Oaths and Omissions (Monsters & Muses #3)(65)

“L-look man, I didn’t mean anything b-by it,” he manages. “Preston said she was game and that we could have a go at her if we paid. No one knew she was drunk until we’d already started. She hadn’t even had that much to drink, and she agreed—”

“Sam, Sam, Sam.” Sighing, I wrap my arm around the back of his neck, slapping my palm down over his mouth. “Not the answer I’m looking for. I already know you’re a piece of shit, now tell me who the brain behind your operation is.”

His brows furrow, and I sigh. Bloody pillock.

“Who does Preston owe money to?”

My hand slides up slightly, and he sucks in air. “Mr. Primrose! Tom. H-he loaned Preston money for some business venture, or something, and Preston l-lost it. It was a lot, too. More than he was ever going to get for his whore.”

His words cause a stutter in the rhythm of my heartbeat, sending ice water through my veins.

Depending on the amount, it sounds like Tom was planning on using Preston for some seedy operation, and Preston likely lied to Lenny about it being from gambling. They were probably working on a laundering front, or some shitty investment that’d wind up bankrupting a company and seeing its assets go up in flames.

It’s the exact scenario I saw play out over a decade ago, only this time with new players.

This time, there’s no hospital to be destroyed. No innocent patients left to fend for themselves, or money to be collected from insurance after the fire.

This time, my father isn’t around to play patsy.

But I am.

If Tom wants to reignite old flames of war, I’m game.

My collateral is certainly worth more to him this time around.

With an exasperated sigh, I release Samuel and swipe the pistol off the floor, aiming it directly at his forehead. His face screws up and then come the tears.

Blimey, those tears.

I’m tempted to close my eyes for a moment and let them sink in. Tempted to lick them off his face and see if they taste as good as they sound.

But I don’t. That would be ridiculous.

“Bro, what the fuck?” he wails, thrashing against his cuffs all over again. “I told you what you wanted to know. Let me go!”

“Unfortunately, I’m not a fan of your answer. Do make sure to plead your case again, though. God might be more lenient on your poor, wretched soul.”

Pop.





“How come you don’t sleep in the bed with me?”

Lifting my head from the Chinese take-out menu in front of me, I find Lenny standing in the doorway to the guest bedroom. Her hair is wrapped up in a terry cloth towel, and she’s clad in nothing but a white satin robe that makes her sun-kissed skin seem even brighter than normal.

Sitting up on the futon, I have to forcibly remove my gaze from the curve of her thighs, exposed just enough that I’m tempted to go over and unveil them completely.

“Believe me when I say it’s better for the both of us that I have my own space.”

Lenny leans against the doorframe. “Are you a cover hog, or something? Secretly hiding a tail?”

“No.”

“Then… I don’t get why you’re in here when there’s a perfectly good bed across the hall.” Picking at the edge of her robe, she looks down at the flood. “Do you not want to sleep with me?”

My cock jerks to life. “Do I want to sleep with you, or do I want to sleep with you? Those are very different questions, and the answer varies based on my mood.”

“Your mood?”

“Certainly.”

Tossing the menu to the floor, I get to my feet and slowly approach her. The pulse at the base of her throat flutters, and I imagine what it might feel like beating beneath my palm. Battering against her skin and my hold with the will to live, struggling for air as she comes violently on my cock.

“For example,” I say, not stopping until our bodies are flush, and I turn hers into the frame, pressing her back into it. “If I’ve had a good, but tiring day, perhaps I’d be inclined to climb under the covers with you and behave. Maybe we could cuddle, maybe there’d be some light petting. But mostly, we’d sleep.”

Bringing my hand up her side, I skim over the soft curves of her hips, the concave shape of her abdomen, and over her shoulders. My hand comes to her throat, fingers spreading, wrapping, as I feel that pulse against my palm.

“What if…” She trails off, her gaze dipping to my mouth for a moment, before immediately snapping back. “What if you’re in a bad mood?”

Tracing the seam of her mouth with my free hand, I pluck at her plush bottom lip, a smirk tugging at my features. She swallows, the sound rumbling in my chest, and I move forward so she can feel the evidence herself.

I catalog her every inhalation, her every twitch and facial expression, gauging at what point I cross a line.

Part of me expects her to be less open. For her to crack under the pressure and shove me away. Maybe this time she’d actually manage to stab me.

Clearing my throat, I trail my fingers from her throat to collarbone, slipping my thumb under one side of the robe. “If I joined you while in a bad mood, I’d probably try to exorcise some demons on you. Tie you to the bed you’ve begged me to be in, fuck you until you pass out.”

“You’d tie me up?”