The Naughty One

by Michelle Love

  He heard her throaty chuckle, then felt her move down the bed and take his cock into her mouth, running her tongue along the hard shaft and up to the sensitive tip. He gave a soft groan as his cock stiffened and quivered under her touch. He stroked her soft hair as she worked on him, then as he came, she gripped his hips tightly, and he came onto her tongue.

  “God, Romy …”

  She climbed up his body and straddled him. Blue opened his eyes and smiled at her. “Good morning, beautiful.”

  “Morning, handsome. Touch me, Allende.”

  He grinned at her order and cupped her full breasts in his hands, feeling the pillowy softness of her skin, the small nipples hardening under his touch. “Have I told you how much I love your breasts?”

  Romy grinned, her dark hair falling over her shoulders, her makeup-free face ethereal in the early morning light. She guided his cock inside her and Blue sucked in a sharp breath. “And your cunt … your glorious, silky, tight little cunt … Jesus, Romy …”

  She moved on top of him, taking him in deeper and deeper, clenching her muscles around his cock until he was bucking and shuddering beneath her. As she cried out with her climax, he flipped her onto his back and began to thrust harder and harder, pinning her hands to the bad, holding her gaze as he fucked her.

  Romy came again and again and Blue, not able to get enough of her, shivered and shot thick, creamy cum deep into her belly. They collapsed against each other, not caring about morning breath, and kissed passionately. “God, I love you,” Blue said, his voice gravelly with emotion.

  “I love you, Blue. Let’s just keep doing this for the rest of our lives.” She was breathless, and Blue admired the way her breasts and bely moved with her breathing. He stroked his hand over the soft curve of her belly.

  “You’ve got a deal,” he grinned and kissed her again. She pressed her breasts against his hard chest.

  “I’ve never felt like this, ever,” she said in a whisper, touching his face tenderly.

  “Probably just the concussion,” Blue chuckled, and she laughed.

  “No way. This is it for me, Blue. This is real. This is what life is meant to be about.”

  “I couldn’t agree more, Romy Sasse.” He wrapped himself around her, looking deep into her eyes. “Marry me. Marry me today, or tomorrow, or however soon we can arrange it.”

  Romy stared back at him and for a long moment, he thought she might say no. If she is sensible, he thought, she will say no. But God, please, please, Romy, say …

  “Yes.”

  For a moment, Blue didn’t comprehend her answer then as it sank it, he whooped loudly, overwhelmed, as Romy giggled. He rolled her around on the bed, cheering and laughing until they were both breathless.

  After they’d calmed down, he stroked the hair away from her face. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “God, thank you, thank you, thank you. Mio Dio, mio Dio.”

  “One condition.”

  “Yes?”

  “We have the ceremony in Italian. It’s only fitting.”

  Blue grinned at her. “I’ll coach you on the language.”

  Romy giggled. “I’ll have people check that you haven’t made me agree to some kind of sexual deviancy.”

  “Damn, you caught me.” Blue propped himself up on his elbow, grinning down at her. “And I thought you’d like that.”

  “Oh, I would,” Romy laughed. “But you don’t have to make me agree to it, it’s implicit.” She reached down and stroked his cock, which twitched into life again. “Let’s do this, Allende. Make me your wife.”

  And two days later, that was exactly what he did.

  Chapter 20

  Octavia Helmond grinned at the message on her phone, and her friend, Mandy, nudged her. “What is it?”

  “My sister just got married on a whim in Italy.”

  “That’s romantic. Wait, what sister?” Mandy, who had known Octavia since the beginning of high school, looked confused. “I thought you were an only child.”

  Octavia grinned and explained her relationship to Romy and the Sasses. “Huh,” Mandy said, when Octavia saw a photo of Romy. “She does look like you. Sure she didn’t donate eggs seventeen years ago?”

  “I think not; she would have been twelve.” Octavia rolled her eyes at her friend.

  “Her mom could have, though. I’m just saying.” They were sitting in the cafeteria of the library, waiting for two of their friends to join them. The new year had brought even more snow and the girls were heading out to do some sledding before retreating to Octavia’s house for hot chocolate and pizza.

  Rebecca, a fiery redhead, yelled over to them as she entered the café, always one to show off, but good natured, and then quiet but sweet Yelena followed her in. The dark-haired girl had been an emigre from Russian five years ago and before meeting the others, had felt left out and lonely. Octavia had brought her into their fold of tomboys and book nerds and now Yelena was thriving.

  They set out in Octavia’s four-by-four to go to her father’s cabin up in the mountains. Dan hadn’t been wild about the idea of four teenage girls alone out there, but Octavia had gently reminded him, they were all adults now.

  “Almost,” he said, with narrowed eyes but Octavia had stared him down. “Dad.”

  Dan sighed. “Fine … but you call me when you get there and text every morning and night.”

  “Deal.”

  They reached the cabin after dark and hurriedly brought their luggage inside. Octavia lit the fire and Yelena made some hot chocolate. They sat around chatting and laughing until late, then Octavia stretched her long limbs. “Gonna turn in, I think. Want to be ready for a full-on day tomorrow.”

  “Hell, yes!” Rebecca raised her mug, cursing as she slopped it all over her. Mandy rolled her eyes and helped her clean it up.

  Octavia was the last to fall asleep. She was sharing the room with Mandy, her friend curled up beside her, fast asleep. Octavia snuggled under the covers and closed her eyes.

  It was almost dawn when she heard it. A soft cry from the other bedroom woke her. She sat up, listening intently. She heard a strange noise, like a thumping into something soft. What the hell? She swung her legs over the side of the bed and crept out into the hall, moving silently along. As she approached the other room, she began to tremble—something didn’t feel right. The door was slightly ajar and to her horror, she saw the hooded figure of a tall man bending over her friends’ bed. He was moving his arm up and down and in the moonlight, Octavia saw the glint of steel. Oh god, no …

  For a second she was frozen, not believing what she was seeing then, with nothing else to do, she gave a banshee scream and run to tackle the assailant. She hit him full force but he threw her off easily, sending her crashing back to the wall, banging her head viciously. As she recovered, she heard Mandy running to help.

  “No, Mandy, run, get help.”

  But it was too late. Mandy came crashing through the door, flicking the light on, and then Octavia saw the horror of what had happened. Rebecca and Yelena, both gasping for oxygen, covered in blood, were clutching at the vicious stab wounds in their bellies.

  “Oct, Mandy, run,” Rebecca croaked before the killer shoved the blade into her throat, and she fell back, choking and dying. Octavia scrambled to her feet pushing Mandy back out into the hall, but then there was another masked man, easily picking Mandy up and driving a knife deep into her abdomen so many times, so quickly that Mandy had no chance. The killer dumped her body on the ground and then both of them came after Octavia.

  She almost reached the cabin door but then one of them tackled her to the ground, the other grabbing her legs and straddling her. He ripped the top of her pajamas open, then to Octavia’s disbelief, he pulled his mask off.

  Gaius. He grinned down at her. “Well, now, I guess I’m quite the surprise.”

  “Please don’t kill me, Gaius, please.”

  He laughed, looking at the other assailant. “Well, it’s always worth as
king, isn’t it?” He slowly pushed the knife into her navel and Octavia gasped at the horrific pain. Gaius buried the knife into her to the hilt.

  “I did some research, little Octavia, some digging around in the files of the surrogacy place. Seems like we’re related. Magda Sasse is your biological mother, which makes you Romy’s sister—which means we’re going to kill you the same way we’re going to kill her. Slowly. Painfully. Without mercy.” He wrenched the knife from her and Octavia could feel her blood pumping from the wound. Gaius smiled.

  “Ah, damn … I think I’ve gone and severed your abdominal artery. You’ll bleed out in a few minutes, so we’d better make the most of this …”

  Octavia screamed as the other killer drew his own knife out of his pocket and both men stabbed her again and again until there was nothing left but darkness.

  Chapter 21

  Romy Sasse-Allende rolled over in bed and smiled at her husband. “Hey, hubby.”

  Blue opened his eyes and grinned. “Hey, wifey.” He leaned over to kiss her and she wriggled into his arms, hooking a leg over his body. She could feel his cock stiffening as she pressed her body against him.

  “Fuck me, husband.”

  With a chuckle, Blue rolled her onto her back, and hitched her legs around his waist. “Damn, you’re so wet.”

  Romy grinned up at him sleepily. “I’ve been dreaming about you.” She moved her body so her breasts and belly undulated and with a growl, Blue plunged his cock deep inside her ready and swollen cunt, pining her hands to the bed, and thrusting with measured but brutal strokes into her. Romy moaned and encouraged him as he fucked her, loving it when he got rough, coming over and over as he shot his load inside of her. He flipped her onto her stomach and eased into her ass, pulling her hair as she screamed his name.

  They tore and clawed at each other, the bed moving with the violence of their lovemaking. Blue fucked her against the wall of the shower, lifting her easily in his strong arms, Romy bracing herself against the cool tile as his cock reamed her cunt until she thought she might not be able to take it anymore.

  As they made breakfast, he bent her over the counter and took her from behind, telling her over and over how much he loved her, then later, as they walked in the olive groves, he had her again, staking his claim of her body as well as her heart, fucking intensely until they were both breathless and sated.

  Evening was falling as they made their way back towards the villa. Blue was picking grass and twigs from her long dark curls, and his eyes were so soft with love, that Romy couldn’t help but stop to kiss him. He ran his hands down her body.

  “How did I ever exist before you, Romy Sasse?”

  Romy grinned up at him. “Romy Sasse Allende. And I don’t know, Blue, because there was nothing before you.”

  He grinned. “I think we just exceeded our cheese quote for the year.”

  Romy laughed. “I don’t care. This is our honeymoon, gorgeous man; cheesy is a requirement. You know what’s also a requirement?”

  “What?”

  “Food. I’m starving.”

  Blue drove them into Florence to a favorite restaurant of his, and they dined on lobster and pasta and garlic bread, moaning over the delicious food. Blue ordered some wine and they lingered over desserts of Zabaglione with fresh berries.

  The coffee was strong and dark, and they sat talking long into the evening. Romy leaned her head on Blue’s shoulder. “I’m so chilled right now. This place is heavenly.”

  “I’m glad you think so. So, what’s the verdict? Should I close on the villa?”

  Romy nodded, smiling. “Blue, we haven’t discussed kids, but I think the villa would be the perfect place to bring them up.”

  He smiled warmly. “I do too, baby.”

  Across the street was a row of stores, each different, none of them brand names, all family owned, some of them still open this late in the evening. There was something so pure and natural about this place, Romy thought. Her eye was caught by the flickering of a television in the bar across the street. For a moment, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

  “Tavia?” No, it couldn’t be. Her young friend’s face flashed up again, and Romy saw now that the news channel was focusing on a snowbound crime scene, police tape fluttering around a small log cabin. Romy stood up to move closer to the television and Blue, hurriedly throwing a wad of Euros down to pay for their meal, followed her.

  They had been cut off from cell phone and Internet access for a few days and both had enjoyed it, but now, Romy stared in horror at the television. “Can you turn that up, please?” she asked anyone who would listen.

  Blue repeated the question in Italian and the bartender grabbed the remote and increased the volume.

  The four young women, all aged seventeen, were found stabbed to death this morning by the owner of this isolated log cabin. It is believed he is also one of the girl’s father, local businessman Daniel Helmond.

  “No!” Romy’s legs gave way as Blue dived to catch her. “No, no, no, not Tavia, please, please, not Tavia.” She was screaming, not caring that the entire street was staring at her.

  The victims have now been officially identified as Rebecca Moore, Octavia Helmond, Mandy Fitkins, and Yelena Shostakovich. All the women were from Kings County, Seattle; all were brutal stabbed to death. Police say the killer or killers left very little physical evidence of themselves and have asked that anyone with any information come forward. Back to the studio.

  Two hours later, when Romy had finally gotten through to a devastated Artemis, she spoke with her sister for a few minutes then came back to the table. She was calm now, too calm, Blue thought as he stood to take her in his arms. The restaurant was officially closed but the owner was a kindly man who told them to take all the time they needed to make calls. He kept them supplied with hot, strong coffee, and pastries although neither Blue or Romy could eat.

  Romy leaned against her new husband’s body. “We have to go back. It’s Dacre. He’ll keep killing innocent women. We have to draw him out.”

  “Romy …”

  “No, Blue. No objections. It’s the only thing left to do.” She looked up into his eyes and he could see the endless sorrow in them. “I won’t go down without a fight. And I’ll play dirty, Blue, believe me.”

  “You’re not in this alone.”

  “I know.” She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut to stop them from tearing up again. She felt raw from screaming. “For tonight, let’s go home.”

  “I’ll book the plane for tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, baby.”

  Dacre and Gaius watched the news with satisfaction, then Gaius grabbed a couple of beers from his fridge. Dacre clinked his bottle against Gaius’ and then sat back, studying the other man.

  “How did it feel? Your first kill?”

  Gaius smiled. “Godlike.”

  Dacre laughed. “I’ll drink to that.” He took a long swig. “Romy will be on her way back to the states now.”

  “So her sister says.”

  Dacre sighed. “It’s time, man. When we were killing those girls, all I could think of was doing the same thing to Romy. Sticking that knife into her gut over and over. I got hard just thinking about it.”

  Gaius nodded. “I agree, it’s time.”

  Dacre was deep in thought. “The best place to do it will be at the hospital. No one suspects me there; hell, she doesn’t even recognize me.”

  “Well, you did do a transformation from preppy asshole to redneck psycho.” Gaius smiled as Dacre laughed. “Yeah, she won’t see you coming.”

  “God,” Dacre grabbed his cock and squeezed it. “The anticipation of that pop, the moment when my knife cuts into her skin.”

  “Dude, don’t jerk off in front of me.” Gaius’ nose was turned up in disgust, but Dacre just laughed.

  “Don’t flatter yourself, asshole.” He took another long drink of beer. “So, what about you? You gonna fuck your brother up? Or are you going to leave him alone to mourn Ro
my?”

  “Both.” Gaius’ eyes glittered with malice. “I’m going to beat him to within an inch of his life, then drag him to watch you kill Romy. How does that sound?”

  Dacre’s smile spread slowly across his face. “Dude … that sounds just about perfect.”

  Chapter 22

  The funeral was well-attended and as painful as they all expected. Octavia’s coffin was lowered into the cold January ground; Dan, her father, had such a look of desolation on his face that Romy could barely look at him. The guilt she felt was overwhelming, and since she and Blue had flown back to Seattle, a week ago, she had been working with the police to try and smoke Dacre out.

  At the hospital, she and Blue had had a conference with Beau and the head of security and decided the measures would stay for now. “I’m not risking your life or anyone else’s, Romy.” Beau said. “I’ve had experience at the vengeful ex thing—my Dinah nearly died.”

  “I know, Beau, and thank you.” Romy looked between the two men. “I’m so sorry for bring this all down on your heads.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Blue repeated for what seemed the hundredth time, but Romy couldn’t help but feel it pressing down on her. Octavia’s horrific murder had affected the whole family —Dan, to his credit, hadn’t blamed her, or Artemis but Romy almost wanted him to yell and scream at her.

  At night, after she and Blue were in bed, after her adored husband was asleep, his arms tight around her, Romy would lie awake, thinking up ways to bait Dacre into revealing himself, and then coming up with increasing violent ways to kill him herself. Her rage was all-consuming. She would sleep for a couple of hours then get up, grab her laptop, and go through all the information she could find on Dacre, his family, the murders. On more than one morning, Blue had found her asleep on the couch, her laptop still open.

  She knew Blue was worried about her and couldn’t blame him for being so. Never, even after the attack of the previous year, had she felt so on edge, like she was on a tightrope and nothing could stop her from falling.