NEFARIOUS: B723 SERIES BOOK THREE, page 34
I answer her with a grunt and a prayer that she just falls asleep so I can get out of this bed in the morning without anything happening.
I don’t want to hear what she thinks about me because it’s an open invitation to a path I don’t want to venture down.
That I can’t venture down.
“And I think you kinda like me too.”
“What are we seven?” I scold, letting my eyes rest and waiting for them to roll back in peaceful slumber.
Amirah sighs then stays quiet. A feat I’m happy about because the more she speaks in that sweet little tone of hers, the more I want to do what I told her I was going to do.
A peaceful silence falls in the room, welcoming me into its open arms until I hear a very faint but extremely clear moan escape Amirah’s lips.
Oh, no.
Fuck, God, no.
There is no way she is playing with herself in the same bed as me.
I mean, that’s not in her DNA. She’s kind and humble and gets flustered with the things I say.
But there’s a little darkness that lies in everyone, isn’t there?
Curiosity begins to strangle me as exerted exhales escape slowly from beside me. I hesitate for a moment before slowly bringing my head around, finding Amirah with her eyes snapped shut on her back.
“Rus.” That word comes out strangled, and Amirah jolts in surprise. Her hand flies from between her spread thighs, and I seize it, wrapping my fingers around her wrist. “I thought I told you to go to bed.”
“I-I…couldn’t sleep.”
“So you decided to climb into my bed with no clothes on then play with yourself when you thought I was sleeping?” With my body blocking most of the light streaming in, I can still imagine her face flushing red.
“I can go—“ I move her hand back down to her center and growl out my following words.
“You think I can go to bed now knowing that you got your pussy wet? Rus, you got me fucked up.”
“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” she stutters, and whether she did or not, it doesn’t matter; I’m fully awake now.
“But you did,” I manage to get out without snapping.
“I’m sorry. This helps me sleep when I’m…restless.”
“Don’t tell me that,” I grumble, squeezing her wrist to keep myself from roaming around her bare. “You do enough to me, Rus. No need to add any more shit on though you already did.”
“Are you uncomfortable?” Her offhanded question catches me by surprise as she peers over at me with her long strands splayed over the pillow. “Are you upset?”
“No.”
"That wasn't convincing. I can just go...back." She points to her abandoned bed. “Over there.”
I prop the side of my head with the palm of my hand. “Finish. I want you to come.”
“I don’t think I—“
“Show me how you like it.” I release her and cover my hand over the soft top of hers. “At least one of us is going to tonight.”
Amirah doesn’t move an inch, and I don’t press her any further. Instead, I lean over her lips and keep them hovered there until she does.
“You’re not scared to, are you?” She slowly shakes her head, keeping our gazes securely locked together. “Do you wanna show me, Rus?”
"No."
I smile. I can't fucking help it. Her honesty is refreshing compared to the contaminated bullshit her sisters come up with to make what they’re doing alright.
"I think you still owe me." I brush my index finger up her hand. "So, unless you want me to pull your pretty little panties down and take that ass, I'll settle for this."
"That's not fair."
I perk a brow. "Isn't it?"
"I mean..." I slide my whole palm down the rest of her hand so that our fingers are somewhat aligned. With my pointer finger, I use hers to begin circling her clit.
"I'm wide awake now, Rus. Show me what you do when you're alone."
"I think you've breached enough of my privacy," she breathily replies, eyes still locked on mine.
"How can I make it up to you?" I lazily ask, my focus trailing down to her mouth. She must have the same idea because she leans up and presses her lips against mine.
Her kiss is tender, innocent, and giving me the green light to take hold to dominate. I know this woman is built with more aggression from just hours ago.
So, if she wants me, I’m playing bitch tonight and making her give it to me.
“That was refreshing,” I mutter between our lips. “But I know you have more than where that came from, Rus.”
“I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or—“
“Oh, take it as one.” I feel her fingers begin to circle her clit and the soft exhale brush up against my mouth. “I saw you come once. I want to see you do it when you’re not riding my cock.”
“Mills—“ Her tone is apologetic and, frankly, I’m tired of hearing it. We’re past that now, I think. I don’t need it anymore. I desire something she’ll never freely give up or want me to do.
Everyone she knows besides Laurent and her father will die.
And then what?
She and I skip off somewhere and leave happily ever after? Our lives didn’t link up like that. I literally met Amirah at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Textbook definition.
I give her my tongue when hers reaches for it. My cock, which has been trying to remain calm, zaps to fucking life when I feel her fingers move more urgently under my touch.
She’s reaching, and I’m diving, neck-deep, my head barely above water as I lay in bed with the only woman out of the three that I could stand.
Who made me insane when she didn’t answer my questions.
Who stood her damn ground.
When I took everything from her.
Who turned herself and her sisters in.
And kissed me when I became her father’s only hope.
Who made the decision for me to come to Maryland just in case she needed me.
Which she did.
After this, I knew my mindset and life would possibly stay tilted and never quite ever be straight on the narrow again. But I didn’t expect for me to enjoy the aftermath of the woman who fucked me twice and made me come once.
Maybe I am more fucked up than the other guys.
Amirah’s free hand comes around to lace through my hair, preventing me from pulling away. Then she immediately retracts it.
“What’s wrong?”
Her fingers stop moving as she says, “I don’t want to restrict you.”
I kiss her again before saying, “You’re not making me do something I don’t want to do. If I didn’t like you near me, you wouldn’t be in this hotel, much less me in Maryland. If I didn’t want you in my bed, I would’ve kicked your ass off faster than you could’ve said a word. If you repulsed me so much—“ I nudge my lips with hers. “—I wouldn’t want to kiss you so much. My dick wouldn’t be hard, and just being near your wet pussy would probably make me puke all over you. Got it?”
She bobs her head. “Yeah.”
Mouths fused together again, Amirah gradually begins to work herself. My hand that once laid upon hers moves up her naked torso and past her belly button. I run them up and down her ribs before grabbing her left hip.
When I play with the hem of her panty line, Amirah becomes needier. More tongue and lips, quickly chasing her orgasm with my help.
However, she’s doing nothing for my growing desire but wants to act on it. To shove her panties aside so I can drive my cock inside her and swallow her moans like I’m doing now.
Every lapse of her tongue and brush of her lips sends another teasing wave of lust flipping and crashing through my body.
At this moment, she’s the only thing I’m desperate for. Flirting with her release is probably the closest, and most I’ll push the line between us. Anything else will be idiotic and damning.
I’m a killer.
She’s an aspiring fashion designer.
I guess the two of those wouldn’t get into cooties together unless a model stabbed another with the sharp end of a heel.
Amirah arches her back, and I move my lips to her cheek and down her jawline.
“Chase it, Rus.” I lick down the column of her throat. “You’re so fucking hot right now.” She moans at my appreciation as I inhale her coconut scent and fight the urge to palm my dick and rub one out through my pants.
“Oh, God,” she mutters. “I’m so close.”
I continue licking and tasting; her breathing is broken and shattered, pleading for the release of her own making. I’m just the sidekick and supporting actor in this play, but I’ll gladly team up with them anytime she needs the help.
Sinking my teeth into the crook of her shoulder and neck, Amirah breaks apart. Her body shakes a little as she does as I go on with kissing away the punctures of my teeth marks.
Her butt hits the mattress as she sighs, and I smile while giving her one last peck to her neck.
“Mhm, Mills,” she groans, sounding wholly sated. “Let me—“ I cut her off with a swift kiss to her mouth because I already know what she’s going to say, and I won’t let her do it.
If Amirah soothes away memories of what happened to me, I’ll rely on her. She’ll be like my savior, bringing me back to life, and I’ll always want her there.
Marty and Bishop got married and still got to keep B723.
I’m caught up with a rich girl with ambitions, beauty, and a family full of fucks. Women who concocted a plan to use, abuse, and take my life.
Birthdays, holidays, and family dinners were more than jacked, and I didn’t want Amirah’s guilt to hang over her head forever.
I’m a walking, talking, and now kissing reminder of the past few weeks.
There’s no point.
Another round table with the family, and I'm starting to hate this piece of furniture. This is the third time I've awkwardly and anxiously sat here over the last month or so.
However, with Dad at the head of the table, I feel more at ease.
Laurent sits at my side as always, a shield in case I need one. I never quite noticed how I’m never out of sight while he’s here. All the things that transpired in his lifetime between himself and the two wicked sisters of Beverly Hills, a plaguing thought to keep me safe and sound.
Meanwhile, Dad chides everyone in attendance for their bad behavior and horrendous actions. Primarily, it's directed at the other three silently stewing in irritation at his input.
Me, I'm not listening to a thing he's saying.
Instead, I can't stop thinking about last night. How much of an idiot I am. Why I thought it’d be a fantastic idea to run my fingertips down my body and touch the place that ached from the moment he approached me at the bar and saved me from Dallas’s yammering.
Apparently, my lust noticed how exhausted Mills looked. After twenty minutes of hearing his soft and steady breathing, he was sleeping.
That it'd be in the clear.
I should've gone back to my own bed.
Scratch that; I shouldn't have climbed in it in the first place. But after that kiss at the bar and telling me he was in Maryland for me in case I needed him, it activated my little schoolgirl crush.
And that crush is going at warped speed, hitting a meteor, or maybe combust at going too fast here if I don’t cool my jets.
I'm entirely fascinated by him, highly attracted, and feel surprisingly soundly safe when he’s around. The latter wasn't something I ever believed I’d get to with him of all people.
But with Solange and her cruel intentions, it wasn't just physical; it was mental too. I have no idea why he wants to stick around with someone who did unspeakable things, but I'm not complaining anymore.
Except, there’s a bigger picture here and not so bright of a future when he wants to take out half my family. I’ll never be able to swallow that fact down, nor will I ever be able to give him the green light to take action on his revenge plan.
Yes, they're horrible, and they've done unthinkable things but to off them? I can't stand behind that.
And he won't let off.
I'm hovering over a perilous line here. I should do what I've always done and focus on school, my career, and the new job I start in a few days. I'm busy enough; I don't need to add on a guy.
A guy that wants to seek vengeance on women sitting at this table.
“So, if I hear one more thing that has been done to anyone seated here," Dad announces, his voice thick with authority. "There are going to be severe consequences. Am I understood?"
He's answered by silence, which isn't surprising. My sisters' pride won't allow an apology, and I really don't think they'd ever be sorry for what they've done. They just followed my mother's plan and took on their own. Keeping Mills wasn't for Dad's health; no matter what my sisters claim to be accurate, it was for their own selfish needs.
"I didn't get a response," Dad presses. "Have I made myself crystal clear?"
"Got it, Dad," Laurent replies to fill in the stillness of the room.
"What are these consequences?" Solange counters, her hair neatly pulled in a bun. Her dark red lipstick pursed in pure annoyance that Dad is laying down the law.
"Well, let's see," Dad says. "Allowance will be cut significantly. That car you're driving around can be paid for by you getting out getting a damn job."
"John," Mom cuts in softly. "You've made your point and—"
"Apparently, I haven't." His tired eyes narrow in on my mother over the bowls of fruits, bagels, and waffles. "I remember coming here when I found out about the man you kept hostage in my basement and warned all of you to cease this bullshit."
"Your basement?" Mom's voice hikes up, alluding that she's about to throw one of her classic French fits where things begin to fly, and she sputters in her native language so quickly that even I have a hard time keeping up with what she's saying.
"Kids, you may leave," Dad commands. "Your mother obviously has a lot to say. But this is the last time I'll be speaking of this. The last."
Laurent and I immediately rise, which prompts Odette and Solange to do the same. And when I was hoping they'd go the opposite way out of the dining room, they follow us.
Which means the fight isn't over.
We just breach the door frame of the living room when a hand snatches me by the back of my shirt and spins me around.
Odette is in my face in no time, seething with her Chanel 5 perfume and a perfect set of white teeth. Her height on me only attempts to be aggressive, but I was ready for her the moment we left the room.
"How many times do I need to warn you?" my oldest sister leers as Solange flanks my side. "Do you think getting us cut off from Daddy is going to work out for you?"
"I'm sorry, were you not wearing your big girl panties last night?"
Laurent wedges himself between Odette and me, peering down at her with, I’m sure, a glower that says back the fuck off.
"Do you have Rhett's little friends keeping you safe now?” Solange censures. "Remember what I said about—" I snap my head to her, hating her probably worse than the other sister directly in front of me.
"Get away from me," I glower. "You both did this to yourselves. You're disgusting and mean. But don't worry, sister, unless you have another man locked in our basement; I think I ran out of secrets."
"I haven't." Solange's lips curl. "Vince."
I scoff because, little does she know, her so-called ride-or-die sister already spilled the beans about that lie. "Prove it."
"I won't need to. Once word gets out that you're a potential suspect again and that Odette and I know of your kinky little ways, you'll be ruined. Your career will be fucked. And you won't have a pot to piss in big enough for Dad to buy you and crawl out of."
I wag my index finger at her. "Aw, remember now, I have Laurent over here on my side. Who witnessed your sex slave in the basement." I turn to Odette, who’s now moved to get out of our brother’s glower. "Who has a vile sister who did unspeakable things to her younger brother."
"It appears we're at a stalemate then," Odette states calmly, getting Solange to turn her attention to her. "But mark my words, Amirah, this is only the beginning."
"Save it."
"Alright, that's enough," Laurent chimes in. "You two assholes go paint your nails or something."
"Shut the fuck up," Odette replies, not even bothering to acknowledge him again. "Or I'll fuck you again.”
It happens before I realize I'm doing it, but I shove Odette and watch her stumble back in her heels. She quickly catches herself, to my utter dismay, which allows Solange to take her place.
"Don't touch what is mine," she barks out, which sends memories of last night crashing back into the forefront of my brain.
Chase it, Rus. You’re so fucking hot right now.
It’s then that I realize I don’t like my sister calling Mills hers. That she remotely even has a right to say that after what she did.
“Or what,” I challenge back. My need to protect him the most substantial thing I’m feeling right now. Their threats mean nothing. “You got some more guys for me?”
“Do that again, Solange, and I will personally rip you apart,” Laurent exhorts. “You two bitches apparently need a hobby.”
“We did,” Odette says, and I know she’s referencing Mills. It sends a carnal and surprising need to rip her hair out of her head.
“You’re both sick,” my brother spits out. “And you need help. If I find out Amirah has any more trouble, I’m going to get her representation to sue your asses.”
“For what?” Solange spits out. “Sit down, Laurent. You’re just another bitch just like the rest of us.”
“Then I guess when I slap the shit out of you, it’d be fair, right?”
One of them tsks, and I glance at the front door, ready to get the hell out of here and go home. I have a dress to finish that’s due Monday, and it’s fucking Sunday morning. I’m already way behind schedule.
I tap the back of Laurent’s back, silently letting him know that I’m dipping out and I’ll call him later. I don’t want to leave him behind with them, but he’s more than grown enough now to deal with both of them.
