Page 23 of Run Little Killer
Lennon pulls back and I chuckle as I sink my fingers into her hair and tilt her head. Her face is flushed, lips swollen, her lust-filled gaze locking with mine. "Don't kiss me unless you're riding my dick," I murmur, voice low.
Her throat bobs with a swallow, breath hitching as I lean in closer, lips skimming the lobe of her ear as I whisper, "That was your free pass."
"And you know I like being watched as much as I like watching," I add, swiveling my attention to Rhett.
He smirks and shakes his head. Dirty old bastard has everyone fooled thinking he's a damn gentleman, but he'sno better than I am. I didn't miss how he pushed the blankets back so I could have a better view of Lennon's pussy swallowing his eager fingers last night.Show off.
"I've gotta pee," Lennon announces, pushing to her feet.
As she rushes off towards the bathroom, the waitress approaches our table with a tray of food. I take my cheesesteak from her as she sets a pork chop down in front of Rhett and a burger and fries beside Lennon's water glass.
The bread is perfectly toasted and the steak practically melts in my mouth as I take a big bite.Fucking delicious. Unless it's ramen or cereal, I'm shit for cooking. The only thing my mother knew how to cook was meth, and she wasn't even good at that. When I was ten, she burnt our landlord's garage down and got sentenced to six years. By the time she got out, I was serving two years in juvie for carjacking.
I'm already halfway through my sandwich when Lennon reappears. She runs a hand through her wavy locks as she slides back into the booth beside me, her face impassive. But the distant look in her eyes is her tell.
When people have been broken and tested, there's a light in their eyes that dies off. They can mask it and fake it so most people don't even notice, but when you've been through the same shit, you do.
"All good?” I ask, reaching for the ketchup.
"Why wouldn't it be?" she quips, snatching the bottle of ketchup from my hands.
"Bitch," I murmur as she sticks her tongue out like a fucking brat.
"Just took off like you were rattled by somethin'," Rhett says, cutting into his potato.
"The only thing rattling was my bladder from the ride," she huffs as she sets the bottle down as far from me as possible,swiping a fry through the red glob on her plate. "How far are we from Englewood?" she asks before popping it into her mouth.
"Still a good couple days," I reply with a shrug.
"Seriously?"
"Yup, got a few stops to make along the way," I answer, dipping a tater-tot into her ketchup.
"Hey!" she shouts, slapping at my hand.
"You in a hurry to get home?" Rhett asks, taking a bite of his own food.
"I just have something to take care of," she says before stuffing another fry into her mouth.
"Something or someone?" I joke.
Her lips press into a thin line, a spark flickering in her eyes. It's almost scary, but rather than smother it, I want to pour gasoline on it and watch the chaos ensue.
A haggard cough sounds before the waitress reappears, and Lennon instantly tips her head down, focusing on her burger.
"Everyone doing okay?" the old crone asks.
Lennon nods her head and hums as Rhett gives her a quick yeah and I cut her a glare. Unbothered, she turns and walks off. Lennon doesn't say anything else while we finish eating, and all I can think of is how badly I want to see that look in her eyes again.
Rhett tosses a few bills down on the table as we shuffle out of the booth and make our way outside. Lennon starts to head toward Rhett's bike like it wasn't just yesterday we were fighting to get her to come with us and now it's the most natural fucking thing in the world for her to be riding with him.
That ends now.
"Ride with me, little killer," I say, knocking down a footpeg with my boot and hitching up my jeans to swing a leg over the seat of my Harley.
"Hard pass," Lennon scoffs, pausing beside Rhett.
"Wasn't asking," I murmur as my lips curl back, corners pulling up in a feral grin. "Consider that the warning."
