Bitter Sweet Hell (Hell Night Book 2)

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Bitter Sweet Hell (Hell Night Book 2) Page 21

by Alex Grayson


  I take a big gulp of milk, and damn if it doesn’t make the crinkles taste even better. “What else you got?”

  She pushes another plate toward me, and I snatch up what looks like a hunk of chocolate. “It’s chocolate peanut butter fudge. Another of my mom’s recipes.”

  I take a bite and fall even further into sugary heaven. I’m normally not a sweet eater, but this stuff is too damn good to resist.

  “Damn you, woman.” I look at the chunk of half-eaten fudge in my hand. “I’m going to end up with diabetes because of you.”

  She giggles again, looking pretty pleased with herself.

  “What’s up with all the sweets?” I ask, nodding my head toward the rest of the dishes on the counter filled with all kinds of sweet shit.

  Her smile loses its luster and she shrugs. “I bake when I get nervous or upset. It keeps my mind occupied.”

  I drop the rest of the fudge on the plate, lick my fingers clean, and snag her chair with my foot. When she’s close enough, I grab her up from the chair by her waist and plant her ass across my lap. One arm goes around my neck and she presses her other hand on my chest.

  “Look at me,” I say firmly. Once I have her eyes, I tuck some loose hair behind her ear. “Don’t let that asshole do this to you, Eden. He’s not worth one second of your worry. We’ll catch him and he’ll be dealt with accordingly.”

  “What does that mean exactly? He’ll be dealt with? What are you going to do?”

  I hold her stare and fight with myself on what to tell her. In the end, I leave it up to her.

  “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, Gypsy. You might find they aren’t something you can handle.”

  Her eyes slide away from mine and she chews on her bottom lip, her brows dropping into a frown. After a moment, she straightens her spine and looks back at me, conviction written on her face. “I want to know,” she says determinedly.

  Her bravery would make me smile if the situation wasn’t so dire. The answer to her question isn’t simple, and it’s not one I should give. It’s dangerous and has the potential to be hazardous to my brothers and myself. It’s an answer that could be our downfall, but for some inexplicable reason I trust her with it.

  I tighten my arms around her waist and give her the truth. “He’ll die. By mine and my brother’s hands.”

  It’s not shock I see on her face. It’s not disbelief or contempt or even fear. No, her eyes light up with interest, like the idea isn’t one she’s against, but one she actually agrees with. For some reason, I expected this response from her. Eden doesn’t have a vindictive bone in her body, but with this, I knew she would be on board.

  “How will you do it?”

  I clench my jaw and blow out a harsh breath between my teeth. “That’s something you don’t need to know.” She opens her mouth to ask again, but I cut her off. “No, Gypsy.”

  Her lips clamps shut and her shoulders fall an inch. “Okay,” she says quietly. “But can you answer one question?” I keep quiet. “Will it be painful?”

  “Extremely,” I answer gravely.

  She nods, her expression fierce. “Good.”

  “It doesn’t bother you that I plan to kill Diego?” I ask, looking at her curiously.

  A wrinkle appears between her eyes, giving away her uncertainty. Her gaze moves to her hand resting on my shoulder.

  “I know it should.” She looks back to me. “But with Diego…. What he’s done, the pain he’s caused; to me, to the people who live here, and Lord only knows who else, the damage I have no doubt he’ll continue to inflict…. He needs to be stopped. He needs to atone for what he’s done. And he and his father have got too many people in their pockets. He’ll never see the inside of a cell.”

  She’s right. The chances of Diego spending time behind bars is slim to none. But it wouldn’t matter. The man doesn’t need to sit in a cell and reap what he’s sewn. He’ll never regret his actions, only that he was caught. He’ll never rehabilitate. He’ll serve his sentence, be released, and do the same shit over and over again.

  Fuck. That.

  Diego will pay for what he’s done in a way that’s fitting. In a way he will regret his crimes. He’ll be given just as much mercy as he gave his victims. Not one fucking ounce.

  My phone chimes an incoming text and Eden startles in my lap from the sudden sound. I snatch it off the table and pull up the message from Judge.

  Judge: It’s been confirmed. We have an address.

  I damn near crush the phone in my grip when I read his text. As it is, it creaks in my palm. He doesn’t need to elaborate. I know exactly what he’s talking about; my bastard brother and bitch mother. He has the address where they are. After years of searching for them, they’re right there at my fingertips. Right fucking there.

  Eden shifts in my lap. “What’s he talking about?” she asks, and I lift my eyes from the phone.

  And I can’t do a Goddamn thing about it. Not right now anyway. Not until I know Eden is safe. I glance down at my phone and grit my teeth as I type out my reply, because this shit is hard. I want to jump up right now and hunt the bastards down, but Eden is too important. I can’t leave her.

  Me: Don’t give it to me yet. I’ll let you know.

  I toss my phone on the table and circle my arms around Eden’s waist again.

  “JW?”

  My hand shakes when I pick up the end of her braid and twirl it around my finger. My body radiates with the knowledge that my past is almost resolved. That I’m so close to closing the door on that part of my life.

  “It’s my mother and brother,” I tell Eden. I twirl her hair tighter around my finger. I watch as the tip turns red as it fills with blood. “Back when Malus was Sweet Haven, my brother was the one who took me most of the time during Hell Night.” She sucks in a sharp breath and my eyes move to her. “I don’t know what I did to make him hate me, but he was always mean and unforgiving during those times. He was older than me by thirteen years, so my parents had no control over him by then, but they always let him have me. I was his fuck toy, and they just watched. Didn’t matter what he did or how rough he was, he had full rein over me. It was different every other day. He wasn’t particularly nice, but he wasn’t cruel either. On the occasions when he did show his darker side, my parents acted like real parents and protected me from him.”

  Her fingers dig into the muscle in my shoulder. The bite of pain distracts me from some of the anger building inside me.

  “What about your father? You said it was your mother and brother.”

  “He died during the raid. The stupid bastard pulled a gun on one of the agents while my brother and mother were escaping out the back door. They shot him. Or that’s what the reports say.” I tip my chin over her shoulder. “He died right over there.”

  Her eyes widen as she turns and looks into the living room. “This is your childhood home?”

  “Yes. When my brothers and I came back we took back our childhood homes, but we had them gutted and remodeled. None of them resemble what they were.”

  My phone chimes again, but I don’t pick it up this time.

  “They got away that night. I’ve been searching for them for twelve years.”

  Her voice is quiet when she guesses correctly, “And Judge just found out where they are?”

  I give her a clipped nod and loosen her hair from around my finger.

  She tilts her head to the side, assessing me with fierce green eyes. “You plan to kill them, don’t you?”

  There’s no point in denying it. She already knows I plan to kill Diego. What’s adding two more to my list of crimes?

  “Yes.”

  Her lips purse and she gives me a short nod.

  “You know,” I start and rub the end of her braid down her arm. She shivers in response. “You’re kind of ruthless. I wouldn’t have expected that from someone like you.”

  She arches a brow. “Someone like me?”

  “You’re tough, Gypsy. I have no d
oubt about that, given what you’ve been through with Diego. But you have this sweetness about you that portrays innocence. Almost like a purity that shouldn’t be tarnished with the harsh realities of life.”

  She shifts in my lap so she’s facing me better.

  “I may appear that way, but I’m far from innocent. I grew up in San Antonio and not on the best side of town. My parents didn’t have a lot, so they didn’t have a lot to give me. I had what I needed, and I had their love, which was enough for me. No matter how much they tried to shield me, I still saw the cruelties in life. I just refused to let it be a part of mine. Life can be ugly and it can be downright nasty at times. It’s left to the good people to fix those parts that the assholes of the world have destroyed. Murder is wrong, no matter why it’s doled out or who it’s against, but I recognize in dire circumstances, it may be a necessary evil.”

  She squeaks when I pick her up, put her to her feet, and spin her to face me, her hands landing on my shoulders. Starting with the material at her knees, I grip it and start pulling it up. Once the end of her skirt reaches the bottom of her thighs, I pull her forward until she’s straddling my lap.

  “You’re pretty fuckin’ spectacular,” I admit. When her ass meets my thighs, I push her skirt further up her legs until her pussy is just barely hidden from my hungry eyes. The soft blue material of her skirt pools down around our legs.

  She tilts one side of her mouth up and her eyes sparkle in delight. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  That makes me grunt. “Not so sure you’d be sayin’ that if you knew the things I’ve done.”

  She rakes her fingers through the hair on the top of my head and leans closer. “We’ll have to agree to disagree, because something tells me what you may think of yourself would be completely different from what I think of you.”

  Fuck, but this woman does me in. I tell her I’m going to kill a man, then tell her I’m going to kill my mother and brother, and on top of that, all but admit to committing whatever other crimes her mind could conjure up, and she thinks I’m good. What kind of person does that? Only someone with a pure soul and wholesome heart.

  I pull her down to me by the back of her neck. Taking her lips, I kiss her like a starved man. Because that’s what I am. I’m starving for the taste of her. Hungry for the touch of her. Ravenous to possess her and devour her and make her mine until she wants nothing else except me.

  She tastes like chocolate and paradise and Eden. An aphrodisiac combination that I wish I could bottle up and carry around in my pocket so I could have it anytime I wanted. This woman drives me crazy but makes me more sane than I’ve ever been.

  Her hand is still in my hair and she digs her fingers against my scalp when I bite down on her lip. I growl and yank her toward me by her hips. Her warm center, covered only in a pair of silky panties, meets my stiff cock. I flex my hips upward at the same time I grind her down against me.

  She rips her lips away from mine and throws her head back on a low moan. My eyes zero in on the slender column of her throat, and that’s where my lips go next. I suck, nibble, and lick up her neck, leaving behind little red marks from the bristly hair on my cheeks and chin. I fucking love knowing she’ll be marked up by me.

  I lean her backward until her spine meets the edge of the table. Her eyes open slowly, the beautiful greens much darker than normal. Her shirt is flimsy, so it doesn’t take much to yank it down until her breasts pop out. I thank my lucky stars, because she’s not wearing a bra.

  Her breasts are exquisite. Perfect in size—not too big, just the right plumpness to fit into my hand— and creamy-white with little blue and purple veins just under the surface of her skin.

  I cup them both, undecided which one to love on first. I choose the right and pinch the tip on the left so it doesn’t feel neglected. I’m all for equality and shit. I’m sure it’s my imagination, but I swear to Christ, she tastes sweet. Like a peach, which makes sense because the little buds are a peachy color.

  I pop her nipple free from my mouth and lave the second one. Both are hard little points by the time I get done with them. Leaning back, I grab the rope of her long thick hair and feather the end over the stiff nubs. When she sucks in a breath, I lift my eyes to her and wink.

  “Told you there were benefits to not cutting your hair.”

  Her giggle turns into a moan when I lazily trail her hair between the valley of her breasts. I eye her shirt for a moment, deciding if I like it too much to rip the thing from her body, and determine that I want her naked more than I want to see her wearing the slinky material again. Her head jerks up at the sound of her shirt ripping and her mouth falls open in shock.

  “Hey!”

  Her attempt at yelling the word falls flat when I tweak her nipple.

  “It was in the way,” I grunt. “I’ll buy you another one. Hell, I’ll buy you one in every color if you want.”

  My dick throbs painfully in my jeans, so I open them to give myself some room.

  “I hope you don’t like your panties too much.”

  Before she can form a reply, my hand’s under her skirt, and I’m ripping them off her too. Her body is bent backward and my dick’s too hard to force it down to touch her, so using my thumb, I wipe the moisture from the tip and smear it over her clit. She twitches. Not her body, but her clit, and fuck if that doesn’t make my cock jerk in return.

  “Mmm… more please,” she whimpers, moving her hips up to meet my finger.

  I flip up her skirt so I can see her pussy, and I’m not surprised to see her thighs glistening with her desire. Using my other hand, I place two fingers at her entrance and swirl them inside her opening. I wait until she’s panting before slowly sliding them inside. My thumb continues to work her clit as I steadily pump two fingers in and out of her. When her walls begin to swell, I pull my fingers free.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” she whines. “Why did you stop?”

  Instead of answering, I hoist her up from my lap and get up from the chair. I lay a hard kiss on her lips that has her moaning against my mouth before spinning her in place.

  “Grab the table, Gypsy. I’ve always wanted to fuck you wearing one of your skirts.”

  She peeks at me over her shoulder but bends forward and grabs the table. I almost come right fucking there at seeing her like this. Her skirt has fallen back down, but I know she’s bare underneath. Her tits sway as she stands there ready and willing, waiting on me.

  I hike the skirt up over her hips. Her breaths come in labored pants and her hair is draped down her back. It’s so long that the end lays between the globes of her ass, no doubt getting wet from her arousal.

  Grabbing the end, I wrap it a couple of times around my fist. Have I said I loved her hair yet? It’s one of my favorite parts of her.

  Her asscheeks are pale and round and what they hide is something I can’t ignore. With her hair still in my fist, I separate the two mounds of flesh and reveal her tempting asshole. Starting at her clit, I gather some moisture and rub all the way up to the puckered hole.

  She stiffens but doesn’t try to pull away.

  “You gonna let me fuck you here one day, baby?” I ask huskily.

  She wiggles her ass when I apply a little pressure, and I swear she’s pushing back against my finger.

  “I’ve never done it before.”

  “I’ll make it feel damn good for you,” I promise.

  Her breath hitches when I add a bit more pressure. I don’t push past the sensitive bundle of nerves. I want to take my time with her when it comes to anal play, and I’m too impatient to get my dick inside her pussy to pay it the attention she deserves.

  I quickly pull my pants off, kicking them to the side to land beside her torn shirt and panties. Gripping the base of my cock, I slap her drenched pussy with it a few times. She whimpers and shoves her hips back.

  “Please, JW.”

  “What do you want, Eden?” I swirl the head over her engorged clit. “Say the words, and I’ll give it
to you.”

  “Fuck me. Fuck me hard,” she answers without hesitation.

  I put us both out of our misery by notching the head at her opening and slamming home.

  Home.

  She feels like fucking home. Not just her body and what she does to mine, but in every way possible.

  I use her hair as a means to pull her back into me with each forward thrust. I’ve only been inside this woman for a few seconds, but I’m already precariously close to the edge. She does this to me every single time.

  Our bodies slap together and our grunts and moans of pleasure intermingle, creating a sound so beautifully hot it has my control close to snapping. Bending down, I rain kisses along her spine, slowing my thrusts. I’m not ready for this to be over. She tries to get me to move faster, but I keep my steady rhythm.

  She’s bent over the table, her face forward, and I have the sudden need to see her face. She’s stunning when she comes. It’s not only her body that reacts but her whole face lights with pure ecstasy.

  “I’m close,” she moans. Her walls clamp down on me, strangling my cock in the most delicious way.

  I’m past the point of holding back. Standing back up to my full height, I release her hair, grab her waist and pound into her like it’s the last time I’ll have her. I feel crazed with my need for her. Downright insane with my lust.

  “Damn it to hell,” I groan and pick up speed. My balls draw up and a spark of electricity travels down my spine when I feel her pussy convulse. She falls over the edge, and I’ve got no choice but to go with her.

  “Son-of-a-bitch,” I pant. “No condom, baby. I didn’t wear a condom.”

  She’s breathing heavily as she leans more of her weight against the table. “I’m clean and on birth control.”

  I nod, then say verbally. “I’m clean too.”

  Once I can breathe properly again, I pull out of her delicious pussy and turn her to face me. Her arms drape languidly around my shoulders as I sit us both down in the same chair I was in before. She looks at me with droopy eyes and a contented smile.

  “You wear me out, lady.”

  I drape her skirt back down her legs and tuck her close to me. Her breath tickles my neck when she draws in a deep inhale and releases it.

 

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