Page 159 of Chalk Outline
I didn’t forget to bring a few EpiPens for her, just in case she gets stung by a bee.
I glance to my left as I pass a single yellow tree. Sighing, I take another drag and listen to her footsteps as she skips ahead, not bothering to look back, not scared.
Fearless.
My girl is fearless.
“Winona,” I shout.
No answer.
“I know you can hear me, Baby. Dip your fingers in your wet pussy and rub your clit for me.” I command, and a few seconds later, a tiny moan drifts to me. A satisfied grin pulls at the corners of my lips. “Good girl.”
Her soft giggles dance between the trees as I rush forward, licking my lips. I can already taste her as I bring the cigarette to my mouth again for another pull.
Her musky scent is like a warm hug, soothing and persistent, lingering in the early morning breeze.
Her muscles have become stronger, yet she still feels tender against me. Her thick thighs are shaped perfectly under her plump ass. She’s a masterpiece.
The flame that keeps me going.
I’m pretty sure I’m the moth.
I was always the moth.
In her letter, she told me I have invisible wings and am like an angel. That’s not true. I’m just an insect who fell in love with a goddess who loved him back, but my days are numbered.
I may be her husband, but I’m first and foremost her bodyguard. I’m not taking any chances when it comes to her. However, I will let her have some fun over the next few hours.
That’s all that’s left anyway.
I turn my head to the left when I hear a knock on the bark, noticing a small shadow dancing around it. My boots shuffle toward it, moving in that direction as Winona breaks to the right and sprints away.
I round the tree she hid behind. My eyes land on our engraved initials.
R&W.
My chest rumbles as a wide smile spreads across my face, and a memory rushes in.
Winona eagerly taps on my helmet as we pass a police cruiser. I reach back and tap the side of her thighs twice, signaling her to hold on tightly. Her giggles fill the speaker as I twist the throttle harder and race ahead. Adrenaline surges as I navigate through traffic. Today, there’s a huge football game in Boston, and the stadium is packed.
The sirens start blaring behind us as the road ahead clears for me. I switch lanes, passing cars and trucks.
They can’t run my number since I don’t have a plate. The police cruiser demands that I pull over to the side of the road through the public address system.
I won’t.
I have precious cargo in the back; the last thing I need is the police in my business. I still remember the corrupt officers who used to show up at the circus. I don’t know who might show up now, and I’m not about to find out if their faces belong to people from the past.
“You’ve never been to a police chase before,” I say as I head toward the stadium a mile ahead.
“Are you suggesting there will be more?” The little brat can’t help herself.
I chuckle. “Think you can negotiate a good deal for us?”
“I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve,” she replies, excitement coloring her voice. “Maybe I can bat my eyelashes prettily, and they will let us go.”
“Not a fucking chance. They won’t get the opportunity to rake their eyes down your body with dirty looks.”
