Page 153 of Vile Bastards
I put my hand on the roof and close my eyes.
Chet Jr.
If he’s not dead, then he’s next on my list. We already got Chief Bolin’s son, so why not go for the son of Archer Realty? Only, this isn’t the place to do it. On the other hand, if the creep is still alive, will he remember what went down in the office?
I turn around only to have Ash move in front of me. He puts his arms out, one hand resting atop the roof on either side of me.
“I know that every second we spend together is a risk,” he murmurs, reaching up to take my chin in his fingers. I bat his hand away, and he frowns, leaning in even closer. “I know it’s a risk, but I keep finding it more and more difficult to care.”
I can see his pulse, thundering along the pale, vulnerable skin of his throat. Reaching up a single finger, I drag the point of my nail along his carotid, and he shivers. We’ve got relative privacy out back here. Sure, we’re next to the dumpsters, but this place is practically a country club; it’s clean as fuck.
“Say you’ll marry me, even if it’s a lie,” I repeat, and Ash frowns, taking my hand and lifting it up so that we can both see Widow’s ring.
“It’s okay for him but not for me?” he queries back with a disturbing level of propriety. I see it for what it is: a cover, a front, a shield against the surge of heat that I can see in his eyes. “Why is that? Have you already made a decision, Scarlett-chan?”
“A decision?” I ask, and then I laugh. “What decision? I’m not making any fucking decisions regarding the four of you. If you’re on your best behavior, I’ll let you stick around. If you get tired of sharing me, that’s on you.” I lift my chin and reach my hands down to the fly of my brown trousers.
I feel very 1920s, a la Hellé Nice and the Bugatti Type 35C she drove at a world record speed of a hundred and twenty-three miles per hour in 1929. That’s the look I was going for, like some sort of female mobster from the roaring twenties.
Ash’s gaze drops to my pants, but when he reaches for his own, I grab his hands with my right one and pry his fingers away.
“No.” I shove my own pants down and then grab Ash by the hair. He scowls at me slightly, but when I push him to his knees, he complies. His hands cup my ass and he pulls me forward, drawing my cunt toward his face.
With his left hand, he removes my heel and then tugs the pants even further down, so I can slip one foot out completely. Ash encourages me to hook that leg over his shoulder, and then that devil’s tongue of his is between my thighs.
He isn’t shy about getting involved, sucking cunt like he wants to choke on it.
“That’s a good boy,” I murmur, digging my fingers into his hair and shoving his face even harder against my crotch. I grind my hips shamelessly against him, head thrown back, well aware that this is probably a very bad idea.
Widow made trouble with security; ol’ CJ fell down the stairs; Bohnes is here. That last bit alone is enough to turn a casual sexual encounter into a bloodbath. Yet, it’s the danger that drives me.
You have some serious screws loose, I tell myself, but also … I really don’t care.
Ash and I are doomed as a couple, aren’t we? It’s just a matter of time.
Besides, I need something to wash away the memory of Cody’s repulsive touch.
Ash’s fingers grip my ass as he drags my hips forward, positioning his mouth so that he can lick and suck at my clit but still have access to my opening.
“How do you always taste so good?” he murmurs under his breath, the words muffled by my cunt grinding against his handsome face. I’m sure that my nails are tearing his scalp up, but that matters even less to me than the possibility we might be stumbled on. At this point, I’m just straight emptied of all fucks. That’s right: not a single fuck left to give about anything.
Looking down at Ash, buried between my thighs the way he is, I feel that cold rage pull back just a bit. But just a bit. Every time a day like today happens, I get a little colder, a little angrier. Eventually, I’m going to have a total breakdown, and the people that wronged me won’t like what’ll be coming their way.
Just ask Officer Paraphilia back at the school.
Angry bliss rockets through me, poisoning my veins, making my head swim with dizziness. I like to live on the edge; I like to do stupid things. This is probably one of the dumbest, but I can’t seem to make myself stop. Not only do I want Ash with a passion that burns, but I can’t run this track today thinking about Lemon and Chet Jr., and whatever it is that his words might mean.
