Page 98 of Never Never

It’s all she needs.

She does what I say, and I feel it, feel her give gloriously around my hand and cock at once, tight walls pulling me deep while delicate little pulses crest along the line of my finger. And I wait, wait as long as I can with her milking and teasing me, until the last chain of my control snaps. I fire into her, white-hot, electric.

Lost.

Slowly, gradually, when I have control of my muscles again, I ease myself out from under her and slide her to lying. I don’t mean to pull her on top of me—I’m not cuddly—but that’s where she seems to come to rest.

And, on second thought, I could stay.

We lie there, breathing, I don’t know how long, until at last she picks up her head from my chest and looks up at me.

“Does Kit really want to…” She trails off.

I raise an eyebrow. “You didn’t see the way he looked at you in that dress?”

“I…” She opens her mouth, then shuts it. Blushing. “…guess not,” she finishes. “Huh.”

Another pause. I clear my throat. “So you do really want to—” It’s strange; I haven’t been awkward talking about sex since maybe age thirteen. I did ask her for clarity, though. And that is what I want.

“With him?” She cuts me off, biting her thumbnail. “I don’t know. I had never really thought about it, but then when you mentioned it…”

Her blush deepens.

“Then maybe you do,” I say.

“Maybe I do.” She nods slowly. Then laughs. “God, that’d make me three for four. Shit. Is that…”

“Is that what?” I pick up, when she doesn’t speak for a few seconds. “Bad?”

“I guess.”

I shift a little under her. She isn’t heavy, not unpleasantly so. The top of her head smells nice, too. Like floral shampoo.

Like a girl.

“If you’re looking for judgment, you’re asking the wrong person,” I say. My fingertips have found her scalp, and she doesn’t pull away. So I decide to leave them there. “Hell, go four for four for all I care.”

“Pan?” She gives a short, incredulous laugh. “No. No thank you. He can⁠—”

“Get lost,” I offer. Because that’s basically what he’s doing these days.

“I was going to say fuck himself,” Tink says. “But…that works too.”

When she falls asleep, I don’t make her leave.

CHAPTER 23

PAN

I know where to find him. Call it an educated guess, maybe, but Hook’s not the kind of guy to be paranoid about his whereabouts. He’s got just enough on lock to think he’s untouchable, and too many fingers in too many pies to stay away from any of them for very long.

Well, to the extent that he has that many fingers, anyway.

I’m down the 303 in fifteen minutes, across the marina in four. It’s still earlyish evening, but the casino’s already lit up, flashing her lights and batting her lashes for a big Thursday night. But that’s not where I’m going.

I weave through traffic, slip past an orange light, and all but fishtail into the dog track parking lot.

I unfasten my helmet, toss it on the bike, shake out my limbs, try not to spontaneously combust with how pissed off I am. Not helping that it’s grim as shit, this place, and I’ve been plenty of depressing places. I’m not a PETA type or a bleeding heart or anything, but I like dogs, and I hate work. So anyone who makes dogs work is two times a motherfucker, if you ask me.