Shallow River - Page 106

Though they feel like two dead logs, I lift my arms and wrap them around her body, bringing her as close to me as humanely possible.

“It will always be like that with us,” I promise. “Communication is important to me, River. I’ll test your limits and introduce you to new things, but I will never do anything to truly hurt you. And the moment you don’t like something, I’ll stop and it will never happen again. I want to show you what sex between two people is supposed to be like. Two people who respect and understand each other.”

She’s deathly silent long enough for me to question everything that just came out of my mouth. But then a sob wracks her body and tears begin to pool in the divot of my neck and shoulder. Panic blooms in my chest.

“Did I say something wrong?” I ask, rushing to pull her body away from mine so I can look her in the eyes. She protests, curling deeper into body and wrapping her arms around me tightly.

“No,” she says weakly. “You said everything right. You’re perfect.” The anxiety lessens but doesn’t completely let me go.

“Why are you crying?”

She sniffles. “Because I’ve waited my whole life for someone like you. And now that I finally found it, I’m fucking terrified of losing it.”

I close my eyes, a harsh exhale releasing the lingering panic. I grab either side of her head and softly lift her head until her wet, red-rimmed eyes are looking back at me. My heart seizes and contracts. She’s so goddamn beautiful it hurts.

“I get it. That’s how I’ve felt for months now. But if I have anything to do with it, River, that won’t ever happen.”

Her eyes close, her long black lashes clumped together with tears splaying across her reddened cheeks. She relents and nods her head.

“Okay. I can accept that.”

“I HATE TO RUIN our little high, but… I need to go see Barbie.” Not we, but I.

Can’t lie and say those words don’t deflate my high like a fucking balloon.

“Right now?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Why?” I question, sliding my foot into my boot and lacing it up. Her scent is all over me now and if I was a lesser man, I’d never want to shower again.

She sighs. “I need to collect rent.”

My brow furrows. I thought she was done going there for something so trivial. I highly doubt Barbie pays River very much in rent. But maybe she’s worried about money. I suppose without Ryan, she figures she’ll need to start supporting herself again.

“We both know that’s not safe, River,” I say calmly, resting my elbows on my spread knees and lacing my fingers together. I look over at her, studying her blank face. She’s sitting on the edge of the bench, her spine straight and her own fingers clasped tightly together. She looks like she’s on the verge of running.

“I know,” she agrees. Her downcast eyes lift to mine. Something is lurking in the depths of her honey orbs—an emotion I can’t pinpoint. A rock settles in my chest and my stomach curdles like I drank spoiled milk.

“You know,” I echo slowly. “What if Billy is there?” I prod, recalling the boogieman from her childhood and the man who beat her to a bloody pulp. The man I’m dying to get my hands on and conduct my own torture on. If I wasn’t studying her like an archeologist studies hieroglyphics, I would’ve missed the slight flinch at the mention of his name. The reaction stirs all kinds of feelings inside of me. It doesn’t matter how much River tries to hide it—she’s terrified of Billy.

All the more reason to get acquainted with him.

“He won’t be,” she states firmly, sure of herself. I don’t know how she could possibly know that, but if I know anything about this stubborn woman is it doesn’t matter what I say, she’s going to go anyways.

“I’m coming with you then.” Her eyes widen and whip to me. A protest forms on her tongue, but I tighten my lips and give her a sharp warning look, shaking my head once. Her shoulders deflate in defeat. If she knows anything about me, it doesn’t matter what she says, I’m going to come anyways.

Twenty Three

River

I FUCKED UP.

The moment those words left my mouth, I knew I fucked up. I should’ve known better than to tell Mako I’m going to see Barbie. But I didn’t know how to leave after we just did… well that, and it not be awkward. You don’t just leave with a ‘see you later’ when someone fucks you the way Mako fucked me.

My stomach tightens with heady desire and a sharp thrill for the millionth time when I recall what we did only twenty minutes ago. It’s fucking pathetic of me to already want to do it again. And again. And a-fucking-gain.

I need to see Barbie, though. I’ve waited far too long already, too busy cocooning myself in the house and away from prying eyes. The Ghost Killer—or Billy—is still out there. I was hoping to gain more information from Barbie as I try to figure out how the hell I’m supposed to tell Mako who the Ghost Killer is. He’s g

Tags: H.D. Carlton Dark
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