Page 32 of Raine
I wet my lips, my tongue hanging over my bottom one, before I reach up on tippy toes and lick from his jawline up to his cheekbone where the saliva had landed.
“I’m not hard for the reasons you’re thinking, so don’t let that pretty little head run away from you,” he murmurs, releasing his hold on my neck.
Humiliation churns in my gut, my cheeks heating as he steps back, repositions his dick, and turns around, leaving me with my mouth open and chest heaving.
“Get in the car, Raine, before we’re late.”
I stand there for a few moments, thoughts running rampant in my mind while I question my sanity. Did I really lick Acheron Hexino’s fucking face? That’s it, I’m done. Someone really needs to have me committed because that shit didn’t just happen, and I sure as shit wasn’t turned on by it.
Who am I kidding…? Only myself.
“NOW!” he thunders, and I straighten, walking back to the car with my resting bitch face in place and head held high. I open the door and sit down.
I don’t say anything to him; instead, I look out the window and completely ignore him, watching the street as he pulls back onto the road and we head to our destination.
Acheron also doesn’t say a fucking word the rest of the way, but I did catch him a couple of times adjusting himself, and although I don’t want to admit it, it made it easier to swallow the jagged little pill I was fed earlier.
After thirty minutes of awkward silence, we are pulling up at Justyce’s safe house. The bright yellow two-story home is surrounded by flowers and greenery of all shades and is nothing like Justyce and his black soul, but I guess that’s what he was aiming for.
Acheron hits a button on his phone, and the gate that surrounds the home opens up. At a snail’s pace, it slowly folds open, and we creep through and pull up to the front of the house. After Kenzi’s escape and abduction, Justyce upped the security, basically turning our massive street along the beach into a gated community, going as far as placing gates around our houses as well as the one to enter the fucking street. It looks like he’d spared no room for fuck-ups here, either.
Without a word, Acheron exits the car and storms up the steps that lead to the front door, looking out of place without his suit jacket.
I sit there dumbfounded and a little scorned from our earlier moment, and it takes him letting himself inside to snap me from my ruminations.
Releasing a huff, I exit the car, walk up the stairs, and get ready to let myself in like Acheron did, probably looking as out of place as him.
The old screen door squeals as I open it, causing me to wince. That damn bottle of vodka from last night still has my head in its grip.
Dark, laminated timber planks line the floor, and I’m reminded of the old, lime green tiles that are still underneath. Who the fuck kits their house out in green fucking tiles? Like, what the actual fuck?
I drag my ballet-clad feet across the ground, noticing the bright décor and Justyce’s art lining the walls. This art, however, is much subtler than the pieces donning his walls at home.
Muted colors splash across the canvases in an array of shades, painting pretty pictures that I can’t decipher. I cock my head to the side, examining them, and I’m reminded of an article I read a few months ago. Apparently, art is really good for the mind and releases dopamine or some shit. Although I didn’t understand the jargon completely, it was an interesting article.
Turning my sight from the paintings, I run my hand along the farm-style, white, slatted timber fixed to half the wall; the other half is painted a deep emerald green, which surprisingly fits well with the random paintings Justyce has scattered around.
Pausing, I listen for any noises in the house, and when I hear Acheron’s voice, I follow the sound and find myself in an open-plan kitchen.
Again, the kitchen has an offset of green. I guess the owners before Justyce had a thing for the color. The dark floor is complimented by pale sea-foam green, slatted timber cupboards, and the Amazon green quartzite granite benchtops that Justyce fitted top the space.
Stainless steel appliances fill the area, and they fit the space perfectly, along with the massive window over the sink that looks out to the pool and grassed area. I’m pulled from my perusal when a throat clears behind me, and I don’t need to look to know whose throat it was.
Rolling my eyes, I turn to face Acheron and Angelite. Closing the distance between us, I offer her a small smile. She’s so fucking pretty that I can’t help feeling a little envious of her and her accomplishments.
Acheron chuckles to my right as if he’s read my thoughts. Ignoring him, I focus my attention on Angelite and her bright, pink-tipped, natural blonde hair.
Her baby blues are hidden behind thick, leopard-print glasses; her white doctor coat over the top of a black, knee-length dress finishes off her ensemble; and she somehow manages to pull the look off.
“Raine,” she says, holding her hand out.
I look at it awkwardly because I’ve not had much to do with her, and she’s always kind of unnerved me.
Shaking her hand, I steel my back and decide to cut straight to the chase. “Justyce asked us to check in. I was wondering if I could see the girls?”
“Sure,” she answers, nodding her head. “Follow me.”
We walk through the house in silence, but I know Acheron is behind me because I can feel his aggressive energy.
