Delicious - Page 28

You.I don’t say it. I can’t say it. Yet somehow I reach up, my fingers curling in his shirt seconds before I yank him the rest of the way to me and seal my lips against Jed’s in the stupidest, hottest move I’ve ever made in my life.

Andfuck, it’s just as good as I knew it would be.

He doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t even stop to question as his hand shifts from my face, falling to grip my opposite hip so he can hold me exactly where he wants me. I barely have control of the kiss for a few seconds before he takes it from me, his teeth nipping at my lower lip and the edge of my tongue before he’s tasting and exploring every inch of the space between my lips.

But I want more from him than this. Ineedmore of him, to see what’s under his clothes and run my hands along every inch of him. As if he has the same idea, his hand slips under the edges of my borrowed shirt, dragging it up my body along with his fingers that are splayed against my skin.

I can’t help the soft sound of protest, the small movements I make as all of my insecurities and self-deprecating nature come rushing back full force. But Jed shuts it down with a soft growl against my open mouth.

“No,” he insists, harsher than I would have expected he was capable of. “Don’t you do that, Saylor. Don’t youdaretry to hide any part of yourself from me.” The words make me shudder, and all the heat that burns in my face shoots instantly between my thighs that are clamped around his.

I need him.I need?—

A loud rap on the door makes us spring apart, and my eyes are wide as I stare at him, panting from between sore, bruised lips.

“Fuck,” Jed growls, rucking his fingers through his hair. “Why is he back?” It occurs to me he means Wren, and I let out a groan, falling back against the sofa’s sturdy back. Of course Wren would show up now, just when I was getting what I shouldn’t have.

Well, maybe it’s a blessing in disguise.

“Just let me see what he wants,” Jed sighs, crossing around the sofa and heading for the door. His pupils are blown, eyesfeverish, and his movements are jerky as he tugs at the bottom of his own shirt to make sure it’s back in place.

Had he been as turned on as I was before the knocking had been enough to throw a metaphorical bucket of cold water over my head? From the way he adjusts his clothes before touching the door, it definitely seems like it.

I walk around the couch as well, belatedly registering that I’m hungrier than I’d realized, and slide down to the sofa. I rest my head in my hands as I hear the sound of the front door opening on its hinges.

“Mr. Shaw?” That’s not Wren’s voice, and my head snaps up at the sound, eyes darting for the open space between the doorframe and the wall.

“We have a few questions. Could we come in?”

It isn’t Wren standing at the door.

It’s the police.

Chapter

Fourteen

My breath catches sharply, and for a moment I can’t seem to draw air into my lungs. I sit there, fingers clenched on the edge of the sofa, and when I stare at the two stern, solemn officers at the door, all I can think is one thing.

This could be my way out.

They would take me out of here, and I’d have the chance to tell them everything that’s happened. I could be back in my bed, in my too-loud apartment that’s not very welcoming, with my almost dead plants, by sundown.

Hell, they could probably even find my car. All I have to do is tell them what’s happened. All I have to do is show them to the slaughter-shed and the body parts still there, along with the bloody chainsaw. I’m sure the smell alone would tip them off by the time we opened the door. They wouldn’t even have to go inside.

That’s all I have to do to make all of this a memory.

My eyes lock onto Jed as he opens the door wider, arm up to gesture them into the cabin. He looks at ease and relaxed. Like he has nothing to worry about and nothing to lose. I have no ideahow he’s doing it, when I know he must be worried about what they could find. Or, worse, what I could tell them.

But he barely glances my way before closing the door behind him and offers the two officers water. They decline, and Jed just shrugs before dropping into an armchair, looking like he’s the definition of relaxed.

It’s such a change from the normally hesitant and cautious looking Jed. In fact, he reminds me more of Wren as he crosses one leg over the other, runs a hand through his hair, and settles back lazily into the chair. It’s such an accurate impression of Wren’s comfort from when he was here that I’m pretty sure that’s where he’d learned it. That would make sense, after all. None of them can have a weak link if all of them are going to stay out of jail. If he used to be unable to face a police officer, they would’ve had to do something about it to help him.

That’s my guess, anyway. But what do I know? Maybe he’s just naturally good at this…though I wouldn’t take bets on it.

The officers look around the room and I take that time to inspect the two of them, though I’m not exactly impressed by what I see. The man, who’s definitely older than the woman, looks like he might be able to chase a criminal twenty steps before doubling over, wheezing. His brown hair is graying at the sides, and his snub nose looks like it had been broken at least once in the past. Beady eyes complete the too-small features of his doughy face, and they dart everywhere in the room with boredom.

It’s the woman that appears to be the hard-ass. Her mouth is too big for her face, and set in a line that gives her resting bitch face. She, unlike her partner, wears a pair of sunglasses that she whips off as I watch, folding them and shoving them into her shirt pocket. She’s shorter than the man, and possibly around my height. Her black hair is chopped short and layered, like the start of the typical Karen Cut that was so popular a few years ago.