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Not today.
After I savored one more minute in the bed I’d shared with Kat, all night, I took a quick shower that took longer than anticipated as I was slammed with memories of Kat. I imagined the water sliding down her body, the soapy water dipping between the gap in her legs, remembering the way she arched into my touch. Moaned my name.
My cock stood at attention, and I closed my eyes, letting the memory of Kat down on her knees sucking me off with a smile wash over me while I stroked my cock to satisfaction. It wasn’t enough.
I was scared it would never be enough.
Kat fucking Ashby was in my soul, in my heart and deep in my bones, and she’d made a home there.
I dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with no plans for the day other than meeting up with Jasper later for updates. So far, the team chasing Brendan hadn’t found him and no sightings of Ravager anywhere. Made me wonder if whoever paid him off might have killed him.
And Jasper’s stress levels were through the roof, which meant I needed to get all thoughts of Kat out of my head before I met up with him.
Sniffing a delicious aroma on my way toward the kitchen, I called bacon. And coffee. Which was odd because I knew Kat didn’t cook, like, never.
“What the hell?” The oven was on the warm setting that I’d never used in all the years since I bought the stove. Then I found the note taped to the refrigerator.
Hey Ter—Don’t get excited, I didn’t cook but I did order you a breakfast that you richly deserved. Bon appetit!— KA
That was it, no words of love or affection, just typical Kat snark and a doodled smiley face. Inside the oven was a huge breakfast. Two containers filled with bacon, scrambled eggs, hash brown potatoes, waffles, sausage patties, biscuits and jam. The only thing that would have made the breakfast better, was sharing it with Kat.
Instead, I snapped a selfie getting ready to dig in and sent it to her with a word of thanks. Then I ate every bite to replenish the energy I’d used fucking Kat all night. And all morning.
A text came back quickly but it wasn’t Kat.
Midnight Mass. Noon. Jasper’s message was short and to the point like all of his messages, but something about it set me on edge.
Sure I shot back, ignoring the acid that built up in my stomach. It was probably nothing but my own guilty conscience for lying to my best friend and sleeping with his sister. It was a violation of the Bro Code and I knew it, but I’d denied myself too long and Kat was too tempting.
By the time I strolled into Midnight Mass and found Jasper in his back office, I’d convinced myself it was nothing. He didn’t know. He couldn’t possibly know.
No one did.
“Hey Jas. Why are we meeting here?”
He glared up at me but face became impassive as he motioned for me to sit.
“Just in case any shit pops off again, I’d rather be here instead of the casino.”
It made sense and slowly the feeling in my stomach began to disappear. “You expect any shit in particular to pop off or just in general?”
Jasper shrugged, and I noticed he looked tired. No, not tired, he was exhausted. “Had a visitor last night.”
“Yeah, who?” I leaned forward, elbows on my knees as I mentally prepared myself for another shit storm. For more violence. More bullshit.
“Brendan fucking Rhymer.” His words were calm, eerily so and that bad feeling returned with intensity. “God, that fucker is even more hideous now. His skin looks like a melted fucking candle, and he smells like Hannibal Lecter had a barbecue.”
My lips kicked up into a half-hearted grin, but I wanted more details. “What did he want?”
Jasper sat back with a smirk. “To let me know he was the one who blew up that Lambo in the parking lot.”
“Big fucking shocker. Did he say why?” He had to have a plan if he met with Jasper. In person.
“Wanted me to know it was him. Him. Not Daddy Dearest and not the pervert priest.” Jasper shook his head, disbelief written all over his face.
“Crazy asshole got it in his head that his old man doesn’t give a fuck about him and won’t ever hand over power, so he came to let me know we now have two Rhymers to worry about.”
I could buy that explanation. Almost. “But why tip his hand now? Doesn’t make sense.”
“Hates Mueller and thinks if he’s out of the picture, it’ll make the old man more vulnerable. He’s not wrong. Without the protection provided by the church, The Crusaders would be in shambles.”
His gaze remained fixed on mine, gauging my reaction to everything like he suddenly didn’t trust me. “He’s been watching Mueller. And Mueller’s been watching Kat.”
