Decker

by Summers, Eden

  Resentment burns through my veins. I despise her bullshit concern. I fucking loathe it. I can’t even answer her without blowing what little hold I have on fury.

  “Talk to me.” She leans in, her hips pressed against mine.

  Her expression is sickening. The position of her thigh between my legs is a blatant strategy.

  I hate it.

  I hate this.

  And, God, I wish I hated her.

  But my dick hasn’t read the memo. I grow hard, my erection rubbing against her. Despite everything—mainly self-preservation and common fucking sense—my base desires run rampant.

  I want to fuck her.

  Fuck her over.

  I lean close, my mouth a breath away from hers. “I’m not interested in talking.”

  Her eyes widen. Her tongue snakes out to slowly moisten her lips. “You’re hurt…”

  “I’m hungry,” I growl, my tone letting her know my appetite has nothing to do with food.

  “Sebastian…”

  I wait for her to continue. To confess. To fucking open her mouth and tell me what a lying, traitorous snake she is in an attempt to stop this moving any further.

  The words never come.

  She eyes me, those baby blues intense as she slowly leans in, approaching me like I’m a wild animal she shouldn’t want to touch. But she does touch. She brushes her mouth over mine, the connection soft and devastating. Everything inside me wages war. Control struggles with lust. Anger fights with desire. Sense battles with complete and utter lunacy.

  She pulls me under her spell. Slaughtering me. Reclaiming me as her fucking puppet.

  She’s had me hooked since we first met.

  All this time I’ve been her pawn.

  I smash my mouth against hers, parting her lips with my tongue to delve deep. I punish her with my kiss, detesting her with every swipe of connection.

  She’s slow to react. I think she might pull away.

  Then her hands find my chest, and she moans. Mewls. The needy sounds only increase my livid rage.

  She pushes my jacket from my shoulders and rips at the buttons of my shirt. Her touch journeys over my injuries, gentle, caring. The delicate nature is a reminder to keep my head. To stay in control because she’s always on top of her game.

  “I can’t wait to fuck you.” I speak into her mouth.

  Her arms circle my back, those fingers searching until she finds my gun and begins to pull it from my waistband.

  “Don’t.” I snatch the weapon from her grip.

  She stares at me, wide-eyed. “I only wanted to get it out of the way.”

  Like hell.

  Does she really expect me to believe that?

  Fuck.

  Was she going to shoot me?

  “Let me take care of it.” I push the weapon along the counter, out of reach, then walk us to the other side of the kitchen, pressing her into the drawers.

  “I wouldn’t have fired it by accident,” she murmurs. “I know my way around a gun.”

  “I don’t doubt it. But after this morning, it’s best if your fingerprints stay far away.”

  She recoils, her lips parting for a brief moment before she slowly nods. “I will. I promise.”

  I slam my mouth back on hers with punishing force as I wrench at my belt and lower my zipper. She’s all over my dick in seconds, stroking, squeezing, working the length through her angel soft skin.

  We’re all hands and lips and tongues. Lust and deception and lies. It’s a storm of manipulation. A tsunami of wrong.

  Flashbacks of the last few days pummel me. Stabbing me. Punishing unlike any other assault.

  We’d had a connection. An attraction. I believed she was going to be mine.

  “Turn around.” I can’t stand the fucking sight of her. I grab her shoulders, spin her, and bend her to my will. “Let me show my innocent little baby a thing or two.”

  Those lies cut the deepest. All that bullshit about being sexually assaulted. There’s a reason I never found that information when I dug into her life. Everything she told me was fabricated. I’m starting to believe the whole fucking shooting was staged to bring us together so she could work her deceitful magic.

  She’s splayed over the counter in seconds, her dress lifted above her ass, her thong shoved to her ankles.

  I squeeze her thighs, making her squeal before I delve higher, skimming her traitorous pussy with my fingertips. She’s wet, dripping at the thought of undermining me.

  Again.

  I position my cock at her entrance and slam home. The jolt jars my ribs, the pain physical as well as emotional. I stand frozen, battling self-loathing while she grinds against me.

  This isn’t a virtuous woman. I’d gobbled up that bullshit like a seafood buffet.

  Nothing was real.

  Not a damn thing.

  She lied about everything, and the thought of her misleading me about contraception makes my blood turn cold. How do I know she’s not trying to get pregnant in another elaborate scheme to set me up?

  Jesus. The last thing I want is a child spawned from this monster. The thought of my genes matched with those of a family bathed in sins and destruction… Fuck.

  I slam into her. Over and over.

  I loathe her, yet I can’t leave her alone.

  I want to punish her, but I’m only torturing myself.

  My dick quits. It taps out, unable to function through the mud in my head. And here I was thinking this situation couldn’t get any worse.

  I slow my movements, only to have her glance over her shoulder to meet my gaze with lust-filled confusion, then even worse, pity.

  “Sebastian?”

  I step back, my limp cock falling free of her bear trap. My self-respect falling even further.

  “Fuck.” I yank at my pants, zip, belt up, and prepare for battle.

  “Sebastian…”

  I can’t play these games anymore. It’s clear she’s far better at pretending than I am. She’s got no heart. No fucking soul.

  She turns, reaching out to grab my arm. “It’s okay.”

  “Is it?” Her touch seeps under my skin, poisoning my veins. “Do you really think this is okay? From my point of view it couldn’t be worse.”

  “You need to rest. We shouldn’t be doing this while you’re hurt.”

  “My dick isn’t playing Sleeping Beauty because of my injuries,” I snarl. “Disgust is the only reason I can’t keep it hard long enough to finish.”

  She jerks back as if I’ve slapped her. “Disgust? Over what?”

  “You.” I hold her gaze, letting the fear in her eyes strengthen me. “Drop the act, peaches. I know you set me up.”

  16

  Decker

  She stiffens, her body instantly rigid, her face draining of color.

  I allow her time to process. Give her the sweet, delicious seconds for my words to sink in. “Want me to give you a few minutes to strategize your way out of this one?”

  She remains silent for a minute. Then two. Finally, resignation blinks into her eyes, and she begins righting her clothes. Her movements are violent, a frantic storm of yanked underwear and loose hair.

  I lean against the fridge, pretending I’m calm and in control when my pulse is erratic. “How long have you known I’m the informant?”

  She doesn’t answer. She keeps those lips pressed tight as she straightens her dress and flips her hair out from beneath the collar of her cardigan. She’s striving for anger when I can clearly see panic in her features.

  “How long, Keira?”

  She stalks away, and I stop her with a tight grip around her wrist, yanking her back to my side. She glares at me, her eyes filled with fury.

  “How long?” I growl.

  “Two minutes.” She snatches her arm away. “You’re the last person I thought capable of snitching.”

  I chuckle under my breath. “That’s a nice story, but I don’t believe you. You’ve known for a while. You used that sweet pussy of yours
to distract me from the truth.”

  She winces.

  “Don’t worry. If I whored myself out for my family, I’d be embarrassed to admit it, too.”

  Her arm snaps up, flying toward my face.

  I grab her wrist before she can slap me and entwine our fingers with force. “I’ve suffered enough injuries because of you today.”

  “I can’t believe it was you this whole time.” She pulls away, claiming disgust when she had no problem fucking me a few minutes prior. “You’re the one who’s been betraying my family?”

  “Pretending you weren’t setting me up is a waste of time.”

  Her gaze meets mine, vicious and stony. “I didn’t know.”

  I clench my teeth, my patience lost. I walk into her, pushing her backward to cage her against the counter, my face a breath from hers. “Stop lying to me.”

  Her eyes blaze with emotion—fear, anger, heartbreak. The kaleidoscope changes so quickly I’m not sure which one she expects me to believe.

  She leans back, placing an inch of space between us. “Sebastian, I didn’t…” She shakes her head, her face draining of color.

  “How long?” I snap.

  “Get off me.” She pushes at my chest, digging her fingers into ribs I’m sure are fractured.

  I grunt through the pain, stumbling back, and she rushes out from beneath me. I clench my teeth and clutch the counter, trying to figure out the motives behind her continued denial.

  “I’m going to grow tired of this pretty fucking quickly. I already know you lied about your father. There’s no point pretending.”

  She maneuvers around the dining table, using it as a shield. A fucking pathetic one at best.

  “That table won’t save you,” I drawl. “There’s no phone out here. No communication devices. Not another soul for miles. Nobody even knows you’re here. So I suggest you stop fighting the inevitable.”

  “You need to let me go.” She grips the back of one of the wooden chairs. “Cole will track you down if you hurt me. He won’t give up.”

  I laugh. “He’ll have to beat Hunter to it.”

  “He knows?” Her brows skyrocket. “That’s why he took you away to talk this morning.” Slowly, her face slackens. “He never came back. What did you do to him?”

  “Far less than he did to me, that’s for sure.” I point to my face, my ribs, and take solace in the fact she’s doesn’t assume Hunter is my accomplice. Yes, it might be another ploy, but I’ll take whatever solace I can get at this stage.

  “Is he safe?” she demands.

  “He’s safer than you are. Now sit down.”

  A rapid exhale rushes from her lips and her gaze shoots around the room—to the door leading outside, the entrance to the hall, the pictures on the wall, then finally the duffle on the counter. “What are you going to do? Kill me?”

  “Let’s take it one step at a time. First, I want answers. How long have you known?” I repeat. “What did I do that tipped you off?”

  She shakes her head in denial.

  “You’re going to tell me everything, Keira. Either by choice or by force.”

  She becomes more frantic with the assessment of her surroundings. She takes in the chairs around her, the knives in the distant cutting block, the empty fruit bowl in the center of the table. She wants to hurt me, and I’m a sick motherfucker for the buzz of anticipation shooting through my limbs.

  “Before you consider running, please understand that your position will get a lot worse once I catch you. I don’t want to make use of my handy bag of goodies.”

  Her gaze flicks to the gray duffle again. “What’s in there?”

  “Hunter’s tools.” I grin. “Let your imagination run wild with the possibilities.”

  “Stop it,” she snaps. “I know you won’t hurt me.”

  “Either sit down or I’ll come grab you and tie you in place. It’s your choice. And God knows I’m itching for a reason to manhandle you.” I snatch at the duffle, sliding it toward me. I yank open the zipper and pull out the cable ties, electrical tape, rope, and pliers, placing them on display along the counter. “This is the last time I ask—how long have you known?”

  “I’ve told you,” she pleads. “I didn’t know.”

  “Then why tell me the bullshit story about your father?”

  “To prove your loyalty. I thought it would be an easy way to convince Cole you’re on our side. I told you a huge secret—”

  “A huge fucking lie,” I clarify.

  “Yes.” She nods. “I told you a huge lie to convince him we could trust you. I thought you were different.”

  “Oh, believe me, I thought you were different, too, precious. But your story doesn’t make sense. You would never risk a rumor like that getting out.”

  “Exactly. I didn’t have any doubts of your loyalty.”

  “Bullshit.” I snatch the cable ties off the counter and stalk around the table toward her. “Do you want me to tell you what I think happened?”

  She pulls out a chair, slowing my chase.

  “You and Cole organized the shooting, making sure I was by your side when the bullets strategically hit the ceiling to ensure nobody got hurt. Your brother then demanded I protect you, and you led us out of town to a place where you could attempt to seduce answers out of me. Am I close?”

  She keeps retreating, her position always opposite to mine.

  “The breakdown in the shower was bullshit,” I accuse. “Sleeping on the sofa with me was a strategy to win me over. You fucked me in an attempt to get under my skin. And that sob story about being raped was a load of fucking crap.”

  “No.” She shakes her head, reiterating her lies.

  “You and Cole planned the entire thing to confirm your suspicions, and voila, here they are.” I lunge, climbing onto a chair, then the table to dash along the wood.

  She screams, the sound reverberating off the walls as she sprints for the hall.

  I jump to the ground, catching her from behind in two steps. I cage her arms to her sides, her ass bucking against me as I place my mouth near her ear. “Chasing you feels as good as I thought it would.”

  She struggles, killing my chest with the wild-beast routine while I drag her to the closest chair and force her to take a seat. I straddle her, pinning her in place as I loop one tie around her wrist and the wooden slat of the backrest, making the plastic strip cling tight. Then I do the same with her other arm, keeping her strapped to the chair.

  “You son of a bitch.” She kicks, bucks, and yanks at her arms.

  I move off her, glancing down to admire my handiwork. “There. That’s better.” I tower above her to watch the show. “Throw a tantrum, by all means, but you ain’t going anywhere until I have what I want.”

  She shouts in frustration, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. “Fuck you.”

  I quirk a brow. “Been there, done that. I don’t plan on being a repeat offender.”

  “I swear to God, Decker, Cole will make sure your body is never found.”

  I shrug. “I know. That’s the beauty of this—I have nothing left to lose. My fate is already set. But I can make sure I take a few souls with me on my trip to hell.”

  Her rampant breathing increases.

  “You’re not the naive innocent you pretend to be.” I slide onto the table in front of her and place my feet on her seat, either side of her thighs. The slightest cage to add to her restriction.

  She holds my stare. “I’ve told you, and I’ll keep telling you—I had no idea you were a lying piece of shit. The story about my father was a test. I thought you’d keep your mouth shut.”

  I lean forward, my elbows on my knees as I bring our faces close. I watch her for long moments, staring into those eyes, reading her expression. “Such a pretty little liar,” I murmur. “I always knew you were the best weapon in your brother’s arsenal.”

  “If you’re right, then why isn’t he here?” She cocks a brow in defiance. “If this was all an elaborate schem
e to set you up, why am I strapped to a chair while you hold me hostage?”

  She fractures my thought process. But only momentarily. “Because you didn’t tell him about the lie. You deviated from the plan. Then your phone ran out of battery, and now you’re stuck trying to clean up the mess.”

  “Even so, if I organized something with my brother, he would’ve had men watching us the entire time. You never would’ve been able to drag me out here. They would’ve been all over you. You know that.”

  I sit up straight, trying to sort the truth from the deception. What aren’t I seeing? What have I missed?

  “There was no plan, Sebastian. I didn’t know you were the informant. I didn’t even suspect you.”

  I run a hand over my mouth, thinking, thinking, thinking. She’s manipulating me again. She’s working a new strategy, and I’ve got no fucking clue what it is. But I have no intention of succumbing.

  “Let’s switch topics for a moment.” I cock my head to the side, studying her. “Tell me, do you know what your uncle was doing the night he got splattered over the front of that SUV?”

  Her eyes flare with awareness. With knowledge.

  “You do know,” I taunt. “I can see it on your face.”

  “He was at a whorehouse. So what?”

  “Is that what you call it? A whorehouse?” I laugh, the sound bitter. Her ability to fuck me while deceiving me makes far more sense now. “You know, I watched you for a long time. I seriously thought I knew it all, and I’m ashamed to admit I was wrong.”

  I gently grab her chin, flaunting my control. “I know better now. You’re just like your uncle, aren’t you? You’ve got the same filthy perversions as the generation before you. You’ve been in on it the whole time.”

  Her skin turns ashen beneath my touch.

  I’m getting closer to the truth. I can see it. Feel it.

  “Answer me.” My tone is a menacing threat.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My uncle was at a brothel the night he got run down. If you’ve heard a different story, it’s news to me.”

  I stroke my fingers along her jaw, over her bottom lip. The more I stare, the more I notice.