Bitter Queen (Advantage Play #4) - Kelsie Rae Page 0,27
you and replace it with my own. I want to show you what sex should be like instead of the nightmare you experienced over and over again at the hands of that bastard who hurt you. And now you’re asking me to slip between your thighs.” I laugh, but there isn’t any humor in it. “I wish I had that much control, Q. I really do. But I can’t guarantee that I won’t get a hard-on right now, especially when you look at me like that. Like I hung the fucking moon.”
“Diece—”
“No. If I ever get between those thighs, it’s because you asked me to be there. And that’s not today. So you’ll have to excuse me while I go take a breather and a cold shower.”
Then I leave, and I don’t turn around to see her reaction. Because if there’s any lust there, I’ll be a goner. She’s not ready for that.
And if there’s only disgust? I’ll be wrecked.
12
Sei
Clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth, I light another cigarette. The smoke fills my lungs and calms my nerves as I find the motherfucker at Johnson’s house. What the hell is Dex doing here? And with one of Kingston’s men? Do my eyes deceive me?
Little turncoat. I smirk.
Once I find my Peach, I’ll deal with him and his betrayal. But for now, I have my eyes on my prize. My car is parked a few houses down. But I can still see it all. They’re not very discreet. The white sheet is stained. But I guess it does the job of covering up the corpse. Still. You’d be a fool not to piece together that the two men in suits are up to no good.
People see what they want to see, though. I don’t know why I’m surprised. So for Dex and his little friend here, they’re just a couple of suave bastards moving a piece of antique furniture.
But I know better.
And I’m pissed they got here first. Now, I can’t have a chat with Johnson to see if he knows where my little Peach is. After they pull away from the curb, I check the time on the radio.
I don’t have much time before the clean-up crew will get here. With a flick, the cigarette butt soars out the driver’s side window. Then I jog inside. The first floor is left untouched, but a spot of blood stains the cream carpet on the stairs. I follow it to the crime scene. They’re gonna have a hell of a time cleaning this up. A blood splotch the size of a basketball is at the foot of the bed in the master suite. Interesting. When I spot a laptop on a dark table, I grin. Then I step around the mess and sit in the office chair. Johnson’s computer is password protected. Figures. I glance over my shoulder and inspect the murder scene one more time.
The clean-up crew will be here any minute. I don’t have much time.
Fucking passwords.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I take a few stabs in the dark. But a bloodcurdling scream makes me pause. I turn around and find the culprit. With a wicked grin, I take in the little boy. His backpack falls at his feet as his wide eyes look like they’re seconds from popping out of his head.
“Hello,” I greet him. “Perfect timing. Is your mother home too? Or is it just you?”
His feet stay planted in the same place for a split second. Then he’s racing down the stairs as fast as his little legs can carry him.
The chase is on.
My laughter echoes throughout the eerily silent house as I latch on to his shoulder at the bottom of the steps. Dragging him back up the stairs, those same little legs kick at nothing but air. He’s a feisty little fella. I shove him toward the computer.
“What’s the password?” I demand.
“W-what?” the little bastard squeaks. The scent of piss accompanies his confusion.
Annoyed, I lift my chin toward the computer and repeat, “What’s the password?”
“I-I don’t know it.”
I pull the knife from my pocket and let the light glint off the sharp blade. “Better think of something, little boy. I’d hate to have to persuade you.”
“P-please—” he starts.
My lips stretch into a wide grin. He snaps his mouth shut.
Waving my hand through the air, I quip, “Please. Continue. I love to hear people beg.”
The sound of an engine rumbles down the street and cuts our conversation short. I cock my head