“What?” Maddey rushes toward me, her curvy body pressing into my back, trying to see around me. I was able to hold her off when she first panicked over Trident, but I knew she wouldn’t heed my warnings once she heard my reaction.
A hand falls to the middle of my back, and I force down the lust that bubbles up from the simple touch. Being around Maddey has always messed with my central nervous system. Having had her, knowing what it feels like to be inside her, seeing her fall apart in my arms—it all just increases our connection by a million.
She doesn’t move to go around me, letting me dictate when the reveal is made.
I shift, not wanting to let her see. This is so much worse than the highlighted passages of her books. That was a perversion of her work; this…this is an invasion of her privacy—our privacy.
“Dex?” Her voice is small, weak, fearful—so unlike the Maddey I know and love. I fucking hate it.
Reaching behind me, I feel for her hand and lace my fingers with hers. I bring her around and keep her tucked close to my side so I feel as well as hear the sharp breath she sucks in when she takes in the pictures taped to the glass.
“Oh my god—is that—is that…is that us?” she asks with a screech.
I fight back a wince by squeezing her to me tighter. I hate this, fucking hate it. It’s not because this is the last way I wanted her brothers to find out I slept with their sister—though, let’s be honest, I wasn’t looking forward to that particular conversation—but because of the pure terror radiating from my girl as she wraps both arms around my middle and buries her face in my chest.
There’s so much to do, so many questions that need answering, but I can take a minute to hold on to the trembling woman in my arms.
Her warm breath hits me in puffs. Rolling my shoulders forward, I curl my body to envelop her deeper into my embrace, leaning down to rest my chin on top of her head, staring down a shot of us kissing in the hot tub last night.
I hate that they are displayed like a play-by-play recap of every intimate moment we shared.
It starts with a shot of Maddey by herself, loose tendrils of hair falling around her face while she leans her head back with her eyes closed. When I first found her just like that, I had to pause to appreciate the simplicity of how serene she was in that moment.
The next is a shot of me leaning against the side of the hot tub and her looking up at me. There was no way to miss how she checked me out—even now I’m internally flexing like a bodybuilder at the memory—but the picture captures the exact look from Maddey I was telling her about. If it wasn’t evidence of the sicko who is obsessed with her, I would pump my fist in the air at having tangible proof of her love for me.
There are a handful of the more innocent shots. Maddey sitting in my lap right after I pulled her onto me, trying valiantly to look mad at me but the tilt to her lips giving her away. Me pushing hair behind her ear. Another of me brushing a thumb across her bottom lip. From the angle of the shots, you can’t see my face, but even in the dim lighting and through a telephonic lens, there’s no missing the flare of heat in Maddey’s icy eyes.
It’s as I continue down the line that the urge to put my fist through the window gets stronger.
My hand wrapped around her hair, her eyes shut as my mouth trails down her exposed throat. The kiss, her arms circling my neck, her fingers clutching at my hair. I can still feel the sting from how she yanked on the short strands.
Her head flopped forward as I suck on her bare breasts. Her rising onto her knees as I fingered her.
Then finally a shot of her bent over the edge of the hot tub with me fucking her from behind, her naked body—which is only meant for my eyes—on display.
“I need to take them down,” I say, but she doesn’t make any move to release me.
Her shelter in the storm.
“Tink.”
“Give me a minute,” she mumbles into my chest.
She can have all the minutes. I don’t care that the longer I look at the pictures, the closer I am to smashing everything to smithereens. If my girl needs to hold on to me longer to feel secure, she can take all the time she needs.
“Okay.” She blows out a breath. “Let’s do this.” She straightens, pushing her shoulders back, ready to take on the world.
There’s my little fighter. Fuck she’s hot when she gets all bring-it-on-I-got-this.
“Ho. Lee. Shit.” Her back hits my front as she takes in the full scope.
She’s silent as she continues to look at each picture in turn. A silent Maddey is never a good thing. Sure there are the times I can tell it’s because she’s lost in a world of her own making, but more often than not, when she’s quiet, she’s plotting.
“I know I’m supposed to freak out—and don’t get me wrong, I am—and I’m struggling to find the words to express how violated I feel, but is it wrong that I think we are totally hot?” She reaches out to touch the one of us in the throes of passion.
Only my girl can find smut inspiration from something like this—except I know her well enough to know she’s deflecting. The slight tremble vibrating in her voice and the way she flinches at the sound of Trident running up on the deck are dead giveaways.
“Let the dog in.” I nudge her toward the door when she doesn’t move. “Feed him his breakfast while I take these down and call Justin.”
She stops with her hand on the handle, turning to look at me over her shoulder. “You do realize he’s going to castrate you for this, right?”
Distraction is the name of the game, and I could play it professionally.
After Trident’s culinary needs were met, I brought Maddey with me to check out what happened to the power, not wanting to risk being away from her. It was an easy fix of flipping the breaker back on, but the concerning part is how her stalker was able to get into the garage where the box is located without detection.
Once the most pressing matters were handled, I forced Maddey to sit at the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee while I made us breakfast.
“Eat.” I slide a plate loaded with bacon and eggs across the counter.
“I’m not hungry.” She attempts to push it away, but I stop her.
“Eat anyway.” The fear and adrenaline from earlier are masking her appetite, but after the workout I put her through last night and again this morning, she needs the calories.
“Why?”
Can’t she do as she’s told this one time?
“You need to eat if you’re going to have enough energy to plan what our next course of action is.”
“Does that mean you’ll finally clue me in on what you kept from me?”
Goddammit. I stab a forkful of eggs with more force than necessary. I knew she wouldn’t let me leaving her behind to see Justin go. She’s already attempted to draw it out of me a few times. Doesn’t make it any easier to have to tell her about it.
“Hold on,” I instruct before running upstairs to grab the copies of the printed excerpts. We left the originals with the police for their file but made sure to have copies on hand for when Maddey forced the information out of me.
I don’t know what kind of arrangement Justin and Paul have with their captain—I’m sure it has a lot to do with strings pulled by Jack—but I really hope it doesn’t take them too much longer to get down here. I have a feeling I’m going to need all the protection I can get.