“Why not?”
My heart is thumping as I stare at her sweet face, and she whispers nervously, “What if we’re caught?”
“We won’t be.”
With the exuberance of youth, I grasp her hand and spin her against my chest, my mouth finding hers with no sense of taking things slow. She is sweet and delicious as I devour her lips; desperation and urgency combine, and I push her back against the wall.
My cock is hard and my resolve even harder as I edge my hand up her short dress, pulling aside her panties. Her low whimper spurs me on as I kiss her deeply, her hands fumbling with my sweatpants, dragging them down over my ass.
“Do it.” She gasps as she parts her legs, her slick trail already coating my cock.
I really believe I’m about to explode as I grip the condom in my hand, making short work of sheathing my cock because surely that’s what any considerate guy would do. My mind is fucked because what part of this is considerate, but desperation breeds recklessness, and as I push inside her sweet cunt, she screams into my mouth as I nail her against the wall.
She claws at my hair as I pump mercilessly inside, and my mind is buzzing as I sample my first innocent woman, someone I am attracted to and want more than I can breathe.
“Joe.”
Her soft moan matches my deep groan as I lose myself in the insanity of the moment.
My mind is somewhere else entirely as I give into the sensation, distracting me from life even.
Then I come, in one ferocious rush, my cum streaming from my cock like the breaking of a dam. I push in harder, it rains down on my cock, slick, wet, hot, and sinfully wicked.
I’m shocked when she pushes me away and runs, leaving me confused. “Wait!”
I call out, but the diner door slams behind her as the screeching of tires at the end of the alley distracts me. The sound of a gunshot, the scream ripping through the air that will never leave me. It plays on repeat in my mind as pain replaces ecstasy as I watch my best friend murdered before my horror-filled eyes.
Another shot, he falls to the ground, his blood spurting into the air, and then another shot, his head exploding, blood raining down in front of me.
Voices shouting and people everywhere heading my way coming for me, their guns raised.
I can’t move. I’m paralyzed with fear, and as they raise their firearms, I fall to my knees, pain ripping me more brutally inside than any bullet could ever do.
My hands find the stone of the alley as I kneel on all fours, and then more gunfire, more screams, more brutality.
I close my eyes, hoping a stray bullet ends the image of Zac exploding before my eyes, but all I hear is the sound of my heart breaking.
“Get up.”
A rough voice, accompanied by even rougher hands, drags me to my feet, and I am hauled from the alley past what’s left of my brother as he lies slumped on the cold, hard ground, his life gone, his body still leaking blood. I am punched on the head as I fall into the back of a car and I pass out, either through shock or the punch and as I fall into oblivion, my screams won’t stop.
So much pain, too much, and as I scream so hard, the sound will stay with me for all eternity.
CHAPTER 35
TIFFANY
My mind is working fast because I have so much to digest. Eliza was kind, although slightly weird with her fresh air thing, but enlightening to a degree.
The guards escort me the short distance to Joseph’s home. I still think of it as that, despite the fact that I’m his wife now.
We head inside and my first thought is finding him. I don’t know why it shocks me that I missed him, and yet something in Mrs. Harrington’s expression surprises me. She appears a little uncomfortable, and I ask, “Is everything okay?”
“Of course. Welcome home, Mrs. Ravera.”
“It’s Tiffany, remember.”
I smile and she nods, her head bowed. “Of course. Forgive me.”