by Ace Gray
We’d put on quite a show for Christopher Winthrop.
Neither of us knew he’d seen us all gathered at the Shell station off the Sunrise Highway. Or that he kept driving to a deserted One Madison.
Neither of us knew he held a gun in one hand and a silencer in the other, calmly rolling the barrel on his thigh as we both came. If I’d heard his breathing go ragged like ours or seen his eyes glint with want, my stomach would have turned. Or worse, I would have lost it completely.
Instead, Christopher stayed concealed, cloaked in darkness, out of sight and temporarily out of mind. He saw me rake my fingers down Nick’s back and weave my legs around his. He saw when Nick playfully smacked my ass and bit my nipple in response.
Christopher sat and watched. He sat and watched and continued rolling the silencer on his thigh while he plotted against me and every single thing I held dear.
