Page 60 of The Tangle of Awful

A minute ago, he was pissing me off, but I’m once again reminded why he’s my best friend. He knows what I need. And right now, I need to be alone with her. Maybe I can get something out of her.

“Yeah, man,” I grunt. “And thanks for earlier. I may need you a little more until we figure out this whole stalker shit.”

It’s hard handing over what’s been such a vital part of my mental energy for so damn long, but there’s no one I trust more than Dempsey.

He’ll take care of my problem while I deal with Aubrey’s.

As soon as the door closes behind the twins and Willa, I lock it and then head for Aubrey’s room. Her door is ajar. Creeping up to it, I peek inside. She’s no longer in her sexy work outfit but has long since changed into a pair of tiny cotton shorts that her plump ass cheeks hang out of and a white tank top. Sprawled out on the bed, she faces the window, hugging a pillow to her front.

I push the door open slowly and silently before prowling into her space. The scent is uniquely hers with a hint of the saltiness of her tears. I inhale the air, trapping it in my lungs.

Addictive.

“Who was it?” I demand, relishing in the way her body jolts in surprise. “Whose dick were you sucking in the picture?”

She rolls onto her back, mouth agape. “Excuse me?”

“Surely there weren’t so many that you can’t remember what they all looked like.”

The sadness that saturated the room evaporates. Her features screw into a hateful scowl. It’s unfair that she’s so fucking hot, even when angry.

“Answer me, leech.”

“I thought we were past this,” she snaps. “Guess I was wrong.”

I laugh as I kick off my shoes and crawl onto the bed beside her. “You know I’m the only one allowed to torment you.”

“I hate you.”

“You’re not a victim, Aubrey. Don’t start acting like one now. Where’s the bitch who keyed my car?”

A smile curves the corners of her lips. “You deserved it.”

“And you didn’t deserve this?”

The smile falls and she averts her stare. “Maybe.”

I lie down beside her and grip her jaw, turning her face toward mine. “Was it Ben?”

“I don’t know,” she admits, voice soft. “To be honest, I didn’t stare at the picture long enough. I’m not exactly virginal in the bedroom. I like to be photographed in the heat of the moment. What I don’t like is having it used against me later.”

My dick can’t help but twitch at the thought of taking hundreds of nude photos of her. If she notices my erection pressing into her side, she doesn’t let on.

“You’d let me take pictures of you?” I murmur, teasing a finger along the column of her neck. “Kinky ones I can jerk off to later?”

Her lips part and her eyes darken. It’s dangerous that she responds to my depravity. It’s the only reason I can justify why I’m crashing my mouth to hers, needing to taste the desire on her lips.

Fuck, she always tastes so sweet.

I groan, delving my tongue into her mouth, desperate to have more of her. Her fingers find their way to my hair and she tugs, pulling me closer. My free hand roams to her ass and I squeeze one cheek hard enough to make her yelp.

“You’re not some random slut,” I rasp against her lips. “You’re my slut, aren’t you?”

I expect her to moan or dive deeper into this kinky fantasy, but the words are a cold splash on her and she freezes.

“It’s true,” she croaks. “I’m a slut.”

“For me,” I add, grinning evilly at her.

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