Page 74 of Fortune's Control
I stroked my cock while maneuvering my other hand between her thighs.
“Your shirt. Take it off.”
Lilah’s sudden command caused my stomach to flex as I rushed to do as told. She kissed my chest and stomach as her hands roamed and squeezed. She moved off me, and her mouth covered my cock. I inhaled a deep, husky breath and held it in.
My fingers combed through her soft hair, wantingto touch her while letting her maintain control. Lilah’s head bobbed, and my hips followed her motion as I sought a release.
Her wet mouth and hands squeezed as I tensed and pulled her off. Lilah’s mouth let go with a pop as she gazed up at me through hooded eyes and swollen lips.
“I want to finish inside you. Lay down.” I stood, pushing Lilah down until she lay draped across the small couch. “Get these off.”
She lifted her hips and shimmied as I grabbed her panties and shoved my trousers further down. I put my left knee on the sofa for balance and slammed into her. Her back arched as she hissed.
I kept going, pounding into her in search of my release. It didn’t take long before I groaned, sputtering as I came.
25-Lilah
I wiggled my toes to better admire the coral-pink polish.
“So Detective Moore is a giant-sized stupid head with a stupid face and stupid opinions? Next time, pull the I’m just a girl routine,” Emma said.
“What routine is that?” I tested the polish, judged it dry enough, and crossed my legs under me. The blue dress skirt hid most of both.
“Oh, you know the one.” She raised her voice several octaves. “I don’t understand. Can you explain? I still don’t get it. Gee, this is so complicated.” Her voice assumed its usual tone by the end. “The gross sexist inside of him always comes out by the end.”
Shane kicked the two detectives out before they had a chance. I spent that interview doubting my memory and myself. “Does that work?”
“They get angry, which makes it so much better.”
“I’ll try it next time.” Sophie was with me during the attack, and both detectives still believed I made it up.
“You think they have the wrong guy?”
“I think…” Hesitation struck. The man in the gray sedan was the same man who killed Sandy Cooper. Physical evidence and other witnesses placed Wilson Skane at the scene, and he had no alibi. As Detective Davis pointed out, my inability to recognize him in a line-up didn’t matter when compared to the rest of it. All I had was a strange instinct. “I think I don’t trust myself very much.”
“Delilah Mayberry.” Emma gave a loud, commiserating sigh. “That’s your mother speaking. Don’t listen to her.”
Her loud voice made it difficult not to hear. “I check the Internet sometimes.”
“For what?”
“Other crimes. Murders. I check the local news to see if any young women were killed in other places besides Atlanta.”
“Are there?”
I stare down at my open laptop. Sitting under an oak, in one of Shane’s chairs, with the sun’s rays seeping through the branches, I could pretend none of it happened. Almost. “Not so far. I check almost every day.”
“Have you told Shane?”
“That I obsess over an imagined killer? No.”
“Okay, I’ll be straight with you, in your face and blunt. You need to tell him that. He needs to know.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Lilah, your instincts are screaming at you. Listen to them. Stop doubting yourself right the heck now.”
I glanced over at Shane’s woodshop. He was busy and unaware of our conversation. He saved me from yesterday’s catastrophe of an interview to protect me, not because he believed there were two killers. “I will.”
