Page 7 of Whips and Chains (Saint View Murder Squad #2)

VIOLET

T he smell of fried bacon, and early morning sunlight that my broken blinds had never been able to keep out, woke me. And for the tiniest of moments, I thought the entire night before had been a dream.

But then I cracked open an eye, and the warm male bodies tucked around me reminded me otherwise.

I sat up quickly, tugging at the sheet, my eyes widening as I took in X and Levi both passed out in my bed, both still gloriously, one-hundred-percent naked.

Neither of them moved, but I couldn’t stay there. I crept to the end of the bed, getting off it as quietly as I could because waking either of them up felt like a fate worse than death after everything we’d done last night.

I’d let three men fuck me, one after the other, until I’d passed out.

Shit, we hadn’t even used a condom. The proof of that still coating my inner thighs. I slipped silently into the bathroom and cleaned myself up, but the smell of bacon was too good to ignore.

Whip worked his way around the kitchen like he’d cooked for me a hundred times. Gray sweats were tied tight around his muscled waist, showing off V lines either side of his hips that had no business looking that good on a man in his mid-forties.

He glanced up when he heard me and paused with his fingers around the frying pan handle. “Hey, sweetheart.”

I gave him a small smile.

He watched me carefully for a second then pointed at one of the urban landscape photographs that decorated the walls of our living room. “I’ve been staring at those all morning. Did you take them?”

I gave a slight shake of my head. “No. I have no artistic talent. They’re Toby’s. He’s really creative. Photography is his most recent obsession.” I suddenly realized what I’d said. “Was…photography was his most recent obsession.”

I fell silent.

Whip’s expression filled with sympathy. “How you doing? Not about Toby. You don’t have to talk about that right now. I meant about everything after…”

I hoisted myself up onto one of the breakfast barstools to watch him cook. “I don’t know.”

He shook the fry pan, making sure the eggs didn’t stick. “You sore?”

A blush crept up the back of my neck. “Yes. But not in a bad way, exactly.”

He nodded his approval. “Good. Last night was a lot. But you needed it.”

I had. I’d wanted every second of their hands on me. I’d wanted their tongues and fingers and cocks, and I’d had so many orgasms last night I’d lost track of them. “Do you think I’m a slut now?”

He let go of the fry pan so quickly it clattered against the stove top.

“What? Of course not. Jesus, fuck, Violet. You went through something so traumatic last night that words can’t even express how bad it was.

And so you forgot about it for a little while with men you knew and felt safe with.

Having sex to forget is probably the least destructive path you could have taken.

Other people would have used alcohol or drugs. Or worse.”

I supposed that was fair. Whip said it all so matter-of-factly that even my doubts flittered away.

My gaze strayed toward the dish strainer where Toby’s favorite coffee mug sat, waiting to be put back in the cupboard.

I looked away quickly, not wanting to think about the fact he was never going to use that mug again.

“How many people have you slept with?” I asked Whip instead.

He glanced over his shoulder at me and raised an eyebrow. “You asking me if I’m a slut now?” His mouth lifted into a cute grin that was contagious and felt a whole lot better than thinking about Toby.

“Maybe.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. A lot. It kinda comes with the job.” He switched off the gas and scooped an egg onto a plate. He added bacon and plucked two slices of toast from a stack he’d made by the toaster and placed them in front of me.

I reached over the countertop and pushed open the top drawer to grab a knife and fork. “Okay then. How many of them were actually women you wanted to sleep with? Like, ones you’d taken out for a meal and were actually attracted to and weren’t getting paid to be with.”

He stiffened.

I instantly knew I’d asked the wrong question, though I wasn’t really sure why. I shoved a piece of bacon in my mouth to cover how uncomfortable I suddenly was. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” He picked up a piece of toast for himself. “Two.”

“Two?”

“Two women. I’ve only slept with two I actually cared about.”

“Oh.” I crunched my bacon, wishing I hadn’t brought it up, because I was suddenly so jealous of those women my bacon tasted sour. I washed it down with a glass of orange juice.

Whip watched me, but he didn’t elaborate.

“Listen. My guys were here last night, after you and Levi and X fell asleep. They took everything we were wearing last night, as well as my car. They’ve cleaned the scene as well, so there shouldn’t be anything there at the warehouse to implicate you in Toby’s death. ”

I froze. “Toby’s murder, you mean.”

Whip watched me carefully. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

I didn’t, but I knew I had to. I owed them that much after what they’d done for me. They had no real reason to help me, and yet they were anyway.

“Is that bacon?” Levi came into the room from the hallway.

I avoided his gaze; sure my cheeks were pink again.

Whip answered for me, “Bacon and eggs and toast. Clean clothes in the bag by the door if you want to wear something other than a towel…” He glanced up and then laughed at X emerging from the hallway. “Or a robe that’s way too short.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Dude, I can see your balls.”

X might have been unusually subdued last night, but there was no sign of that this morning.

There was indeed sign of his balls peeping out beneath a silky robe I’d bought online twelve months ago that had claimed to be an extra-large but had turned out to be more like a small.

I hadn’t had a hope in hell of fitting into it, but I’d been too embarrassed to return it and ask for a bigger size, even though the sizing had clearly been way off standard.

I’d kept it with my foster mom’s words ringing in my ears about how I should always have a goal outfit, and that’s how she had kept herself so trim over the years.

I fucking hated that robe. It had made me feel like shit about myself every day for the past year, and I didn’t know why I hadn’t thrown it out.

But maybe this was why.

Because seeing it stretched around X was hilarious. Balls hanging out and all.

Levi winced at him. “Seriously, go put some pants on. Nobody ordered sausage for breakfast.

X raised an eyebrow at him. “Says the man whose balls I had a bird’s-eye view of last night. Tit for tat.” But he moved toward the bag Whip had pointed out, giving me a small smile as he passed. “Hey, Omelet.”

The weird nickname he was so fond of barely registered. All I could think about was the way he’d fucked me doggy style last night, plunging into me after Levi had already used me so well.

I was going to be reliving that night in my dreams for a long time. At least I hoped I would be.

It was much more pleasant than the alternative nightmares I also knew I would be capable of.

X pulled on an identical pair of sweats to Whip and tossed a third pair at Levi.

I pointed at the white T-shirts still sitting in the clear plastic bag. “Any of you going to put a shirt on?”

Levi held up the sandwich he’d made with two pieces of toast and filled with the runny eggs and crispy bacon. “It’s a lot easier to wipe egg off my chest than off a white shirt.”

“I need a shower first,” Whip added.

X nodded in agreement. “Same.”

I wasn’t going to complain. Having three attractive men in nothing but matching gray sweats wandering around my kitchen and making me food was something out of one of my romance books. I couldn’t wait to tell Toby all about it.

My heart sank when I remembered I was never going to get to do that. The image of his body lying cold in that warehouse had me regretting all the bacon I’d just eaten.

“It wasn’t me who murdered anyone last night,” I said quietly.

The three of them fell silent, each of them looking in my direction.

Levi’s elbows rested on the countertop across from me, and he set his breakfast sandwich back down on his plate. “Nobody thought you did.”

I nodded stiffly, avoiding his gaze, and instead glancing over at the letter that had made its way onto the coffee table at some point I couldn’t remember. “Someone made me think that letter was from you. But when we got there, the door locked, and it was Dickson inside.”

Levi’s mouth flattened into a hard line. “Then he deserved everything he got.”

“No, he didn’t. He was just as confused as we were about why he was there.

” I forced myself to look him in the eye.

“I know you didn’t like him, but I really don’t think he wanted to start anything with you.

Everything that happened last night…the booby trap that killed Dickson…

the countdown…Dickson was just as much a victim as Toby and I were. ”

Whip’s warm hand found the back of my neck and squeezed it reassuringly. “We need to know everything, Vi. I know it’s hard, but we need to know it all.”

I’d spent the last few hours forcing all thoughts out of my head but now I found them all tumbling out, that burden needing to be shared with someone, so it lightened the load that was too heavy for my shoulders alone.

I told them every gruesome, horrifying detail.

And when I was done with word vomiting my trauma, I waited for a reaction from them.

But it didn’t come. I squinted at them. “Why don’t any of you seem surprised?”

I knew they’d all seen their fair share of dead bodies, but surely men being decapitated in booby-trapped windows and death countdowns weren’t part of their everyday any more than they were part of mine?

Whip sighed heavily. “We need to tell you something now. They aren’t just targeting you. They’re targeting all of us. We’ve been getting letters from them, similar to the one you got last night, for the last few weeks.”