Page 14 of Double Down

"I don't, Angel. How well did you know her?"

She breathes in and holds it so long I think she won't answer. "We weren't friends. I didn't like her. The only reason she got ajob here was to get close to one of you. She used to brag about 'taming' one of you and being your rich little hot wife."

I snort. "Poor girl. She didn't have a chance."

"Really?" Phoenix turns just enough to see my face. "She’s beautiful.Wasbeautiful."

"She was plastic," I say. "Hollow and fake. There was nothing any of us wanted from her except a warm wet hole. Even if that wasn’t true, none of us would've looked twice at her. We're all caught up on one particular pain in our ass."

A smile threatens her lips but doesn't quite break.

So I lean in and whisper in her ear, “I know what’s mine. Even if the others are too stupid to admit it.”

"I hated her for trying to take you from me," she mutters. "And I think her death is my fault. If I hadn't come here—if I hadn't signed that stupid contract…"

"The only person responsible for her death is whoever killed her," I say, rinsing the conditioner from her hair. "Don't regret signing that contract. Don't ever regret what finally let me be with you. I know I don’t."

Instead of answering me, Phoenix reaches up and winds her arms around my neck.

I know Phoenix hurts as deeply as I do. I know how much pain she feels, but not for this. She can’t suffer any more for the actions of others.

She turns fully in my arms, presses her body to mine. And then her lips are pressing against mine. I can’t help returning it, stealing her pain and claiming it as my own.

Need rolls through me, and my hands ache to not just touch, but worship. I want to drop to my knees and worship her until the last twenty-four hours blur to nothing.

Then I want to take my blade and I want to cut away the parts of her that are infected, the rotting ideas and self doubt that will consume her if they are not removed.

If only it were so easy.

Her hands grip my shoulders. Her mouth parts under mine. She lifts a long leg and hooks it over my hip, lining her wet heat against my cock. I could take her right now. God, I need to claim her, to fuck her tight little cunt until nothing else matters.

But not like this. A quick fuck in the shower won’t be enough, she is too far gone for that.

"Angel," I warn.

"Please," her voice cracks. "Make me feel something good."

This isn't supposed to be about sex, and I know it isn't. Not for her and not for me. It's deeper. More intimate. I've had sex with more women than I can count. It's never felt like this—never been this personal.

“You don’t want to feel good,” I say, giving voice to the same dark thoughts I know are plaguing her. I can see them in her eyes. “You blame yourself, and you want to be punished. Do you think my cock will give you the atonement you crave so badly?”

Those big beautiful eyes stare up at me, a single tear tracking down her cheek and getting lost in the water from the shower.

“I can punish you, angel. I can and I will drag you to hell and back so you can recover from this, but not tonight. Do not make me do this tonight.”

“Just make me forget, Storm.” Her plea is my undoing. “You can punish me later.”

I kiss her again, knowing she sees me as clearly as I see her, and neither of us flinch away from it.

“Okay, Angel.” I turn her around, draw her back to my chest. I sit on the bench and settle her in my lap, her legs straddling my thighs. I part her gently.

"Close your eyes," I whisper.

She obeys. I lower the handheld sprayer to a soft stream and run warm water over her. My free hand cups her breast, thumb grazing her nipple, following the path of the water.

She gasps but stays quiet, eyes closed like a good girl. I can just see her in profile, her lashes beaded with droplets; her mouth opened on a silentyesss…

I angle the stream lower, down her belly to the vee of her thighs. She tilts her hips, offering me access. I slide my fingers to part her and direct the water over her clit—indirect at first, then more focused.