Home > Sidetracked (Mindf*ck #2)(15)

Sidetracked (Mindf*ck #2)(15)
Author: S.T. Abby

I just don’t mention that Kyle slammed a broken piece of a mirror there. The same mirror they broke after they used it to taunt my brother.

I have a mirror for Kyle too. Several mirrors. He’ll get to watch everything I do.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, sounding so heartbreakingly genuine that tears threaten to return to my eyes again.

“It’s not your fault. I didn’t want to ruin the moment, but I didn’t want to lie either.”

“You don’t have to lie,” he says, the words making me bite back more truth than he could ever handle. “It’s amazing you survived.”

He has no idea.

“I flat-lined twice. Technically I died twice. Then I was reborn. At least that’s how I like to think of it.”

His eyes meet mine, and he slides his hand up my side as he leans forward. His lips capture mine, and his weight comes down from behind me. It’s another position I never thought I’d be comfortable in, but it’s so naturally effortless with him.

The kiss is reverent, soulful, and it actually means more than anything he could say right now. I don’t stop kissing him, even though the angle is awkward.

His hand slides around the front of my body, lifting my hips just enough. I moan into his mouth when I feel him pushing inside me, skin-to-skin. He slides in so easily, despite how tight the fit is. His hips rock, slowly pushing in and out, taking me as though he could fuck me all day.

And I’d let him.

His phone rings and rings, but he doesn’t stop. His lips never move from mine, and his hands grip my hips, moving a little faster. I’m the one to finally break the kiss so I can suck in a sharp breath as one of his hands slides around, finding my clit.

I rock against him as his pace quickens. He slides his knees under my hips, giving himself better leverage to push in harder, faster.

The phone doesn’t shut up, but we’re too lost in each other to stop. His hips stagger, losing the rhythm, and I know he’s close. Just as I think I’m not going to follow him over the edge, the orgasm comes out of nowhere, and I’m crying out his name before I can stop myself.

He jerks against me, squeezing my hip tightly with one hand, while his other hand continues to rule me, driving my orgasm on and on.

I collapse, and his hand finally stills, pinned between my body and the bed. He comes down on top of me, his body shuddering in the aftermath as he drags his lips over my shoulder.

“Your phone,” I say, panting once again.

I can run up five flights of stairs without my breathing changing at all, yet sex with Logan turns me into a sweaty, breathless mess.

“Let it ring. I have three hours before I’m back on duty.”

He kisses my shoulder again, and I grin against the pillow, feeling my eyes grow heavy.

“You’re perfect,” he says against my cheek as his lips brush a kiss there too.

“I wish,” I say softly, lifting his phone from the nightstand where it is. “Answer. It could be important, and I know you’re only not answering because of me. I won’t get mad.”

He groans, still inside me as he takes his phone. “That’s not the only reason I’m not answering. I’ll never answer my phone if I’m inside you. Not even I’m that much of a company man.”

I snort indignantly, then laugh into the pillow, feeling him smile against my cheek as he kisses it again.

He pulls out of me, and I clench my thighs together, already feeling the loss. And the mess. The mess I haven’t felt since…

I wait for the wave of nausea to wash over me.

I wait for the panic to seize me.

I wait for the buried memories to resurface and steal this moment away.

But it doesn’t happen.

Another grin curls my lips. He’s just healed another small piece of me.

If only he could make me think like a normal girl again, I might could be the perfect person he wants me to be.

But for now, I’ll take the illusion he’s offering. I’ll savor it like there’s no tomorrow.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I hear him saying as he comes out of the bathroom, picking up his boxers from the floor.

When did he get fully naked? I swear I lose all thought process when he’s pressed against me.

I head into the bathroom, giving him privacy since he’s sitting down—still naked—on the edge of my bed. But even as I shut the door and start cleaning up, I can hear him.

“Hadley has been with the team and has been sleeping in the office. They can check the security footage if they need it.”

Oh shit.

“Then get clearance for them to see the time stamps of the window he was killed. She’s been with us. There’s no way she drove all the way out there and killed her stepfather.”

That fat bastard has already been found? Damn him. I should have stabbed him even more for ruining this moment.

“No. No. No. They can’t haul one of ours in for questioning. If they want to talk to her, they can do it on our turf with our rules. They don’t get to fuck with her reputation for any reason. Understood?”

A harsh breath escapes him, and I lean against the door, listening.

“What kind of pictures?” I hear him ask quietly, but there’s a dark edge to his tone.

“I’ll be right in.”

Definitely should have stabbed that motherfucker more. And weighed him down with stones. And chummed the water for sharks or something. Are there sharks here?

There would have needed to be a lot of sharks for that douchebag.

But sheesh. I’m only so strong. Not even I’m able to break the laws of science, and it was all I could do to push him out to the water.

“No,” I hear him saying. “We won’t help them find whoever did this. They want to question her—fine. But fuck him and fuck them for trying to get our help on it after trying to haul Hadley in. Keep an eye on her. Don’t let them near her until I get there. Understood?”

I open the door, seeing him stab his legs into his pants, keeping the phone wedged between his shoulder and his ear. The sun has been high in the sky for a while now, though I’ve barely noticed it through my dark curtains.

Logan never asked where I was all night. Or maybe he didn’t know I was gone.

No. No. The cops at my driveway saw me come in. Yet Logan never questioned where I’ve been.

“Yeah, I’m at her house now. And I’m going to kick someone’s ass for interrupting it. Then I’m coming back and getting a solid five hours of sleep. None of us are going to catch him if we’re all running on empty. As for this Kenneth guy, I’m glad he’s fucking dead.”

A small grin spreads on my lips. I don’t know why it sounds like he’s condoning what I just did. Or why I feel a sense of pride.

I banish the smile, removing the crazy thoughts before I say something stupid aloud. Normal people aren’t proud of removing a life from the earth and sending them to hell and all that.

“You’re not kidding. I may bring her in with me, if she’ll come.”

His eyes dart up, meeting mine as I stand in the doorway.

“Yeah,” he says, still talking into the phone. “I won’t be staying long. I just want to make sure they aren’t trying to pin this on Hadley. Then I’m coming back.”

He stands, coming to me, fully dressed now. He’s probably a pro at talking on the phone and getting dressed.

“I’m still working on that part, but hopefully,” he goes on, smirking at me. “Be there as soon as I can.”

He looks down the length of my naked body, leisurely raking his eyes over me as I lean against the wall. “As much as I want to keep you naked, I need to go in. I want you to come with me, because we’ll be coming right back. I’m not ready to leave you alone just yet.”

I roll my eyes. “The cops can sit outside again. Duke can have his room back.”

It’s a horribly stupid concession.

“Duke got called away on this homicide they just called me about. Hadley’s stepfather was killed. He’s requesting to interrogate her.”

He meets my gaze again, and I try to remain a stone wall as I think over the real reason Duke is probably there. I doubt it’s to question Hadley about the monster I killed. If anything, he wants to know the rest of the monster’s secrets…the darkest ones he confessed to me. The ones I wasn’t expecting. The ones Lindy will have to share.

Then I realize an expression would be a good idea.

“Were they close?” I blurt out, trying to recover from my cold-as-ice routine slip.

“No,” he tells me, grabbing a dress from my closet and handing it to me.

I arch an eyebrow and move past the proffered dress to grab some yoga pants and a T-shirt. As I pull on some underwear and a bra, he drops the dress to the bed, blushing a little. I’ll wear a dress on a night when I have on makeup and can do more than pull my hair in a ponytail.

“Is she okay?” I ask, imitating normal questions.

All of my normalcies are usually an imitation.

“She’s…I don’t know. He’s a sick bastard, apparently. Hadley just told me she was a confused kid back when she ran away. Now I wonder if—” He cuts his words off and runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

“Let’s go,” I say, pulling my hair up as soon as I finish putting on my clothes.

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