Descent (Steel Brothers Saga #15) - Helen Hardt Page 0,42

Brad.”

“I like doing it. I love doing it, Daphne. I love bringing you pleasure. It pleases me to please you.”

I trailed my fingers over my chest and cupped my breasts. Then I touched my nipples. God, so sensitive. I gave one a pinch and nearly flew off the bed for a third time.

“Feel good?” Brad asked. “Does it feel good to touch yourself?”

“Yes,” I said on a moan. “Feels so good.”

“Make it feel good, baby. I’ll eat your pussy, finger-fuck you, and you make those sweet little nipples feel good, okay?”

His words were crass. But God, they turned me on. How could I be turned on by mere words?

It added a whole new level to what I was feeling.

I closed my eyes, pinched my nipples, reveled in what Brad was doing between my legs, and before long, the feeling I’d come to know surged like an electric current through my body.

“Brad! God, Brad!”

My hips undulated, seemingly of their own accord, as I moved with the rhythm of my body, moved with the rhythm of Brad’s tongue and fingers.

The climax was swift in coming but stayed longer than normal.

“Keep going, baby. That’s it. Keep going.”

As if in obedience to his words, I did. I kept it going. I came. I came. And I came again.

I was lost in a kaleidoscope of swirling emotion and colliding physical sensations.

And then—

Brad was inside me, thrusting. His cock so hard, stretching me into another climax and then another.

“This,” he said through gritted teeth, sweat dripping onto my neck from his brow. “This. This is why I do everything. For you. All for you, Daphne.”

My orgasm finally subsided, but still he pumped into me. Harder and harder and harder, his words still hovering around us.

This is why I do everything. For you. All for you, Daphne.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Brad

Once she’d fallen asleep, I returned to my office where I’d hastily stashed the notes from Morey. I’d thrown them in the bottom drawer where I kept Daphne’s journal.

It had taken every ounce of willpower not to read them as soon as he gave them to me. I’d resisted only because I needed to get home to Daphne. Needed to make love to her. Needed to remember why I was doing all of this.

Had I read them first?

I might have forgotten. Neglected her again.

I had to stop doing that.

Now, though… Now I was going to find out who had taken our friends from us.

I picked up the notes and began to read his hasty scrawling penmanship.

None of the names were familiar to me save one.

The one I’d always known was behind this terror.

Wendy Madigan.

A scream lodged in my throat. I couldn’t wake Daphne and the baby. Couldn’t wake Ennis and my mother.

How had she managed this while she was locked up and drugged?

She’d had help. From whoever had been using my name to sneak in to see her. Had it been Theo? I didn’t know, though he seemed the most likely suspect. Tom was busy with law school and his new son. Larry was busy with law school and his new fiancée.

Neither of them were anywhere near Grand Junction.

And none of their names appeared anywhere in Morey’s report. Only Wendy’s name. She hadn’t been acting alone, but she hadn’t been acting with those three, either.

How had this happened? How had I let it happen?

I’m so sorry, Murph. I’m so sorry, Patty. Fuck. I’m so damned sorry.

My head fell into my hands as my gaze dropped to the open drawer.

And a brick hit my gut.

Daphne’s journal was gone.

Who had taken it? Had she read it herself? Even so, if she had, what could I do? It belonged to her, and I’d kept it from her.

Daphne.

Daphne and my son.

To keep them safe from harm—all harm—I’d do whatever I had to.

Some of it wouldn’t be pretty, but I’d do it anyway.

And I finally understood my old man.

Chapter Thirty

Daphne

Five years later…

The deli owner’s daughter cut the seam on the stuffed dog’s belly methodically.

Inside were all the notes she’d hidden over the years—hidden from Daphne to protect her.

The rape.

The suicide of Sage Peterson.

The names of Daphne’s rapists.

The burning of her journal.

Brad’s infidelity with the woman named Wendy.

The subsequent pregnancy, resulting in Ryan.

The deli owner’s daughter had taken over for the whole nine months that time. As far as Daphne knew, Ryan was her child.

And other secrets. Other secrets only the deli owner’s daughter knew.

She stuffed the notes back into the toy. Then she went to a dresser drawer, opened it, and withdrew a small pad