Page 111 of Property of Necro
I lean back in my chair and stare up at him, waiting for answers. “Okay?”
“Fuck,” he barks, shifting from foot to foot. “This is harder than I thought… I… I missed you. So fuckin’ much and now you’re here and you’re lookin’ at me like…”
“I’m pissed? And hurt? And confused?” I fill in for him.
Sighing, Rot threads his fingers behind his head, giving me a front-row view of his spectacular biceps. “Yeah.”
My right leg bounces. “That’s because I am, and you’re not telling me anything.”
“Can I say how hot you look right now? Like, I wanna drop to my knees and eat your pussy for like a week. I missed you, Red. Seein’ you… Damn. It’s a lot.” Rot adjusts his obvious erection, and I pretend it isn’t flattering because I don’t want it to be, but damn if he isn’t hot, all worked up, and dirty from being in the grave. My grave.
I still can’t believe that happened.
He cards a hand through his thick, black hair, and a disheveled Rot is still incredibly yummy. Blowing out a breath, he spares a glance at a tied-up Coffin, and then he drops to his knees in front of me, ruches up my skirt, and shoves his face against my panty-covered pussy. His hot breath penetrates through the fabric, heating my core.
I grip his hair, and he groans, but I don’t pull him off. “Let me talk here.” He nuzzles his nose against me. “I’ll tell you everything. Just let me smell you.”
My stomach dips at his words. “Fine.”
Being the sneaky bastard he is, Rot sucks the fabric into his mouth.
I pull his hair and gasp in mock outrage. “Rot.”
“Sorry. Sorry. Fuck. Okay…” He relents and looks up at me with puppy-dog eyes. “We’ve been stalkin’ you for months. Waitin’ for Necro to pull his head out of his ass. When he didn’t, we asked Joe to kidnap you and bring you to us.”
“Joe, being the guy who drugged me?”
“Yeah.” He tongues the fabric of my panties, and his eyes roll back into his head. “He-he’s one of our foster brothers. He’s not with the club, but he drops by from time to time to hang out, and if we need help, we call him,” he whispers.
Loving him at my feet, I push a strand of hair off his forehead. “I thought nobody but the brothers were allowed in the church.”
“He doesn’t come inside. We hang out here.”
“Right. So, you asked Joe to kidnap me?”
“Last week, we caught wind of the party at the bar. Coffin’s been losin’ his mind for months now. Once we locked down plans with Joe, Coffin spiraled out of control. He hasn’t slept in almost a week. He’s been too busy building, and if he’s not building, he’s killing.”
As I take in the barn, I understand what Rot means. There are stacks of coffins now, not just a few in the corner like before. The pile of scrap wood in the corner could fuel an enormous bonfire.
Wanting a connection, I rub strands of his silky hair between my fingertips. “And how did I end up in a coffin?”
Closinghis eyes as if he loves it when I touch him, Rot kisses my pussy and nuzzles there before answering the question. “When Joe showed up last night, Coffin met him out front. Joe said he asked where I was, but that jackass had already drugged me and locked me in a cell. I guess he drugged Joe, too, then tied him up in the back of his SUV.”
“Then he took me and buried me alive,” I guess, filling in the blanks.
Eyelids fluttering, Rot audibly breathes in my scent, and groans. My pussy clenches of her own accord, loving their reunion far more than the whore should. “We think so,” he finally says. “When I woke up, I spent I dunno how long tryin’ to get someone to let me out. Creature showed up to do his rounds and then helped me find Joe. Coffin was buildin’ more coffins when we got here. He wouldn’t tell us where you were.”
I arch a brow. “You didn’t think to look in the giant hole in the ground?”
“No. Not at first. Coffin has been killin’ a lot lately. There’s been a constant grave or two dug for weeks. Your coffin was on top of the woman he buried this morning.”
Okay. That makes sense, then.
“So, he hates me now and has decided he’d rather see me dead.”
“No.” Rot shakes his head. “I don’t think he knows what’s real anymore. He’s manic as fuck.”
“Or he wanted me back here to kill me.”
