Page 56
Were you at my house last week? Did you leave the scarecrow?
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
His eyes roam my body, and his pupils flicker. “I have a thing for innocent little lambs.”
My stomach flutters the same way it does every time I’m with him. “I am not a little lamb, and I’m not innocent.” I can’t tell if it’s coming from a place of good or evil—Lamb of God or Lamb to the Slaughter—and since when does he have a thing for me?
He rubs his thumb along my wrist as if inspecting it. “Yeah, you are. Everything about you exudes innocence.”
“Funny,” I mutter, kicking off my shoes. “I’m pretty sure I was just called the devil.”
He has no witty response to that.
His presence is heavy as he reaches down and grabs the hem of my dress to pull it off me. My hand reaches for him to stop. “Don’t,” I whisper.
“Your dress is wet, and you’re going to ruin my satin sheets.”
For whatever reason, I let him pull it off, and it’s not because of his satin. His eyes linger on my legs and drift up to the belt, and heat finally hits my cheeks—although it hardly seems to matter anymore.
“What the hell is that?” His hands find the top of it, his thumb playing with the little lock. Heat rolls through my body, firing all my senses.
He moves my knees, and I spread them slightly. “It’s a chastity belt.”
His eyes linger on the lock between my legs—the only thing stopping him from seeing what I’m bearing underneath.
“I see that, but why are you wearing it?”
I can’t help the smirk that forms on my lips as I gaze up at him. “Because I’m a little lamb. I thought that’s what you liked?”
Desire flows through his eyes as he watches me and runs his hand along the facial hair on his chin. It’s a look I recognize. He’s looked at me like that from the very beginning—from the first day, the first moment we met. His finger pauses at the little buckle, and I nearly combust.
God, save me from eternal damnation.
He rises and walks to his dresser, grabbing me a T-shirt and tossing it at me. I scramble to get it on, not knowing what just came over me. It’s like I’m possessed when I’m near him.
My breath is heavy, thinking about what he told me he and Tommy did to Cindy.
I curl my knees into myself. “What was it like?” I ask him.
He tilts his head and sits on the end of the bed. “What was what like?”
I flick my gaze away momentarily as heat fills my cheeks. “You said you and Tommy both had…relations with Cindy.”
He tilts his head back and arches a brow. “You want to know what it was like fucking the preacher’s daughter?”
I bite my lip and nod. “I was a preacher’s daughter once, too.”
His eyes darken, and he runs his thumb along his bottom lip as if this is some sort of joke. I shift under his intense gaze. “Why do you want to know that?”
I cross my legs, and my nipples pebble under his thin T-shirt. “Because I’ve never done it before, and I’m curious. Please tell me.”
He gives me a vicious smile. “Tell me one thing first. Has Tommy kissed you yet?”
My face tenses. “I’m not answering that.”
He leans closer, his hand playing with the hem of my shirt. “How far did he get with you under those bleachers? I’m guessing it wasn’t far. First base? Second?”
I frown. “I don’t know what that means.”
