Page 159 of Property of Necro
Some asshole clears their throat, breaking our spell.
I reluctantly pull back, but not too far, and swing my pissy gaze to a particular cock-blocking chef.
“What?” Mama shrugs with laughter in his voice. “We’re in the kitchen. Take it elsewhere.”
Fine.
I sigh, and it’s long, suffering, and far too over the top because Necro’s here, and we were kissing, and now we have to stop, and I hate that. I haven’t been touched, touched since yesterday, and I haven’t come in what feels like a hundred years. Alright. That’s an exaggeration, but this lady has blue balls. Coffin wouldn’t fuck me when we worked in his barn today, where I swept the floors, and he built another coffin.
I’m a horny mess, and I hate it.
Throwing my mallet on the kitchen island, I kiss the center of Necro’s chest. “I need to wash my hands before I can touch you.” I lift them to show how icky they are.
Fixing his mask, Necro nods once and releases me. I rush to clean up before we leave the kitchen with a parting, “Have fun, kids,” from Mama.
I damn near skip from the room with my hand folded in Necro’s.
He escorts me through the halls to his office. But instead of leading me to the chair I once called home, he pulls me to his desk, where he picks me up by my waistand sits me on the edge. My feet dangle off the floor, and he takes his seat.
“Is there a reason we’re here?” I ask, knocking my heels against the drawers.
You want to see the strip club?he signs, getting straight to the point.
“Am I allowed to?”
Yes. This is your home.
“What about the rest of the town?”
We can show you.
“When?” I beam, excited at the prospect of leaving the church.
Necro’s head tilts to the side as he regards every inch of me. Staring at my toes, he travels up to my face, where his eyes soften around the edges.Tonight? I can’t go outside when it’s light out. But once it’s dark, we can go.
“What’s wrong with the sun?” I ask when I probably shouldn’t.
Relaxing back in his chair, Necro rests a boot on his knee.I didn’t know there was a sun for the first nine years of my life. My eyes adjusted to the darkness, so it hurts to be in bright light.
Fuck.
I keep my expression neutral, so he doesn’t think I pity him, when I ask, “Have you tried?”
Yes. In foster care. I used sunglasses, but the sun makes my skin itch, and my eyes still hurt with the glasses on.
“Is that why you don’t leave?”
I don’t like people. That’s why I don’t leave. It’s also hard to explain this. He points to his mask and eyes.These freak people out.
“Because they’re almost white?” I guess.
Necro nods.I also don’t like to wear shirts.
“I wondered about that. None of you wear shirts except Mama. Don’t get me wrong, I’m basically living in a sanctuary of hot, fucked-up men. So, I’m not complaining.”
His gaze dances with mirth as he signs,Sanctuary of hot men?
“Have you looked in the mirror, like ever?”
