Page 92 of Dreadful

“You don't even know what it is.”

“Don't care.”

“You don't want the details first?”

“No.” His expression doesn't change. “I trust you.”

Three words, delivered like it’s the easiest thing he’s ever said.

My mouth opens and closes once before I get sound out. Something warm and slow moves through my chest—I feel it in my ribs first, then down to my fingers where they’re resting on his shoulder. He trusts me with this without asking for a single promise first, without making me prove I’ve thought it through or that I’m worth following. Nobody has ever handed me that without a contract attached to it.

I have to look away for a second before I can speak again.

“Okay.” I take a breath and give him the headline only. “You remember Ryder Mercer from high school?”

He dips his head. “Yeah, sure. Haven’t seen him in years though.”

“Lola and I met up with him today. He’s got an opportunity for a job. We’re talking millions.”

His brows dip toward one another. “How is that your worst?”

I clear my throat. “Well, it’s all very insubstantial currently. And the risk is high—probably too high.” I blow out a breath. “He wants to rob Westhaven.”

Gage barks out a short laugh. He drops his forehead into the curve of my neck, and I feel his mouth move against my skin when he says, “And they say I’m the reckless one.”

I sink my fingers into his hair. It’s longer than it used to be, nearly black when it’s wet. “I’m bringing it to the garage tomorrow. With Lola… and Cruz.”

His head pops up. His eyebrows climb toward his hairline as he looks at me, water dripping off the end of his nose onto my collarbone. “Okay, now I am definitely jealous. You roped Cruz in and not me?”

His bottom lip juts out in a little fake pout, so I give in to my impulses and sink my teeth into it, tugging a little.

He groans into my mouth, a low sound that vibrates through my lips like a current. My legs stay locked around his waist, anchoring me against the hard ridge of him.

He slides his palms down to cup my ass, his fingertips digging into both cheeks. I rock my hips against him as our tongues tangle together.

He uses his grip to guide me into a slow, deliberate rhythm that makes my breath catch.

A broken sound escapes my throat—half gasp, half plea—and heat floods through me, urgent and electric. I break the kiss to drag in air, and his mouth finds my throat, teeth scraping along the sensitive skin beneath my ear.

“Touch me,” I breathe, the words ragged. I don’t care how desperate I sound. Not when I remember exactly what those long fingers can do.

In one fluid motion, he tugs my bikini bottoms aside. His mouth crashes back onto mine as he parts me with two fingers, stroking along my slick folds, teasing near my clit but never quite giving me the pressure I’m aching for.

“Stop teasing me.” I dig my nails into his shoulders, sucking in a shuddery breath as he circles my clit, slow and precise.

“But these fucking sounds you make…” His mouth crushes against mine with a groan. He drags his fingers back, ghosting them over the spot I want them.

I push back against his shoulders, creating a sliver of space between our bodies. My hand slips beneath the wet fabric of his trunks.

The moment my fingers wrap around him, a low groan vibrates against my lips. I can’t stop the grin spreading across my face as I stroke him slowly. Teasing him the way he’s teasing me.

Suddenly he stands to his full height, water sluicing from his shoulders as he lifts me with him, my legs locked around his waist. He carries us through the water with purpose, his grip firm on my hips.

Then I’m out of the water entirely—the night air hits my heated skin like a shock. A faint breeze raises goosebumps along my arms and back as he settles me on the pool’s edge, my legs still dangling in the water. I start to shift back to make room for him, but his hands clamp down on my thighs just above my knees, fingers digging into my skin.

“Don’t move.”

I freeze instantly, my eyes snapping to his. “What’s wrong?”