Page 62 of White Raven
“Sick,” Leigh grinned, squeezing her body between them and making her way to the elevator. “Wren’s got my number. Looking forward to it, detective.” She left, and Brandon turned to face her, his mouth still dropped open.
“Am I missing something?” he asked. Rhaena smirked, turning away and rolling out her chair as she pulled her phone out of her pocket and sat down.
“Nope,” Rhaena chirped, sliding open her recent calls.
“Since when do you bat for both teams?”
She dialed Athan, smiling to herself. “Since I might have gotten a lead on where to find Ryan Sykes. We’ll talk later.”
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Busy?”
“Busy failing at salvaging another one of Sarah’s expensive pans.”There was a banging noise, and Rhaena could hear Sarah snickering on the other end.“This should not be this fucking difficult.”
Rhaena smiled. “Well, I might be able to brighten your day. I just had an unexpected visitor with some curious information.”
“I’m putting you on speaker…go ahead.”
“Sarah, how well do you know Leigh Erickson?”
“Leigh? From the tattoo shop? Turn the heat down, Athan…that’s why it’s fucking burning.”
Bless him…he’d never learn how to cook. She was going to buy the poor fucker an air fryer. “Yes. Pink hair…forward personality.”
“I don’t know her well. Just in passing, mostly. I bought some weed from her recently.”
“Ah…makes sense. Did you or Wren have any idea that she was sleeping with Ryan Sykes?”
“What?!”Athan and Sarah both said in unison.
“Yeah, she just came up here looking for Sykes. Said they’d been sleeping together, and that she mentioned going back to Portland…not Seattle.”
“Portland is like a two and a half hour drive from Seattle. I thought Sykes said that was where she was from?”Sarah asked, confused.“Unless she just wanted us to think that,”Athan added.
“Can somebody try Wren? I’ve been calling her, but she hasn’t answered. After this, I definitely want to talk to her. See what she can add to this.”
“Ah…”Sarah drew out the interruption, and Rhaena could hear the smile in her voice.“Could we—will you leave that to me?”
“Something wrong?” Rhaena asked.
“Nope,”Sarah started, Athan cutting her off.“Sarah sent her to Stratford’s.”
Ohh…damn. Was this finally happening? “Oh, God. So, they’re…um…you know what? Never mind. I’ll let you take care of that. Just hit me up when you talk to her, yeah?”
“Thanks, Rhaena,”Athan said, another loud banging and a bitten curse sounding on the other end, followed by Sarah’s howling laughter.“I gotta go. Fuck.”
Call ended.
If anybody had told him months ago that Wren Vintorri would be in his bed…with cries of pleasure wringing from her throat while her perfect hips rode up and down his cock…he’d have told them they were absolutely insane. To even think that she’d ever be crying out his name—thathewas the one making her feel this good…it was unheard of. Four times now, they’d pushed themselves to exhaustion, completely spent and trying to come to terms with the fact that while some small part of them still hated each other, neither one could stop themselves from tearing the other apart. In every time he could recall sleeping with Sarah…all the instances when he’d outright told her it was too much or made him uncomfortable…this fire with Wren was different. That, or some part of him had changed. A darkness in him that had been sleeping soundly and was suddenly awakened and ready to swallow this redhead whole.
Being with her made him feel like someone else. Someone that was always there, but never had the key to the chains that held him back. Wren had let him out—freed him. That part of him was so lost in her that he forgot who he’d been before. Brent wondered if it was the same for her while he watched her creamy, pale body move over him like she was high on every drop of sweat…every shattered breath. What started out as fiery passion in that elevator was becoming less profane, and started to reflect the words Wren hadn’t meant to say. He could see it…feel it. As much as he tried not to think of Sarah while he was buried deep in her best friend, he couldn’t help but realize that never once—not once—had he felt this way with Sarah St. James. Whatever this was…it was real. Real, and primal, and desperate.
Sweat trickled between her breasts, and he leaned up, taking the back of her neck and winding his arm around her back to relieve her tired legs, and finish her off himself. Their swollen lips crashed together, and her tight cunt clenched around him ashe thrust in and out of her. It didn’t take her long. He tried not to let it show that his manly pride shone like a beacon when Wren’s loud moan filled his mouth and she collapsed on his shoulder, her warm evidence leaking from her body and forcing him to explode inside her. He could barely catch his breath. He gripped her damp mess of red hair and laid them back down, breathing heavily against the top of her head.
Wren eased him out, situating herself at his side and resting her cheek in the crook of his shoulder, trying to steady her breathing. “I’m gonna need to use your fancy shower,” she panted, chuckling breathlessly as their legs tangled.
“It’s broken, remember?”
