Page 73 of White Raven (Nevermore Duet #2)

“Don’t,” he smiled devilishly, refusing to let her stop, and thrusting himself up into her.

“Don’t you dare. I’m fine. I’ve got you.

” He held both wrists tight, and moved with her, picking up their pace and moving her hands out towards her sides as he leaned forward and sucked her nipple into his mouth.

Her skin took a darker color, and she felt her eyes burn as her toned ass slapped against his thighs and that blessed cock throbbed inside her.

The smell of his blood trickling down his chest made her mouth water, and combined with the sensation of the bliss between her legs, it nearly sent her over the edge.

Rhaena fucked him harder, tightening around him, and dropping her face to meet his.

The look on his own face was awe, and lust.

“Jesus,” he huffed. “You’re so fucking beautiful. How could you ever call yourself a monster?” He met her pace, and she moaned, throwing her head back as her teeth grew longer, and her gums slightly bled. “Come, baby…take me with you.”

Two more sharp thrusts, and they both nearly screamed with release.

Every space between where their bodies met was soaked, and their scent was salivating.

She trembled as she collapsed against his chest, heaving short breaths, and willing the beast within her to settle while her body took its time to return to its normal appearance.

They laid there for several silent minutes, until breathing came a little easier, and the peace of knowing she hadn’t sent him running settled into her soul.

Rhaena turned her chin up on the crook of his shoulder, and he stared at her longingly. “You’re okay with this?” she whispered, nursing the short wound to his chest.

“You don’t think I can handle it?” he smiled.

“It’s not a matter of whether or not you can handle it. I hurt you.”

Brandon softly shook his head. “You didn’t hurt me. That was the single-most satisfying fucking sexual experience I’ve ever had in my life.”

Rhaena chuckled through her nose and nestled into his body. “You’re a fool. And you’re taking a huge risk. We don’t know how bad I could get.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong. We don’t know how incredible you can get. And I don’t know about you, but I’m perfectly happy to test that theory.”

“You don’t think you’re biting off more than you can chew, Jenkins?”

“Don’t know…why don’t I bend you over this couch, and find out for myself?”

Rhaena felt her pulse speed up, and blood rushed in her ears. Her sloshing cunt tensed around him, and her skin heated. All it had taken was a few choice words. “And if I come after you with these talons again? What then?”

Brandon snickered. “I think there’s some chains in your closet.”

Game. Set. Match.

Brent had thought that seeing this woman would be at the bottom of a long list of things Wren would want to do, but…as they walked into the main entrance of the community hospital, she hated to tell him that he was completely wrong. It did get her thinking, though.

“If this is a legal matter, shouldn’t we be meeting her at a lawyer’s office?”

Brent pushed the button on the elevator and stuffed his hands into the pockets of some loose-fitting jeans that looked brand new. “What office would that be, Red?”

“Fair point.”

She watched him smile and nod at a few familiar-looking nurses that looked like they were making their way to the cafeteria while they waited for the doors to open.

He seemed lighter. Happier. More relaxed.

A whole different Brent Stratford than the polished stickler that Sarah fell for, once upon a time.

She didn’t even realize she’d been staring, until he pointed it out.

“Sadly, this particular elevator tends to be a little crowded…if you were thinking about getting a piece of this bad-boy,” he smirked, nodding down at his crotch.

Wren snorted. “Please don’t ever call it that again. Idiot.” He nudged her arm with his elbow, and she slammed hers into his tit.

“Oww, shit . Fine… ‘The Panty-Shredder’ then.”

“Oh, my God… stop .” Wren shoved him as the doors opened, and they parted to let a few people out before laughing their way in. Only two nurses stood behind them as the car started moving up.

“Mr. Stratford?” one of them asked, urging them both to turn around.

“Miss Browning!” he smiled sweetly, lighting up like a Christmas tree. “How are you?” He reached an arm out, and the older woman leaned in, and they lightly hugged before pulling apart.

“I’m well! I almost didn’t recognize you. You both look… fantastic ,” she smiled, looking them both over. Wren returned her gesture and nodded. “Miss Vintorri, your eye looks great. Like it never even happened. Warms my heart to see you together.”

Together.

Wren and Brent glanced at each other, unsure how to respond—unsure…exactly what they were. The most awkward of silences sat like a boulder between them all. Brent cleared his throat. “Are you on Dr. Ambrose’s shift today?”

“Yeah, but only until six. My husband is home from business this week and I think we’re gonna have a night on the town. She told us you’d be stopping in with your girlfriend. I was hoping I’d see you before I left.”

Girlfriend…

It was hard not to notice that he intentionally avoided her stare…or that he seemed to be getting a little hot in the elevator, if the tugging at the collar of his knit sweater was any indication. “I, uh…she’s—”

“Keeping him busy,” Wren cut him off, winding an arm around his back, and bumping him with her hip. “Wearing off the new. You get it.”

Nurse Browning grinned approvingly. “I never trust newspapers, but I’m glad the few things I read were right. You both went through so much. We’re all really glad you have each other.”

Devil take the damn press…fucking tabloids.

The doors opened behind them, and Wren glanced over her shoulder. “Thank you…you know, for everything you guys did for us. We’re really grateful. This is our stop.”

“Well, it’s our job, and we’re happy to do it. It does us all good to see our patients come out on top. I’ve got some lab work runs I’ve gotta do, but I hope we see you again.”

Brent nodded as they made their way out. “You will. Thank you again.” They waved politely and started down the hall, and she could feel him tense with every step. “Thanks for that. I’m sorry I used that particular word. I should have warned you…or at least asked first, I wasn’t thinking.”

Wren smiled to herself, looking ahead. “Shut the hell up. You’re not sorry.”

He chuckled as they approached the nurse’s station.

“You’re right.” He stopped them at the desk, and turned toward her, taking her waist. “So…that mean I get to call you my girlfriend?” His hair was growing out, and it hung over his brow, accentuating that shit-eating grin. Wren leaned a little closer.

“Is chivalry dead, bitch-boy?”

He pressed his forehead against hers and ran his tongue over his bottom lip, and she couldn’t help but bite down on hers.

“Wren Vintorri? Will you do me the honor…in the same hospital that I accidentally flashed you my ‘nice ass’ and left with a boner…” Wren scoffed, recalling the night they’d made out in her room. “Of being my girlfriend?”

“You are so fucking cringe.”

“That a yes, then?” he asked, pulling her flush against him.

“I hate you…yes.”

He kissed her. Deep and slow. All the sappy and romantic shit she painstakingly avoided was becoming less and less disgusting by the second, until—

“Ahem,” a voice cut in. They paused, mid-liplock and opened their eyes.

“I ah…hate to break this up, but I’ve got a surgery in an hour.

” They turned their heads to see Dr. Ambrose smirking at them over her stupid glasses—glasses Wren almost figured were fake at this point.

She sure hadn’t needed them to find Brent’s body parts that day at his apartment.

“Right,” Brent stumbled, peeling away. “S-sorry.”

Wren narrowed her eyes at the good doctor, sizing her up. It couldn’t have gone any better if she’d planned it. Flag planted.

“My thoughts exactly,” Wren spat, smirking right back. “Isn’t exactly as comfortable as his apartment.” One of the nurses was flushing pink with the effort it was taking not to look up from her computer. Dr. Ambrose didn’t seem flustered enough.

“Or the elevator?” she fired back.

Cunning wee bitch.

Brent turned five shades of red. “How did you—”

“How did you think you got back to your floor?” Dr. Ambrose laughed, crossing her arms, and tucking a clipboard under one of them.

“That was you?” Wren asked, suddenly realizing who the kind soul was that hit the button.

“Mmhmm. I can accept shame and defeat. Moment of weakness. Can we bury this hatchet now? I’ve since shelved the pom-poms.”

Well…Ambrose-1, Wren-0…

“Parlay,” Wren smirked, dipping her chin. Brent shifted uncomfortably next to her.

“You can follow me,” Ambrose chuckled, and turned to lead them down a hallway on the other side of the desk.

It was hard not to feel some level of pity for Brent as he nervously dragged his hand through his hair.

However accustomed he was to having a couple of chicks fighting over him, he seemed like he was getting his comeuppance for what had transpired that day, and the new Brent Stratford was clearly waving the white flag.

Wren grabbed his hand, interlocking their fingers, and squeezed.

He finally relaxed when Dr. Ambrose sat them down across from the desk in her office and scooted a thick file towards them.

Something he knows.

“So, everything’s in here. The victim, like I said, didn’t have any next of kin, and her instructions were very clear in her will. The medical examiner was nice enough to send these over so you wouldn’t have to go to his office. I told him I knew someone who could help.”

I bet you did.

Her snide mental tongue lashing would have to wait. She wasn’t pushing the file towards Brent…she was pushing it towards Wren. Wren lowered her brows.

“Why are you giving this to me? He’s the lawyer,” she said, poking a thumb his way.

“See for yourself.”

Wren reached forward, and pulled the folder into her lap, opening the front. After reading a few lines, her stomach dropped, and her heart along with it. Nell had left everything she owned to her .

“Oh my—Oh, my God…”

“You must have been really close. I’m sorry for your loss, Wren.”

Brent peered over to look at them, and she handed everything over to him so she could reel in her shock, and confusion. “This has to be a mistake. We’ve only known each other for a few weeks .”

“Nope,” Dr. Ambrose said, shaking her head. “No mistake. That paper on the top is proof of that.”

“It is,” Brent agreed, still reading over it. “She had them notarized. As legal as an eighteen-year-old.”

“Gross, Brent.” She didn’t even look at him, even as Dr. Ambrose snorted at her remark. All she could do was stare forward…blankly. “Nell…”

“You just need to sign these, Wren. All the tabbed pages, and then I can take them up to the courthouse and get them filed for you.”

“I don’t understand this. Why would she do this for me?”

“Maybe it’s in here?” Brent said, handing her a sealed envelope with her name on it.

It felt heavy in her hands. Wren figured it was the weight of all the wrong surrounding Nell’s death, and the grief she felt after only knowing the woman a short time.

Maybe it was that grief that was proof of why Nell would leave her anything at all.

Some mutual understanding, and common ground with a youngster that cared more about the simpler joys in life.

The pieces of human history that would outlive any tech.

Wren raised her head to see Ambrose staring at her.

“What was her cause of death?”

“Umm…hold on,” she replied, sorting through a few more papers.

She adjusted her glasses and held one close to her face before speaking from behind the page.

“Looks like, according to this, Anelle Kincaid suffered from atrial fibrillation—um…you probably know it as ‘AFib’ …she also had signs of angina, and that’s commonly a symptom of something bigger, like coronary artery disease.

” She lowered the paper and gave Wren a sympathetic look.

“Cause of death was listed as a massive heart attack. Probably a long time coming, really…but the situation must have scared her out of her wits. Or caught her off guard.”

Brent placed a gentle hand on her forearm, and the doctor seemed like she was trying not to notice the gesture. “So…Foley was right. Sykes didn’t murder her.”

Wren snapped her face at him. “She might not have stabbed her in the back, but she twisted the fucking knife. I’d be fine with the idea of someone like Nell dying like a dignified old bat, peacefully in her bed.

If Sykes hadn’t been there busting those pieces out of the shop, Nell would probably still be here. ”

“While my opinion might be a little less than valued, I’m sad to say I’ve had to take my turn telling loved ones that my patient didn’t make it.

I’ve had so many heavy conversations like this.

I do try to find the silver lining when I have to sit down and explain.

For what it’s worth, Wren…dying peacefully in her bed sounds like a good way to go…

but if the value of what she’s giving you was any indication of what her passion was, or what made her truly happy?

I think she took her leave exactly where she would have wanted. ”

Ambrose-2…Wren-0.

“But she was alone,” Wren breathed, hanging her head and sliding a thumb across the envelope.

“It doesn’t mean she wasn’t ready. Someone at her age, knowing the condition her body was in…it looks like she’s been well-prepared for something like this. She definitely had her affairs in order.”

If Ambrose wasn’t careful, she was going to force Wren to respect her. Maybe even like her a little. Seems Brent’s taste in women wasn’t all that shitty. Sarah, C.J., and now…

“Do I have to sign these here?” Wren asked.

Brent stepped up for that one. “No, we can do it at the courthouse. I can sign off on it as your lawyer.”

“We’ll do it tomorrow. I wanna go home.”

Brent nodded and held the folder open as he extended his hand, waiting for the envelope. Wren shook her head and tucked it into the front pocket of her hoodie as she rose from her chair. As they started to leave, Dr. Ambrose stood and cleared her throat.

“I am sorry…again. For everything. I wish you both well.”

Wren turned in Brent’s arm as he ushered her out the door.

“Thanks, doc. You’ve got my R-E-S-P-E-C-T .”

She snickered, and took her glasses off, nodding in appreciation. Wren didn’t say anything else as she followed Brent out.