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I keep smiling at Jade, ignoring my brother because her hand is touching mine, holding my big hand with her small fingers.
A slap at the back of my head takes me out of my happy moment. “Hey, how about you tell me where I have to clean up, or the next time you hold her hand will be through prison bars.”
“I don’t think they let you hold hands through prison bars,” I retort, my eyes still on Jade. It makes her smile, and she has to bite her bottom lip to stop it.
Another slap at the back of the head forces me to turn to Elliot. “Where?”
“At his house,” I groan. “Where do you think?”
Elliot is a psycho. A manipulator. Borderline narcissist. We argue and fight, and we hate each other sometimes. All the time when it comes to Jade.
And yet, through all of this, he is still my big brother. We might not share the same parents, but we’ve never needed that to feel like family. And like a big brother, he fixes my messes even when he doesn’t want to. Even when he hates me. Even when he’d rather stay with the woman we both love and have been fighting over for as long as we can remember.
“There’s a dead body right here,” Jade says, her nose scrunching up in the cutest way. “And one in the basement, I’m assuming. Can’t we take care of those?”
“You two take care of nothing. You touch nothing. I’ll be back for those. Ethan’s bloody slaughter is more important because anyone can find Andy at any moment.”
He points a finger at me as he grabs his jacket. “Shower. No fucking, no touching the bodies, no leaving the house. You call no one, and you answer if I call.”
“No fucking because you can’t stand for me to touch her when you’re not here, huh?” I smirk.
“No fucking because she’s in pain, Ethan. Your brand of fucking will make her worse.”
I lift my hands in front of my chest, palms out in a sign of innocence. Funny, since they’re covered in blood. “I’ll be good.”
He smiles brightly at the both of us. “You two kids stay put while Daddy fixes everything.”
The moment he’s out, Jade and I turn to each other.
Putting a strand of curly hair behind her ear, she looks at her feet. “It’s really weird when he calls himself Daddy.”
“So fucking weird,” I agree.
She looks up, and we stare at each other for a few seconds. I’d say we last about four before we both throw ourselves at the other. My hands are on her waist as she pushes her lips against mine.
Jade is ravenous. I think it’s the killing.
She hisses as I pick her up, but her lips stay glued to mine. Wrapping her legs around my waist, I walk her to my bedroom.
“This isn’t right,” she moans between two strokes of her tongue. “You and Elliot killing for me shouldn’t turn me on. It’s so fucking wrong…”
I push her against the wall of my bedroom. “We’re on the North Shore. There’s no right and wrong here, baby. Just wrong.”
Her head drops back against the wall as I kiss her, biting until I can see new marks on her again.
“God,” I growl against her soft skin. “I love marking you. I love that you let me do it. That you know who you belong to.”
She moans when I bite harder. I grab the collar of the Thirty Seconds to Mars t-shirt she took from Elliot and rip it off her.
Gasping, her eyes round as she looks at me. I pin her harder with my hips, smiling down at her perfect tits.
When I start playing with her tight buds, she moans into my ear, and I could die right here, a very happy man. “We really shouldn’t,” she pants. “Elliot said—”
I wrap a hand around her neck, cocking an eyebrow. “Don’t even finish that sentence. If you think I give a shit what Elliot says, I can easily prove to you otherwise.”
She nods, her mouth opening in need of air, so I let her go.
“You’re hurting,” I murmur against her skin.
