Page 44 of Between Brothers

“You know it’s funny. When it comes to me, I get a feeling you harbor as much hate as you do curiosity and interest, don’t you?”

His fingers began to work as instruments of torture, strumming and drumming in their rapid efforts to force an answer.

“You can’t decide if you want to shove me in this water, or beg me to shove my dick in you.” His breath puffed against my throat while his fingers climbed. The short, heavy thrust of them distorting my mind beyond even the most basic of retorts.

I twisted in his hold, my hips grinding until his knuckles were pummeling my pussy. I brought my long arm up as I did so, and connected with a vicious snap against his left cheek.

He laughed and let go of me altogether, his boots sounding against the deck as he started off the dock.

My body buckled like I’d been standing, though I’d been on my knees for some time. I was breathless, my cunt was throbbing, and I was alone.

It was a game…

He was toying with me!

“I can’t help it if I had to settle for perching on your bike, because I couldn’t find Roy’s last night, okay.” I started my verbal assault before I’d even managed to push myself up into a sitting position.

For a minute, I was truly scared. The way he stopped and stiffened, before slowly turning to face me made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

His gaze dropped from my eyes, down to my knees and back to my face again, “Roy doesn’t know what to do with a woman like you, Kennedy. Get in the fucking car.”

I blinked, suddenly slapped back to reality. I’d left the keys in the damn car.

Shit!

I forgot about my discarded underwear. I forgot about the unsteady dock. I forgot about everything and raced up the stairs after him.

Chapter Eighteen

Out Thinking the Devil

Royal

I rang the doorbell and stood outside of the address my brother had texted me.

I had arrived before Paxton. Even though King had said that no one was supposed to be home, I wanted to be sure before I let myself inside. The last thing I needed was to be at the wrong house, or walking in on someone skittish. In our outlaw life, it was better to assume everyone else was as armed as we were.

“Are you sure I’m supposed to be here?” Rigs asked, for the third time since we’d left the tavern.

“Yep,” I dryly answered.

I’d learned long ago not to feed that girl undue attention.

“It’s just that–”

“My brother said he was taking you out tonight, I know. You’ve said. And yet…” I noisily sucked my teeth, surveyed our surroundings and locked my gaze on her again.

I didn’t sign on for this shit.

No one said I’d have a babysitter. I still couldn’t fathom what would make him think it was a good idea to bring a fucking witness.

A witness he’d whispered sweet nothings at until she blindly agreed to come along.

King promised she’d be clueless; he hadn’t said shit about all of this extra nonsense. I felt like I was dragging a sullen child along, which was the last thing I wanted to do, when I was trying to thwart a double homicide.

Hell, it was the last thing I wanted to do if I intended to go through with it!

What the fuck was wrong with Kingston? He was as bad as our father! I turned back to the unanswered door, and twisted the knob, waving my arm in a grandiose manner to urge her inside.