Page 46 of Along for the Ride

She tries to ask me what I mean, but that sends a dribble of come onto her lip. I pull her to her feet and wipe it away, bringing it to her forehead and anointing her with a cross. Her nostrils flare.

“Sorry, I’m getting carried away. Gentry and I grew up catholic. You know, real religious and shit until we started killing regularly. Then the hypocrisy of kneeling in front of God became comical.” I kneel in front of her and open my mouth. “Spit it back in my mouth.”

Shehappilydoes as I ask. It’s so aggressive. So fucking hot.

“Show me,” she says, and fuck does it almost harden my dick again.

I stick out my tongue, waggling it around without a hint of protest from my tastebuds, then I swallow it. God, I’m starting to like her, and I fucking hate that for me.

My little thief. His wanderer.

Whoever the fuck she is, she’s getting under my skin.

ChapterTwenty

Gentry

Why can’t this girl do as she’s told? I asked nothing more than for her to stay put. A third person means more risk. With her long hair, it would be too easy to leave DNA behind, and she doesn’t even have gloves, for fuck’s sake. I also didn’t want her to see who I am. What I do. She already knew enough, but she didn’t know everything. Now? Now she knows I’m just as crazy as my brother.

After finishing off the child predator and finding a nice stash of cash in his sock drawer, I walk out the back door of the house and listen for Leana and Karson. I take off the way they ran. I hate that I couldn’t go after them sooner—especially when I know what Karson is likely doing to her right now—but I had my hands a bit full at the time.

When I get to them, I expect to see her trapped beneath him like last time. Instead, she’s standing there, bare from the waist down. Karson’s kneeling on the ground in front of her, with his head tilted back and his mouth gaped open. And she’s...spitting in his mouth?

Jesus fuck.

“What the hell happened?” I ask.

Karson rises to his feet and tucks his dick away. “We played around, is all,” he says. The casual way he speaks is like nails on a goddamn chalkboard.

“She consented to that?”

Karson buckles his belt. “Ish.”

I go to Leana’s side and check her body for marks. Not seeing any, I pull her into me and kiss her, thankful she’s okay. The salty bite of her tears burns my tongue. She reaches for her pants when I step away, but I don’t want his come inside her. “Squat and push it out before you dress.”

Her eyes go to Karson, and realization hits me.

“She didn’t catch it with her cunt,” Karson says with a laugh.

I pull away from her, tasting the salt of his come—not her fucking tears—on my lips. Cool. That’s what I wanted to experience today. I assess her face again and spot a glob of come on her forehead. I pull my sleeve over my hand and wipe it away.

“Wait...” I stop myself, sidetracked by the image of him on his knees in front of her. “Did you have her spit your shit back into your mouth? Is that what you were doing when I walked up?”

Karson smirks. “Don’t act like you’ve never done that.”

“I can say with utmost certainty I have not.”

“You kiss women after they suck your dick, no?”

I scoff. “It’s not the same.”

“Don’t kink shame me, Gentry. I’m not the one who gets off by having their hair shampooed. Nowthat’sfucking weird.”

This motherfucker. Clearly my ex-wife had a big mouth. Yeah, I’m a tripsolagniac. For me, the hair salon has always been the equivalent of going to a massage parlor for a rub and tug. After coming in my pants in the middle of a wash when I was younger, I started cutting my own hair.

“Need me to wash the dirt out of your hair when we get back to the hotel?” Leana asks with a giggle. “If you stop by the store and buy the supplies, I can even do a conditioning treatment. So fucking hot.”

I donotneed this judgmental shit. “See you back at the car,” I say, turning away from them and heading toward the SUV. Fuck those two. If they want to sit back there and cackle about kinks, by all means, go nuts. At least I don’t guzzle my own jizz like it’s hors d’oeuvres.

---