Page 159 of Unorthodox
I can’t keep my hands over my head anymore, and my fingers come down to his hair, threading through the thick, wavy strands.
For a split second, I think he’ll stop and punish me, but he doesn’t.
He just keeps fucking me, keeps licking me as I come all over his gun.
When the waves of pleasure seem to abate and I can breathe again, I don’t move my fingers from his hair. When he looks up at me from between my thighs, his eyes locked on mine, I’m holding my breath all over again.
“So perfect,” he says, kissing me and making me squirm. “And so fucking beautiful.” He sits back up, slowly slides the gun out of me and glances at it before setting it by my feet on the bed, looking once more between my thighs.
“I made you bleed,” he says softly, almost proudly. As if this is an accomplishment. The thing he wanted that he thinks I gave Dante. He runs his entire palm over my pussy, and I shiver. “It’s almost like you reallyaremine.”
He climbs over me, his hands on either side of my head.
“I’m going to fuck you again,” he says, pressing his hard cock against me. He leans down and presses his lips against my mouth, his tongue colliding with mine. His hand goes to my throat, and he squeezes as he pulls away, watching me closely. “This time it won’t be hell.” He kisses me again, hand still on my throat. “You deserve more than that.”
She’s bleedingon my sheets.
It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to be distracting. Not because it bothers me, her blood on my bed. It turns me on all over again.
It was the gun, and notme, but even still…that was my blood to spill. Not fucking Dante’s.
Her eyes are still glassy, and despite everything I just did to her, she’s got a smile on her face. The second time wasn’t as rough.
I’m not sure which she liked better.
I leave her on the bed as I walk through the bathroom, glancing at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is disheveled, the medical tape coming loose on one corner of the gauze over my shoulder. I see the dark stain of blood beneath it, but I don’t have time to deal with that right now. Instead, I head to the closet, set my gun—still coated withher—on the dresser in the center of the closet. I pull on a white shirt, tugging at it where it brushes against the bullet wound.
I slip on boxers, grey sweats. Just as I grab my gun to head back into my bedroom to deal with Addison, I hear my cell ringing.
I tense for half a second, Evora’s head flashing in my mind again.
I get to the phone just as Addison pushes up on her elbows to peer at it on the nightstand. I rest the gun against her bare thigh, the covers just pulled up to her knees. My eyes are on hers in a silent warning. Then I rake my gaze over her ravaged body, feeling my dick grow hard all over again.
“Are you alone?” Bryce, the man leading the “investigation” into Luca and his bullshit, asks me, interrupting my fantasy of fucking Addison for a third time this morning.
“Did you find a body?” I counter, trying to focus, ignoring Bryce’s question.
Addison stares at me, her arms wrapped around herself as she lies against my pillow. She shifts onto her side, and I set the gun on my nightstand, place my hand on her hip.
Bryce sounds confused. “No, I—”
“Without a head?”I imagine if he’d seen one of those, he wouldn’t fucking forget it.
Bryce is silent a moment, and Addison furrows her brow, but doesn’t speak. “No,” Bryce answers me.
Which means Jameson took Evora himself or rather, had one of his men do it. I hate that I feel the slightest measure of relief, knowing that wasn’t Luca’s doing.
“Go on.”
“Luca got shook up by your buyer,” Bryce says plainly, not questioning me, and instead telling me what I already know. “Admitted he doesn’t really know what the fuck Danik London is doing.” He blows out a breath.
So that was bullshit. A way for Luca to blame Danik for the fact I would have come home to an empty house. Luca was planting those seeds of doubt, not expecting me to leave his party before he did.
“Your guy offered Luca a payout ifhegave him the girl, threatened to off his mother if he didn’t. Something about your buyer not…trusting you. Luca would’ve offered her up to him on a silver platter to save his fucking mom, but you uh…shot him.”
I say nothing. I should’ve shot him in the head, but the time for that will come later.
“As far as who he was talking to inside your house…” Bryce trails off, and I feel my impatience growing. Bryce isn’t one to hesitate over hard truths. Or ripping out a man’s teeth with pliers, so I want to know what the fuck he’s got to say.
