Page 79 of Beautiful Killer

“Oh.” I reached for it the same time he did. He beat me to it and the rough skin of his fingers brushed mine. Every nerve ending sparked to life at the simple contact. I drew in a quick breath. “Thanks.”

He dropped his hand and shoved one through his hair, making his biceps flex. Another shiver skittered down my spine. Damn.

“Well, night, Zeke.”

He looked down at me and several long seconds ticked by before he finally said, “Night.”

I felt his eyes on me as I walked out the door.

Zeke

Jesus Christ.

I stared after Sunny, then reached down and adjusted my dick. The fucker was an iron bar in my shorts. I was out here, trying to do the right thing, give her space, and then she comes out here looking like that. Cute, sexy-as-hell nightie, hair up and all messy, tempting me beyond reason to reach out and pull it back down, wrap it around my fist, and kiss that pouty goddamn mouth. But what almost sent me over the edge . . . was seeing her in my socks, too big, pulled up on her smooth shapely legs. Something about that twisted me in knots.

I took a step toward the door, then planted my feet and growled.

No. Not this time.If I wanted to try and have something, some kind of relationship with her, I needed to show her that I wanted more from her than just what we gave each other when we were naked, didn’t I? I shoved both hands through my hair. Fuck if I knew what the right thing to do was. My last relationship had been a disaster. I never thought I’d be in this situation again. Definitely not the one I found myself in now. I tore the tape from my hands and left the garage, back into the living area. I needed a shower. I needed to relieve my aching balls before they started going blue or I did something I shouldn’t.

An hour later, I’d made myself a bed on the couch and was staring up at the ceiling—trying not to think about Sunny just up those stairs, in that nightie, her scent all over my sheets, in my socks. I wanted to go up there, but after everything that happened, she needed to be the one to make the first move. If she wanted me, I needed her to tell me.

I cursed and flicked on the TV.

Somehow, I obviously fell asleep, because I woke to sun pouring through the window and into my eyes, and the heavy weight of my cock against my stomach. It was rock solid, not surprising since I’d been dreaming about Sunny and the way she looked when she rode me. I reached down to adjust my dick and groaned at the contact. Shit, I was so hard, the head had popped past the waistband of my boxer briefs. I gave it a squeeze because honestly, I couldn’t help it. Then I shoved my hand down the front because that wasn’t enough. I thought about Sunny’s tits—juvenile, but I didn’t give a fuck—they were bigger. I wanted to feel their weight so damn bad. Were they heavy and hot like I imagined? Then images of her getting round with my kid, the way she’d look sitting on me, taking me, invaded, and Jesus, that was hot. Pregnant would most definitely be sexy on her. I was slowly stroking my dick, thinking I’ll have to get up and take this to the bathroom soon when I heard a soft gasp. My eyes flew open and Sunny was standing at the foot of the stairs, mouth open, cheeks flushed, frozen in place.

I was too far gone to care, I sure as hell wasn’t embarrassed. I was also about to throw all my good intentions out the window and beg her to fuck me . . . when she threw a hand up shielding her eyes.

“Sorry . . . I’m sorry!” Then she spun on her heel and darted back up the stairs.

I cursed, shoved my dick back in my underwear and dragged my ass off the couch. Well, the first night went great. Smooth sailing. I’d only almost tackled her and fucked her on the floor of my garage because she was wearing my goddamn socks, and now she’d caught me with my hand on my dick jerking off like a horny teenager. Jesus, after the mess I’d made of everything, she’d be desperate to get the hell away from me. I was dreaming if I thought she’d marry me.

I stopped in my tracks.

That’s what I wanted, wasn’t it?

To provide for them. To do the right thing. That’s the way I was raised.

How the fuck are you going to be someone’s husband? Someone’s father? You can’t even sleep through the damn night without waking in a cold sweat.

My head was in jumble, my gut in knots. I didn’t know what the right thing was anymore.

I washed up in the bathroom, then started the coffee. Thinking wasn’t getting me anywhere. I had no answers, no clue what came next. Sunny seemed to be taking a long time. Jesus, maybe she was embarrassed? Maybe I should go and say something? I had no idea what, still I dragged my ass up the stairs to the bedroom. The shower was running in the bathroom.

I sighed and was about to leave when she let out sharp cry.

I ran to the door and tried the handle. Locked. “Sunny? Shit, you okay?” Visions of her in a heap on the floor pummeled my mind.

“I saw a spider,” she called.

I froze solid and there was nothing but silence from beyond the door. Did that mean what I thought it did? Going by the intense silence coming through the door, I thought it might.

Fuck.

* * *

“It’s empty,” I called down the short hall.

As I approached, Van turned and cursed.