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With a body at my feet and blood on my hands, I drop the knife then reach into my pocket and pull out my phone.
Riley texted me earlier and I’ve re-read the message over and over.
Suddenly, all the anger I feel toward her dissipates. As quickly as she pisses me off, she calms me just as fast.
I want more than anything to text her again. The thing is, I should have never texted her in the first place. It’s too much of a risk. Things could go very bad if The Elders find out we’re in a relationship.
I read her message again…
My Angel: How did you get my number?
I wish I could tell her I’ve had her number since the day I first saw her. The weeks that followed that monumental moment were filled with copious amounts of research and digging so that I could find out everything there is to know about Riley Cross. Even when I knew I wouldn’t be able to hand over the information I garnered to The Elders, I continued to search because I needed to know all about her for myself.
Where she was born. What size bra she wears. I know she has a small scar on her abdomen from having her appendix removed when she was only six years old. My heart pangs with agony at the thought of Riley enduring such pain as appendicitis.
If only I could go back and love her from the second she was brought into this world, I would have kept her safe from all pain, even if it meant us leaving this world together to escape it.
I read the message again, my back pressed firmly to a tree.
My Angel: How did you get my number?
I pop the button on my jeans and reach into my pants, getting a tight hold on my dick.
With the dying man at my feet, I stroke myself. He gasps for air, holding tight to his neck while blood seeps out. The same blood that’s on my hand, lubing up my cock.
Ignoring his presence, my thoughts go to her—to us.
With my phone gripped in one hand and my cock in the other, I imagine Riley naked in bed when she sent this message to me. I bet her fingers were buried in her pussy when she sent it.I know Riley likes to pleasure herself. I’ve watched her countless times, and in my head, every time her lips parted, she was moaning my name.
I imagine her soaked fingers running up her smooth stomach before pinching her pink, hard nipples. Then she’d stick them in her mouth and taste herself. I bet she tastes so sweet.
One day I’ll find out how sweet her arousal really is.
I envision her hips thrusting into the air while tapping slowly into the phone.
Once she got the words typed out, she probably gyrated the phone against her pussy while pretending it was my cock.
I push my pants down farther, springing my cock free, then I pump myself faster, head resting back against the tree as I look at her words on my screen.
“Fuck, Angel. I need you so bad. Need to feel you. Taste you. Hold you.”
My entire body flushes with heat and a dire need to combust. I keep stroking as cum expels from my cock all over the dying man at my feet.
“Motherfucker,” I grumble as a text from Maddox comes through. I stuff my cock back in my pants and zip them up quickly.
He’s lucky I finished when I did.
Maddox: Where the hell are you? 10-33!
10-33 is our signal for an emergency, or something important, but lately, Maddox uses it when he so much as needs one of us to bring him a roll of toilet paper to the bathroom.
With a sticky hand, I drop my phone back in my pocket. I’ll talk to him when I get home. No sense in wasting time.
Two desperate eyes look up at me and the son of a bitch is still alive, fighting like hell for his life. I rub my hands together, using his blood and my semen as lotion for my dry skin.
The bastard mouths the word ‘help,’ and I laugh, bringing my hands to my chest.
“Me? You really think I’m gonna save you? Look,” I kneel beside him, “I know what you’re thinking. I’m fucked up. But love makes you do crazy things. And I, Ridge Foster, am madly in love with Riley Cross.”
