Wicked as Lies (Wicked & Devoted 3)

Slowly, she approached and started to kick off her shoes.

Cash grabbed her arm. “Keep the heels on. As soon as you lose the rest of your clothes and get on your back, legs spread, they’ll look sexy as fuck. Hmm…” He groaned as he grabbed his obviously stiff cock through his sweatpants.

She felt sick and powerless, terrified and angry—and she hated all of it. But she hated him even more.

He lurched at her, pointing her way, and Tessa could smell the booze pouring off him. “Oh, I see your face. Don’t start feeling sorry for yourself. You’ve earned this by thinking that you’re in charge and keeping me from banging you. But that all changes tonight.”

“You’re never like this when you’re not drinking.”

“I’m not myself when I’m sober. I’m a sniveling pussy. I worry about stupid things like being polite and your ridiculous female feelings. But when I have vodka, I’m free. And I see things much more clearly. You and I live under the same roof, and you’ve already had my baby. That makes you mine, and if I want to fuck you, I’ll fuck you. I’m not going to tell you again. Get over here, lift your skirt, get on your knees, and open that dirty fucking mouth.”

If she did, he’d use her horribly at best. At worst…he really might kill her.

God, she didn’t want to die, not when her death would leave Hallie alone. She still had so much life in front of her, and right now she wished like hell she’d taken the opportunity to tell Zy that she thought he was strong, amazing, wonderful, and that she was sorry she’d ever let Cash back in her house because she didn’t love her baby daddy. She loved him.

She had to think of something. Anything. This couldn’t happen. Sure, Zy would be here, probably in less than two minutes. But without a way to get in her house and without any support from the police, she was doomed unless she could get herself out of this scrape.

“Do you want me to get you more vodka?” If he drank himself into a stupor, she’d be able to slip away. “Your bottle is empty and—”

“No, I want you to stop stalling and give me a blow job, you stupid cunt.” He lunged at her and grabbed her arm in a cruel grip. She gasped as he jerked her against his body. Then he tangled his hand in her hair and pulled on the strands mercilessly, seeming to take delight in her chin trembling in fear and the tears filling her eyes. “Oh, I like you afraid of me. I should have done this sooner. Just like I should have done this.”

He grabbed the front of her blouse with both hands and pulled. Fabric ripped, buttons pinged, and the cool air that had come in with the open door breezed across her chest. Tessa tried to wrest free, but Cash grabbed hold of her bra, working his fingers under the band just between her breasts. “You’re not going anywhere until I’m done with you.”

Then he shoved her to her knees as he bent to hike her skirt up. Once he’d wedged it around her hips, he grabbed her hair once more, anchoring her in place. With his free hand, he worked at the drawstring of his sweatpants, lust and power gleaming in his bleary eyes, his fist tightening painfully at the strands at her nape when it took too long to undo the knot. Finally, he loosened the ties, shoved his pants around his hips, and took his cock in hand, guiding it toward her mouth.

Every instinct told her to turn her head or bear down with her teeth. But if she did either, what would he do to her? To her daughter?

While she tried to think of some way to escape, he jammed the blunt tip of his penis against her lips in warning. “Open up. And make it good.”

God, she didn’t want to do this…but she didn’t see a way out. For that alone, she’d hate Cash forever.

As she sat frozen in indecision, she heard a jangling, followed by the slide of metal. Then the door crashed in. The knob banged against the wall of her foyer.

Relief surged when she saw Zy fill the doorway, looking strong and furious and hell-bent on saving her.

He charged in their direction. “Let her go.”

Cash blanched and cursed, frantically yanking his pants up to cover his junk. “How the fuck did you get in here?”

“Key.” Zy pocketed the shiny object, giving him two free hands, which he curled into fists that promised pain if Cash didn’t relent.

“You gave him one?” Cash hissed as he yanked mercilessly on her hair.

“No.” That was the truth, but she was so grateful that he’d apparently swiped hers and copied it. She’d think about why later.