Page 30 of Property of Necro
“Do you wanna tell me what you were actually fighting about?” I press instead.
“No.” Done with the conversation, Rot climbs off the mattress and returns the washcloth to the bathroom. When he comes back, he stretches out with his head on a pillow at the top of the bed, still naked, and crosses his ankles. Blowing out an audible breath, he pats his chest. “Come here, Red.”
I slide up and curl my body around his, resting my cheek on his pec. He pulls me in tight and drapes my leg over his. My knee nestles against his soft cock.
Rot drags his lips across my forehead before kissing me there. “What do you want outta life?”
Surprised by his question, my heart gives an odd thump.
Nobody has ever asked me that before. Nobody hasever cared enough to ask. Not that I expect them to. Most of my conversations surround work.
Not sure what to say that doesn’t sound stupid, I trace a fingertip around his pierced nipple. “I dunno. You?”
“To keep you,” he whispers.
At his admission, a set of butterflies takes flight in my middle. He wants to keep me? Why? Out of the forty-plus women he’s shared with his brothers, I’m nothing special. Knowing how things work around here, he’s probably had this same conversation with each of the women, filling their heads with hearts and flowers and things that don’t exist. Hearts break, and flowers die. It’s the circle of life. I can’t fall for it. I won’t.
Refusing to comment, I close my eyes and breathe him in—soap and musk.
A blanket of companionable silence falls across us. It’s comfortable, too comfortable, too warm, and too inviting. Before I realize what’s happening, my limbs grow heavy, and I drift off to sleep.
Chapter
Twelve
Tyingpantyhose around a blonde bitch’s wrist, I yank her arm up and secure it to the corner of the bed. I do the same to the other. Then, her ankles. Thankfully, she’s passed the fuck out on top of the thick sheet of plastic I draped over the shitty motel bed. Not for long, though. I knock ‘em out, tie ‘em up, and then we have our fun. Well, I do. Them, not so much.
Knowin’ damn well this one will scream like a banshee, I dig through my special bag, pull out the roll of tape I rarely use, rip off a strip with my teeth, and slap it over her mouth. The last thing I need is someone overhearing our fun times. They’d intervene and would have to be killed. Then I’d have to call in more favors, and that’s a headache none of us needs.
I heave a sigh, just thinkin’ about the damn mess.
The fewer people involved, the better. That’s why I go at this alone.
On top of the dingy table, I unpack my bag and lay outall my special toys for tonight’s festivities: a special crucifix, clamps… ya know, the works.
My cock gives a cursory twitch behind my zipper, down for whatever games we’re gonna play.
I pat him like the good boy he is. “You’ll get some, don’t worry,” I whisper.
He thickens, and I groan.
It’s gonna be a long night.
I shouldn’t have waited this long to… take care of my…ourneeds.
Fuckin’ Sola was a bad idea.
Her pussy made all this worse.
She’s made everything worse.
Those green eyes, red hair, and her taking my piercings like a champ flash through my mind.
My dick bucks, goin’ from a chubby to a railroad spike.
Nope. Fuck that.
Shaking my head, I tug my hair ‘til my scalp burns to stop these bullshit thoughts. We’re not thinkin’ about Sola. All women are liars and cheaters. Not a single one of ‘em is worth more than a fleeting thought.
