Page 188 of Pleasure & Prey: Vol. 2

“So.” That’s all I get from over the phone for a good minute. “It took longer than I thought.”

That’s…not what I expected. I blink a few times, trying to figure out what he means by that, and look over at the large saltwater tank on its stand between the kitchen and living room. “What?”

Cass sighs. “I expected you to crack a year ago, if I’m being honest. I never expected you to actually stay, uh…” I swear I can hear the dry smile in his voice. “Like Esme. How is she, by the way?”

“Oh, she’s good. She’s doing better. Even though she didn’t ask specifics about Flanagan, she’s not dumb. She knows what I did, and she still loves me for it, or so she says. Umm…” I glance up upon hearing the sound of a car crunching on the gravel of the cabin’s long driveway. “Maybe one day you can come visit me and meet Larkin.”

“Maybe.” Cass doesn’t sound particularly committed or enthusiastic, but he relents with a sigh. “Or you could bring him down here this summer.”

“What’s this summer?” My curiosity is piqued and distracts me from Larkin’s approaching footsteps. “Something with the guys’ club? Are you initiating some kind of annual board meeting?”

“No,” Cass assures me with a small chuckle. “Jed could never.” He pauses again, like he’s not exactly sure how to say what he’s trying to tell me. “Wren and Hazel got engaged on New Years’. They decided they want to get married this summer, on the anniversary of when he met her, chased her through the woods, and killed a camp counselor for her.” Cass sounds less than thrilled about this idea, but a smile twitches at my lips as the door opens, admitting Larkin with blood spattered across his face.

He leans in to kiss me, not saying a word when he sees I’m on the phone, and goes to the kitchen sink to turn the faucet on full blast.

“They’re getting married? That’s so sweet! I mean, it’s not unexpected. I just wasn’t sure Hazel did things that publicly.” Last I heard, her crippling anxiety kept her home a lot.

“Wren’s been working on it with her. They got a dog. Well, he got her a service dog with Sloane’s help. It’s trained for Hazel to help her in public, and fully certified to go on her trips with them. Once they’re back from Rome this summer, they’re going full throttle with the last of the wedding prep. You’re invited.” Cass’s explanation is clipped as always, though I can hear the undercurrent of approval there. From what I know, he’s always liked Hazel, even if he isn’t so vocal to anyone other than Winnie. If anyone knows his secrets, it’s her, and I doubt she’d be willing to spill.

“Am I actually invited?”

“Yeah. You and a plus one.”

“Please tell me New Wren is part of the wedding.”

Larkin gives me a quizzical look, but I shake my head, silently promising to explain. I watch as he wipes the last of the blood off his face with paper towels that go in the burn bin by the door, along with the shoes and old hoodie he was wearing.

Cass sighs. “Hazel insisted. So, yeah. He’s their ring bearer, from what I hear.” He pauses. “I need to let you go, as long as everything is okay?”

I don’t miss the hint of concern in his voice. For all that he’s never been the most forthcoming person, I can still tell when he actually gives a damn. “Everything’s perfect.” Then I say my goodbyes and tell him to say hi to Winnie for me before he hangs up and I set my phone down on the island.

“Hi,” I greet officially, resting my chin on my hand as I watch Larkin move around the kitchen to get himself a bottle of water.

“New Wren?” He cocks a brow. “That was your friend, right? From back in Ohio?”

“Cass. I was telling him about us. Well, less about you and more about me. He’s the one I, you know, met in a mental hospital after stealing from you.” I can’t help the little smile that curves over my lips as Larkin rolls his eyes, and I wait a moment before I continue. “He invited us out there this summer. One of his friends, Wren, is getting married. New Wren is a cat that this girl found and…” I trail off, realizing how long and convoluted a story it is to explain Jed, New Wren, and just…everything.

“Old Wren gets jealous of New Wren,” I say at last. “So New Wren, the cat, is going to be their ring bearer.”

That gets a snort from Larkin. He sits down on the stool next to me, and without a word, leans forward to press his lips to mine. The kiss is sweet, rather than aggressive. So is the way he cups my face in his hand. “Missed you,” he sighs. “I wasn’t sure I would. But I should’ve known. You’re…” he trails off with a huff and nips my lower lip. “Mine.”

“That could’ve been romantic,” I scoff in reply at the word he chose. Then bite at his lower lip as well, though his hand snakes up so he can grab my throat, keeping me just inches from his mouth when he sits up straighter.

“It was very romantic,” my boyfriend argues. “You’re mine. Not my girlfriend, my partner, or my lover. Those things can change. You could have others in your life with that title.”

I haven’t, and I don’t intend to, but he’s clearly not done, so I don’t interrupt.

“But when I say you’re mine, I mean forever. Remember what I told you, Sierra?”

The fact I can’t get him to stop using my real name makes me shiver a little, though I haven’t decided how I feel about it. Anytime I try to correct him, he tells me no, that Tova is the mask I made for myself to hide amongst the sheep in Seattle.

Sierra is the monster he’s obsessed with.

“You’re mine until the day you kill me, or the day we die.” He drags my face up to his, kissing me hard and brutally. I’m forced to stumble off the bar stool, sending it clattering to the floor, but Larkin doesn’t seem to care. He urges me between his thighs, one hand still on my throat while the other grips my hair.

Our kisses are never just kisses. They’re fights for dominance and competitions to see who can leave deeper marks that last longer. When my teeth find the junction of his neck and shoulder, I bite down, loving the soft murmur of approval that it pulls from Larkin. But to my surprise, he doesn’t immediately bite me back. Instead, he scoops me up into his arms, eliciting a yelp from my lips, and he tosses me over his shoulder to carry me up to the lofted bedroom above the main floor of the cabin.

Within seconds, I find myself on my back on the bed, the ceiling spinning above me. Larkin leans down onto the bed over me, temporarily blocking my view of the ceiling and providing me with something much better. “It’s very traditional to invite me to your friend’s wedding,” he informs me, standing to strip slowly out of his shirt and unbuckling his jeans.