Page 99 of Freaks Of Nature
The gesture irritates me further. I’m not here for her for fake affection. She’s a proxy. A tool to fulfill a physical need, no more.
She brushes her long, dark tresses off one shoulder and tips her head to the side, offering me all the access I want.
My left hand closes around the front of her throat. My lips dip to her ear. “Touch yourself.”
She erupts in soft laughter. “You just want to watch today?”
“Don’t talk.” My right hand clamps down over her mouth, tipping her head back.
It’s bad enough I have to inhale her obnoxious perfume. It never bothered me before, but I fucking hate it now as I’m watching her hands tease the hem of her dress higher. I’m thinking of pink and black pleats and someone else’s hands… someone else’s thighs… the feel of someone else’s tight pussy.
Jillian’s ass grinds back against my fly, her hips rocking into me while pleasuring herself. It doesn’t feel right. She’s too short. She doesn’t fit like Em.
Anger swells in my chest. I squeeze her throat, covering her mouth and nose with my other hand. Her pulse beats against my palm in a frantic rhythm. Her body judders. I feel her climax.
I don’t let go.
The blackness pulls me under. I’m back in the woods, Emily’s body pressed to mine. She squirms in my hold, her cunt dancing around my fingers as I thrust them in and out to drive her higher.
The memory is so vivid, I can feel her pussy squeezing my cock in a slick glide up and down my throbbing shaft. I see her on her hands and knees, taking me. She cries my name. My muscles tremble with tension. I’m about to come.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
“Jilli?”
My eyes fly open at the sound of banging against the door.
“Jilli, are you in there?” a female voice calls from the other side.
I blink, and my vision darts around the room briefly disoriented before my grip loosens on the unconscious girl in my arms.
A long second ticks by.
I hear her sucking in a breath. Her head bobs. Her eyes are hazy as they settle on me.
Fuck!I swallow a mix of shock and guilt. If the knock hadn’t jerked me out, I would’ve killed her.
My chest tightens. I have to get out of here. One arm steadying Jillian, I unlock the door, then practically shove her at the other woman and storm down the hallway toward the back exit, rushing past the two bodyguards in front of Mr. DeMarco’s office and another security guy.
Nobody stops me.
I stumble into the parking lot as a whirlwind of emotions floods me—rage, shame, hate… all crashing down on me at once. I know it will trigger an episode.
Letting the door fall shut, I reach into the front pouch of my sweatshirt for my LED mask and put it on. I never leave the house at night without it. Or my knife. They’re my security blanket.
The familiar sensation instantly calms my erratic breathing. I tip my head back against the brick wall, my hand dipping into my rear pocket, tracing the shape of the knife’s cool grip.
Eyes closed, I relax.
“Well, I’ll. Be. Damned.”
Fuck!My muscles steel at the familiar voice.
“All by your lonesome tonight, are you, Mason? Does that mean your brother is working your girl over?”
My forearms flex. Jaw clenched, my fingers curl into my palms, and I envision Vince’s smug face behind my eyelids.
My fists tremble.
