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Maybe this won't be as hard as I thought…Especially when he’s looking at me like that.
I push off the island, flattening my breasts on his chest. I feel his breath hitch. I look up at him through my lashes and hesitantly trail a finger along the dark stubble on his jaw. His eyelids flutter close. “Look at me,” I whisper breathlessly. “Promise to keep me safe, Cash.”
“Always.” He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, and I turn my cheek into his palm, his breath again stuttering.
“Kiss me.” His whole body tenses at my words but then melts just as quickly. He bends down to meet my lips while sweeping my face up in his palms.
His kiss is searing but gentle, just ghosting across my lips as if he’s expecting me to pull away. When I don’t, the hesitation is gone in a flash and he growls, digging his fingers into my neck and jaw so he can crash down on me. I yield to his drive, responding enthusiastically but passively, letting him think he’s the one in control.
He grinds his pelvis into me, and I let slip a soft whimper. He responds just the way I expected, diving in even hungrier, rolling into me as he sucks and kisses the length of my neck. I inhale sharply at the feel of his mouth, and it isn’t all pretend. In fact, very little of it is.
He grasps me by my throat. Not in a threatening way, just a dominating, desperate way, like he’s aching for control but only if I’ll give it. “Keep making those sweet sounds and I really will fuck you on every inch of this counter.”
“Keep kissing me like that and I might let you.” His jaw ticks, and I know it’s time, he’s like putty in my hands. He kisses me again, deep, languid sweeps of his lips, and I wrap my arms around his middle, holding him close.
My heart is racing, and I pray he can’t tell the difference between how he’s making me feel and the anticipation of what I’m about to do.
One hand slides to his front to distract him while I fiddle with his buckle. And my other hand snakes farther back to wrap around the grip of the gun tucked into his waistband.
My hand doesn’t shake, this is the culmination of weeks of work and even more heartache. I whip the gun out and shove it against his ribcage.
He raises his hands with a smirk. “Damn, baby, you into that freaky shit, huh?”
“Bite me,” I snarl and rotate until I’m no longer up against the island. I take a few steps back, holding the gun out strong and steady with both hands and aimed right at his fucking heart. Somehow he seems more relaxed at gunpoint than he was when I asked him to kiss me.
What a fucking psycho.
I swallow hard with a deep breath. “You know what I find incredible? You don’t even remember me. You were in such a bloody rage that I was an irrelevant detail in the background. A moment that haunts me with crippling nightmares and constant guilt, and you didn’t even commit it to memory.”
“You’re going to have to be more specific. I’ve done a lot of things that match that description.” His eyes are cold and hard, nothing like the softness from moments ago.
“You may have the police tricked or bribed or however the hell you did it, but you don’t fool me, Cash. I know what I saw, and I sawyoumurder my best friend.”
Confusion, followed by understanding, flashes across his features. “The Russian.”
“Beth! Her name was Beth, and you slaughtered her like a fucking animal!” I yell, and my voice is strained with all the permanent pain that night caused.
He speaks so calmly, it’s unsettling. “And what’s your name,a chuisle?”
“What?”
“What is your name? Because it sure as hell isn’t Amanda Jones.” My mouth falls open, and chills erupt down my spine. Suddenly, the gun feels too heavy, and I fight to keep my arms up.
“Harlow.”
“Harlow.”It’s smooth and sensual, like he’s rolling the word around his tongue, seeing how it tastes. “And, Harlow, why did you get a job at my restaurant, worm your way into my life? Why not go to the police?”
Weeks of frustration bubbles up in me like a volcano. “Because they weren’t doing anything! I saw you that night and then I saw you at the Den. I fucking saw you and they didnothing. So, I-I just had to dosomething.”
He nods understandingly. “You wanna do something?” I’m so surprised by him placing his hand around mine on the gun that I don’t pull away. Slowly he raises the barrel to his temple, my hand still tight on the grip under his and my finger on the trigger. His eyes latch onto mine with a strong hold, and he presses the gun harder to his head. “Thendo something.”
1.Penny Lover—Lionel Richie | SummerOtoole.com/Playlists
2.Bad Intentions—Niykee Heaton
Chapter eleven
The Alibi
