Page 101 of Denial
I’ll keep an eye out
Turningoff the screen of my cell plunges the cab of my truck into darkness. The house ahead is dark, except for the glow of the porch light guiding me home. I pick up the plastic bag from the passenger-side floorboard and exit the truck, closing the door with a softclick.
It’s after midnight. I type in the code and let myself in, quickly rearming the alarm at my back. My shoulders sag in relief. The bag falls with a flutter to my feet. I step out of my boots and creep across the kitchen. I already cleaned up at the truck stop, washing away any remnants of blood, but I decide to wash them again.
The skin covering my knuckles is bruised and torn, but not bleeding. Easy enough to explain away as a rough boxing session at the gym.
I crack open the top of a beer from the fridge, leaning my hips against the counter as I take a solid drink. A restless energy flows through me. The bitter malt is smooth on my tongue, washing away the guilt of what I’ve done.
I broke one of the cardinal rules of my job. To protect and serve. I’ve never taken the law into my own hands and delivered justice how I saw fit.
I hear her before I see her. The soft footfalls climbing my steps serve as a warning. My shoulders tense and my chest burns in anticipation. And even though I fight against it, I avert my eyes as if she’ll be able to see the proof of what I did from across the room.
“Sutton?”
27
Alice
“Sutton?”
I call his name into the darkness. His silhouette stands motionless beside the fridge, a statue carved in shadow. The chill of the night hangs between us, pressing against my skin.
I shuffle closer, the tension radiating from him palpable. My heart picks up speed, sensing that something isn’t right.
“What’s wrong?”
“Where’s Nellie?” His voice is gruff, a gritty scrape of sandpaper in the darkness.
“She’s sleeping in bed. Is everything okay?—”
Without warning, Sutton reaches out for my hand. He snags my fingers at my side and pulls me toward him. I stumble against the hard planes of his warm chest. My palms flatten to break my fall, feeling the softness of his cotton tee beneath my hands. My lips part, ready to ask another question, but Sutton presses his palm to the back of my head, his fingers slipping into my hair. He covers my mouth with his own, silencing me.
The air leaves my lungs in a gasp as Sutton kisses me fiercely. He kisses me like it’s a need, and he’s gone far too long without. The room becomes devoid of air, but I don’t care. I forget to breathe, forget that I need to.
I trace my fingers up his neck, lightly scratching my nails against the back of his scalp. Sutton releases a guttural groan in my mouth, the sound reverberating down my throat. I’m pretty sure it doesn’t stop until it settles as a pulse right between my thighs, making me needy and warm with want.
Sutton switches our positions until the countertop presses into my low back. His hand slaps against the surface as he cages me in, kissing me like he can’t get enough.
I tease the seam of his lips with my tongue, desperate to take this further. Sutton parts for me, allowing me to slip my tongue against his. His hands fit against my hips, and in the next moment, he lifts me, setting my ass in front of the coffee pot. I wrap my legs around him, bringing us flush. The hard ridge of his cock presses up against my center.
“Sutton,” I gasp as he moves his lips down the slope of my neck.
He growls beneath my ear, and I rock against him.
“That’s it, Firecracker. Say my name when you grind against my cock.”
“Sutton.” This time, his name is throaty as he dips his tongue into my cleavage, his stubble leaving a trail of warmth across my skin. “What’s happening?”
“I need you.”
Those three words light a fire in my stomach and extinguish the need for more questions. It doesn’t matter what’s happening outside of this room. I want this. Need it, even. If Sutton needs me too, then who am I to ask questions? The world could be on fire, but neither of us would know.
He returns to my mouth, scraping his teeth over my jaw on the way. But before he takes my lips, I turn my head and put them at his ear.
“You can have me,” I pant, flicking his earlobe with my tongue.
His gaze traces me from my hair to my legs spread around his hips in the dark. The backs of his knuckles slip beneath the shirt of my sleep set, teasing the elastic of my shorts. “You’re sure?”
