“Fuck you,” she whispered.
“Mmnh,” was all she got in response. Leaning down, he scooped her up behind the knees and carried her inside.
For it seemed that Moriarty might be a villain. But he was not, in fact, a bastard.
Because he did not leave her alone that night.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Sidney didn’t know what to do.
Sherlock was not the kind of man to—he didn’tdothings like—but she didn’t know what else todo.She was supposed to seduce him. But she was also playing Doctor Watson, not Sidney. Not a woman. And while she didn’t think that mattered too much as Sherlock swung in neither and no direction, it still felt…worse somehow.
A betrayal of trust.
A betrayal of friendship.
It feltdirty.
Wrong.
Sherlock was still holding onto the binoculars, watching the scene in silence. His breath coming in shorter, faster gasps. He hadn’t spoken. He seemed unable to look away from whatever he was watching.
Should she…?
Could she evendare?
What if he slapped her away? There was no opium to blame this time. No rampant drug and alcohol abuse to blame it on. And she was taking advantage of him.
“We have our proof. We should go.” She cringed. She had to get them both out of this situation.
“I…y—yes. We should go,” he agreed, but didn’t move. Didn’t lower the binoculars. Didn’t stop watching as Moriarty and her sister—Sasha, how could you?
No, she understood. Deep down, she really did. “Can’t blame the man. She’s a beautiful woman. And he seems smart enough to feed the beast from time to time.”
“Feed the beast.” Sherlock repeated the words as a low murmur as if he were debating them.
“Big, dumb animal…nothing smart about it. Nothing intelligent. Just…simple biological needs. Like eating. Drinking. Sleeping.” It was time to roll the dice. Time to take the chance. Time to see if she was about to get smacked to hell or about to take this story in averystrange and uncomfortable direction. She placed her hand on Sherlock’s thigh where he sat in the chair in front of the window. He went rigid, but didn’t move.
And he didn’t lower the binoculars, though his grip on them was tighter than before.
“Just people, fulfilling mutual needs. Things they were born with. Things outside their control…” She slipped to her knees in front of him, wincing as she put pressure on her bad one. But she’d deal. She gently urged Sherlock to part his legs. To her surprise, he let her.
Christ, he was in a state. It already looked painful.
Whatever Moriarty and Sasha were doing, watching it had Sherlock ready to burst.
She wasn’t jealous. No. Not at all. Not atall.
Not even a little bit.
Not even a tiny little bit.
Besides, now I get to have him.She ran her hands up his thighs, smiling to herself as he shuddered at her touch. He wasdefinitelythe kind of man to whimper. Good. She liked the ones she could break.
Clasping his belt buckle, it was time to show him exactly what she was capable of.
Sasha wokeup lying on the floor of a library. With its large, black and white marble tiles and dark lacquered wood.
