Page 39 of Dangerous Deviance
“Another gem,” I said, then I read another, “Cheat day means I can eat an entire box of donuts by myself, yes? That’s exactly what cheat day is. Please and thank you.” I raised my brows at her playfully. “An entire box?”
She shrugged. “Probably a baker’s dozen.”
I read another. “This is not a drill. Seriously. Tequila is on BOGO. Get your margarita-drinking self over here. Then save me a pitcher!” I tilted my head. “You can really eat and drink, huh?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a pitcher of margaritas by myself,” she smiled, “But hey, it’s possible.”
These were too damn funny not to read aloud. “Even at max volume, these earbuds will never be loud enough for Metalheads.” I smirked. “Metalheads? I took you as more of a boy band type.”
She shoved my shoulder. “Don’t you ever insult me again.” She quirked her brow. “Unless you sing?”
I chuckled. “We don’t usually get voice lessons in the mafia. Though I’m sure my mother would have scheduled them, had I asked.”
I turned back to the email, knowing the ones I had actually wanted to talk about were up next. My serious tone leaked out, no matter how badly I wanted to shrug it off: “Those of you that go to Pebble Garden U, have any of you seen my sister? Blond. Skinny. Bouncy. Way too happy to be alive? Probably has stolen lipstick and sunglasses in her pocket? Tell Julie to call me. NOW.”
The smile fell from Ellie’s face.
“She was always stealing stuff from stores,” she said quietly. “Lipsticks. Even a pacifier once.” She looked down. “I never understood that.”
Based on the records Kiley had found, it didn’t seem like Ellie and Julie were hard for money. A modest living, sure, but never behind on bills. Ellie had worked at the local grocery store for years and had worked her way up to a managerial position.
“Why’d she steal?” I asked.
Ellie shrugged. “For the thrill of it, I guess. She just wanted to push boundaries all the time.”
I turned back to my phone. “Please share this. I can’t reach Julie. But someone has to know something.”
I showed my phone to Ellie; it had a picture of her sister, with a phone number to call, as well as her stats: height, weight, hair color, eye color, age. When it came to their facial structure, Julie and Ellie looked exactly alike, the same square face, the same blue eyes. But Julie had blond hair and thin cheeks.
Ellie shrunk down again, and I cupped her face, trying to knock her out of that attitude.
“You can’t give up,” I said. “We don’t know where she is.”
“She’s out there,” Ellie nodded. “But who knows if I’ll ever be able to find her. I just want to know that she’s okay.”
How could she live like this? Not knowing?
And how could I not give her that peace? I had to help her. Not just for my family, but for her. It was the least I could do.
“Is anything else coming back to you?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Not right now. But—” she slid her hand down my chest, then tugged on the button of my pants. My cock filled with arousal and our eyes met.
She was initiating. Again. Those big blues peered up at me.
“What?” I asked, my voice hoarse with lust.
She kneeled on the ground before me. “I want to show you how grateful I am for your help.” She pushed apart my knees. My cock thickened against my leg, stretching my pants, and she eyed it, licking her lips.
I should have been thrilled. This meant that I had won her loyalty, had made her see that shewasmine, that she couldn’t fight it anymore. But I couldn’t believe it. She had been resistant all of the other times, and had more emotional baggage than anyone I knew. There was no way that this could be real. Because otherwise, what made this moment different? What was to say that this wasn’t a trick?
“I know you’re grateful,” I said in a husky voice, trying to hide the fact that I was turned on. “You have to be.” Because she was technically my prisoner.
“This isn’t about that,” she said, reading my mind. She put her hands on my knees. “You’re helping me find my past and my family.” She closed her eyes, a smile spreading across her lips. “Family is one of the most important things we have in this life. You—” She paused, rubbing her hands up and down my inner thighs. My cock twitched when she came near it. “You get that. You get me.”
My heart ached at those words. Family. How was that the one abstract that tied us together? And how could she be so strong when the entire world was on edge? Her sister was missing, her parents were gone, and I had ripped her from her life and made her a permanent fixture in mine. And yet still, she had found the direct path to my soul and brought a dagger to it—family, fucking family—twisting the knife, to make sure that I could never resist her again.
And why should I resist her?
