As planned.
It all feels like déjà-vu except my mom was stage three and nothing went to plan. Not a fucking thing.
Kincaid just nods at everything he says and for the first time, I sense her nervous energy because it’s impossible to miss. The only thing I know how to do is lean over and place my hand on hers, offering my support. My strength. My belief that she’s going to be all right. She has to be.
“Sir, we’re gonna need you to go ahead and head to the post-op waiting room. Your girlfriend is in good hands.” Kincaid and I both burst into laughter, and seeing her relax, even if for a second, means everything.
Now, all I can do is wait.
***
“Hmm, I was just thinking about how good my cock would look shoved down your throat and here you are…” Of course Grinder is the first person I run into the second I arrive at the compound two days after Kincaid’s surgery. I just wanted to check on her. “I think the universe is trying to tell us something.”
The whole way over here, I kept running the different scenarios in my mind. The one I was hoping for was me somehow sneaking inside without being seen and making it to Kincaid’s room like a ghost hugging the walls. Surgery went well and she’ll have the results in a couple of weeks, but once she returned to the compound, I felt the need to see her and check her incision. Knowing Kincaid, she’ll be too focusedon appearing strong to say anything if there’s an infection or soreness.
I didn’t even make it through the front door. I’m literally on the last step while Grinder stands in the doorway looking like a god sketched from the minds of Roman artists.
“The only thing the universe wants is for me to go upstairs and help Kincaid.” I try to push my way inside. Am I annoyed? Yes. Do I know why? Absolutely not. What I do know is that I haven’t seen him in two weeks and having him this close to me feels electric, like he’s the socket and I’m the grounding prong about to receive a much needed charge. Or maybe he’s the prong, knowing exactly what he’s hiding behind his zipper.
Grinder leans in, his nose at my throat, and inhales a path all the way to my ear. “Are you thinking about my cock, Doc? I can smell your thoughts.”
How does he do that? All it takes are those filthy words for my dick to get harder than the brick walls of this compound.
“That’s inappropriate.” My voice is low and breathy and, to be honest, I’m not even convincing myself.
“Hmmm,” Grinder steps in closer—didn’t even think that was possible—and I can feel him everywhere. From the brush of skin on skin, to the sound of his breaths growing more shallow with every feathered touch. “What’s inappropriate, Spencer, is you ghosting me.” I can even taste him without having my lips on him. I can’t decide if he’s the devil or a magician. Maybe he’s both and this game was rigged from the beginning.
I close my eyes and absorb the hurt that’s seeped into his tone. Looking at him isn’t an option, he’s the sun and I don’t want to go blind.
“I didn’t ghost you. I’ve been busy.” Yeah, busy trying not to come over here.
“Yet Kincaid calls and here you are, not even twenty minutes later.” I’m not even surprised that he knows this place is where secrets come to die.
His fingers pinch my chin and I can feel his hard gaze on me.
I’m stronger than this, goddamn it.
Opening my eyes, I’m met with dark-blue pools almost completely drowned out by his black, dilated pupils. He’s either pissed off or turned on, possibly both. And why do I find that so fucking hot?
“It was urgent, I couldn’t ignore it.” My words are whispered. He’s so close I don’t need to speak any louder.
“Yet you could ignore all twenty-seven text messages and sixteen calls from me?” Holy shit, he counted the number of times he tried to get in touch with me? Instead of sounding desperate, he sounds like a man on a mission and that…is even hotter.
“It didn’t seem urgent.” I sound ridiculous.
“So, me telling you that if you don’t call me back I’m going to throw myself off the Cape Fear bridge isn’t worthy of you rushing over here?” He brings his mouth to mine and licks a path at the seam before taking my bottom lip and biting it hard enough to make me flinch. Then he sucks on it in a soothing gesture. Pleasure after pain.
“The laughing emoji told a whole different story, Grinder.” Fuck, just saying his name is killing my resolve. If he doesn’t give me some breathing room, I’m going to fall to my knees and suck him off right here and now.
Lost in his touch and feel and overall aura, I gasp when his palm cups my cock, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Don’t ever ignore me again, Spencer. Next time, I will hunt you down and wherever it is I find you, I will fuck you in that very spot.” He can’t be serious. I frown as the image of himfucking me at the station makes my dick swell even more. “Feels like you’re down with that idea. I’ll keep it in mind.”
Then he lets go and his hand that was just on my crotch grabs my wrist as he pulls me inside. I was so wrapped up in him that I didn’t even realize the place was packed with brothers and women—I refuse to call them Khunts.
Grinder’s pulling me across the room, and as I follow, despite my best efforts at resisting him, I lock eyes with Kincaid. Her grin and half nod tell me everything I need to know.
With my free hand, I bring my thumb to my neck like I’m some kind of mafia king slicing it open and mouth, “You’re dead to me.” I immediately feel guilty because, fuck, she has cancer and…goddamn it, I’m an asshole.