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Taking advantage of that, my tongue moved inside, toying with hers until her hands were shifting down, grabbing my hips, and pulling me more tightly against her.

My cock, needy since damn near the first night I met the woman, was hard and straining.

A moan escaped her as I ground my hips against the juncture of her thighs. Reaching out, I grabbed her knees, yanking her legs up until they wrapped around my hips, then rubbed against her, muffling her whimpers and moans with my lips as I started to drive her up.

But then there was the sound of her apartment door slamming, making me shoot back from her, her legs falling from my hips, slamming limply against the cabinet.

Flushed, Sylvie jumped down, turning and pretending to scrub her hands again.

I took a couple of steadying breaths, trying to calm my overactive body down, ignoring the ache in my balls that was begging for relief.

Soon, I promised myself as Junior’s footsteps came into the bedroom again.

“What’s the verdict?” I asked.

“That fuck must be making good money,” Junior declared.

“Then why the fuck is he living here? No offense,” I said, glancing back at Sylvie.

“None taken. I would move if I could afford it,” she said, shutting off the water.

Junior ripped the hand towel off the holder, tossing it at her.

“But other than that, no. I don’t think he’s the guy. He’s too into his games, and some chick he plays with that he’s never seen, let alone met. No signs of any of Syl’s shit over there. Guy seems to have a weird obsession with those adult Lego sets. And, for fuck knows what reason, microgreens.”

“Oh, that part I do know. He says that microgreens are so packed with nutrition, that they balance out the complete shit he eats all the time,” Sylvie said. “He tried to convince me to start my own system once,” she added at our blank looks.

“Alright, so, camera search,” Junior said, reaching into his pocket for a flashlight, then going through the apartment, turning off lights and drawing the curtains.

Syl and I used our phones as flashlights, each of us combing each room over and over.

“Nothing?” Sylvie asked, almost sounding disappointed.

“I mean, there’s no certainty. Cameras can be hidden anywhere these days. But I’m a solid ninety percent sure,” Junior told her as he flicked the lights back on.

“I know I should be relieved, but all I can think about is how he probably just wanted to watch me in person through a window or something,” Sylvie admitted.

I wanted to reassure her that there was no way that was the case. But, well, we had proof that the fuck liked being in her place.

“Would fingerprints help you at all?” I asked, looking at Junior as I thought of the windowsill in the bedroom.

“If he has a criminal record, yeah. Otherwise, not so much. But I will collect a sample or two before I head out.”

“Need anything else from Syl?” I asked, thinking of getting her back to the clubhouse, back to my bed.

“Any of your exes obsessed with your underwear? Or with any fetishes in general?”

“I mean… not really, no.”

“Anything,” Junior prompted. “Liking to shave you, smelling your feet, getting rough with you? More than the occasional ass slap or bracelets?” he asked, gesturing to his throat.

“No.”

“What about one who liked helping you pick out lingerie, or asking you to put some on?”

“No. And, I mean, I’m not a guy, but don’t you think this feels more like something from someone who hasn’t already gotten to be with me?” she asked.

“Just trying to cover all the bases, honey,” Junior said, shrugging.

“Never made any headway on the traffic cameras that night?”

“The one at the end of that street wasn’t working,” Junior told us. “There was nothing to go on.”

Damnit.

I mean, I wasn’t disappointed that Sylvie would need to keep staying at the clubhouse, in my bed. But I hated not knowing who was out to get her.

Sure, she was safe with me, or at the club. But I couldn’t guarantee that at her work. And it felt a little too overbearing to insist I be there day in and out.

Not to mention it would interfere with club duties that I still had to handle.

I knew Brooks would understand, but that wasn’t the point. I never asked someone else to do my work for me.

So I wanted to find this sick fuck and take care of him, so I knew that Sylvie was safe.

Did that mean she might want to go back to her apartment? Maybe. But I was hoping by then, we’d have gotten a little more physical so that things could… continue.

I mean, I didn’t understand that shit. Why I wanted to be around her, be with her. That wasn’t how I operated. But I also wasn’t someone who went against their gut instincts, either.

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