think about what her other possible motivations could be, but I figured they existed. No, the main reason I’d come was to figure out why she’d reached out to me.
But it didn’t look like I’d get any answers. Not now and probably not ever.
At least I’d had a good lunch, and now I thought I’d treat myself to dessert. I might as well get some sugar in my system. Once I finished, I’d head back to the ranch and see if Bradyn had heard from his father.
It wasn’t until I motioned for the waitress to come over that I realized people were looking at me…with weird expressions on their faces. And looking at their phones, then at me again.
I frowned as the look registered.
Fear.
They were scared of something.
Of me?
What. The. Hell.
“Delia Check.”
I froze, half-turned in my seat, and watched three police officers walk toward me. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell them that wasn’t my name anymore, but I couldn’t speak.
“Delia Check, also known as Delia Phoenix, you’re under arrest for the murder of Clancy Traylor.”
My jaw dropped.
Fuck me.
End of Darker 2, The Inquirer.
Continue the story in the final book, Darker 3: The Fugitive, coming October 9th.
Until then, turn the page for a free preview of The Pleasure Series ->
One
It happened during my last session with my court-appointed therapist. She'd given me two pieces of advice that I decided to follow. The first was to not let anyone define who I was, to be an individual who was comfortable in her own skin. The second was to have a healthy sex life. I remember thinking that was kind of strange, considering I was only eighteen at the time.
Somehow, I doubted this was what she pictured when she'd imparted those words of wisdom.
The man beneath me moaned as I rode him. The muscles in my thighs were starting to burn with each rise and fall, but I didn't slow. I kept my eyes open, my head down, but I barely registered the pretty-boy features of the young man I'd picked up just an hour ago. My hands splayed on his muscular chest, helping me balance.
“Fuck, babe, you're so tight.”
Okay, so I hadn't picked the guy for his eloquence, but he had a nice thick cock and no issues with me calling the shots. That's what mattered.
I flexed my muscles the way I'd been taught, and he swore again. “I work out,” I said and flexed again.
I leaned forward, and he pushed himself up on his elbows, his mouth latching on to a pale pink nipple. My eyelids fluttered as he sucked on it, his tongue and teeth teasing, but I didn't close my eyes. I always fucked with my eyes open… always. Lights on. No exceptions.
“Harder,” I said and ground down, the angle allowing just the right amount of friction on my clit. I was close. The pressure inside me was at the point where I had to come or explode. “Come on... baby.” I almost tripped over not knowing his name, but I caught myself. “Suck harder. Make me come.”
Technically, I was doing most of the work, but he deserved a little credit for his nice cock and the wonderful things his mouth was doing to my breast, especially when he followed my directions. Never underestimate the importance of a man who does what he's told.
“Ah,” I moaned as the suction increased, sending jolts of intense pleasure from my breasts straight to my throbbing pussy. I moved one of my hands to the place where my body joined with his and my fingers found my clit. I rubbed it with quick, rapid circles, the combined friction and pressure making it hurt beautifully. I always needed that edge.
“Fuck, I'm gonna...” The guy's words turned into a loud grunt as his hips jerked up against me, his final thrusts hard and fast.
The hand not between my legs moved to my breast. Even as I felt my partner's cock begin to pulse inside the condom, it was my turn. A light pinch and twist to my nipple, and I was there. My muscles tensed and my pussy contracted around the thick shaft inside. The nameless young man swore again, his face a mask of pain-pleasure. As I descended from my high, I rolled off him, and his now-sensitive cock slipped out. I lay on my side, breathing heavily and enjoying the little bursts of electricity racing along my nerves, the aftershocks of a pretty good orgasm. Eight on a