find my brother another way. Meaning, I need to do some more digging on him. After driving around,talking with the manager, and looking up information online, I’ve learned White Oaks is as safe as they claim.

There are plenty of hotels and bed and breakfasts to stay at in New Hampshire. I let Lilah pick, since this experience is all for her. She chooses one in Concord that looks like a castle, which isn’t far from Boston. If I cared about money, this would be a waste; spending so much just to sleep an hour from home. But the smile on Kitten’s face when we pull up to the hotel is priceless.

I book us a room, the nicest one they have, and we’re chaperoned to it because apparently people who stay here get lost. As if following directions is difficult. But I guess to the average person, it is.

We have nothing with us since we didn’t plan on staying the night anywhere when we left the house. I’ll have clothes delivered to us. This doesn’t seem like an area that would typically do that, but when money talks, people listen.

“You know what I think?” Lilah says, as she spins in a wistful circle in the middle of the room.

“What’s that?” I ask, humored.

She holds her arms out wide and falls backwards onto the bed.

“I think you should fuck me right here.” She pats the bed, then looks at me with a smile.

I’m tempted. So tempted. But I don’t think she’s fixed yet.

I have no idea why I care so much what she thinks or how she feels. It’s been a long time since I fucked someone, and I’m sure fucking her will be great. Better than anyone before, because she’s her and there’s something between us. But something is stopping me; something is making me care. It doesn’t feelrightyet.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that.”

“Atty, come on,” she whines, slapping her hands on the bed.

I go to her, leaning over her body and kissing her perfect lips.

“How about I let you ride my face?”

She frowns, gripping my biceps and pulling me closer so my body presses hers into the mattress.

“I want to feel you inside me.” She leans up to lick my neck but pauses abruptly. She lies back down, looking at me with narrowed eyes. “Are you a virgin?”

I huff out a laugh, rolling over to lie beside her.

“No, Kitten. I am not a virgin.”

She groans. “Well,thatwould have made sense.”

“Shouldn’t you be happy that I don’t want to fuck you just because you want me to?”

Huffing, she says, “I guess.”

Turning onto my side, I kiss her cheek and prop my elbow on the bed and rest my head on my hand. My other hand slips into her jeans and beneath her panties. Her skin is so smooth, so soft, so delicious. She moans when I find her clit, pressing on it before going further down to find her soaked. I drag my fingers back up, circling her clit.

“Atty,” she moans.

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