Page 38 of Wicked Deceit
“Checking for hidden rooms,” I mumble, running my finger down the next spine and pulling it out. “Every evil character has their own secret lair where they take the victims. I just figured, maybe it’s here in the most unsuspecting place.” I check the next book again, pulling it out and putting it back. Repeatedly, I check, until I’ve made it to the end of the aisle of books.
Carter leans against his father’s desk with his arms crossed over his chest and snorts in amusement at my antics. He marches toward me with something mischievous shining in his dark, brooding eyes. Curling his fingers around my hips, he pulls me against him, rolling his devious tongue over my pulse point. I swear to God whenever he does that, my panties melt into nothing and completely disintegrate into dust. What I wouldn’t give to have more alone time with him in this office or in his bed. Too bad he’s still forbidden from having sex or his dick might fall off. But Seger’s sweet words pour through my mind, ‘You can still ride my face, Angel.’
“We need to keep moving, Vixen. Before I’m tempted to say fuck my father and fuck my aching dick and fuck you over his desk. Then we’d sure as fuck get caught because I wouldn’t stop myself from coming all over his shit to fuck with him,” he murmurs in my ear as his meaty fingers drop into the waistband of my leggings and swirl around the sensitive skin. My muscles bunch beneath his touch, egging him on to keep going. Yes! Yes! I mean No…No…. We can't do this right now!
Turning around, I let him cage me in between his muscly arms and the bookcase behind me. I cock my head to the side, taking in his features like I love to do. It’ll never get old, tracing the freckles dotting his nose and cheeks, which get duller the more winter sets in and the sun doesn’t heat the earth as much.
“How about this,” he growls, swooping in to take my lips prisoner with such passion, I swear my soul leaves my body and now floats, observing from above. His tongue invades my mouth, sending shivers down my spine. I moan when the warm metal of his tongue ring thrashes with my tongue. Breathlessly he pulls away, forcing his giant hand to cover my face. Ack! What the hell? This was sexy time! Albeit sexy time we didn't necessarily have time for, but still!
“What the hell?” I whine, trying to slap his hand away from squishing my poor nose back into my face. Pain erupts, making my eyes water from the stupid bruising still present and lining my face.
“You’re a fucking temptress, I swear to all things holy,” he groans, adjusting his dick. “You made him wake up,” he curses more, taking a step back away from me like I’m the plague.
Asshole.
I frown, marching toward Cushing’s desk, and plop in his cushy chair. “Yeah, and you’re the asshole who cornered me and stuck his tongue down my throat. Don’t blame me for your baseball bat reawakening at the worst time ready to hit a home run.” I shake my head in fake fury, pointing a haughty finger in his direction. “You’re the dumb dumb who got a dick piercing,” I gently remind him, pursing my lips.
He huffs, but that cocky smile crosses his lips. “You know, we never had that fucking discussion about my baseball bat dick.” My smile falls into the depths of my churning stomach.
No. No. We do not need to talk about it. Not one bit. Shit. I bite my lips when he saunters over, leaning over the other side. He stares me down when his palms lay flat on the desk’s surface, and he smirks when I follow his movements with lusty, hussy eyes. Damn him and his delicious arms and baseball bat.
“Tell me, Vixen. What’s so great about my baseball bat? And why is it referred to as that of all fucking things?”
No. There’s no way in hell I’m telling him it’s because his dick is huge, and I was afraid it wouldn’t fit inside me, resembling a baseball bat standing at attention. Sometimes I’m still frightened it might not fit and tear me in two. But yeah, so not telling him the truth. Deny. Deny. Deny.
I blink a few times and bring my pick lock kit out from my pocket again, and search for drawers with my good hand. Anything to get away from this awkward as hell conversation. I can only imagine the look on his face. If I told him the truth, it’d only boost his already enormous ego, and we can’t afford that.
“How about the office files, huh?” I ask, picking the lock of the top drawer until I feel his heat glaring down from behind me. Shit. Double shit!
His fingers wrap around my ponytail, and he yanks my head back until my eyes stare deep into his brown, honey eyes. The same eyes I could get lost in for days. They darken with a fire blazing in them when he tilts his head and leans over me so his mouth is level with mine.
“Vixen,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against mine. “Tell me now before I bend you over my knee and smack your ass red. You won’t be able to sit down for a week, and I won’t even have to use my fucking baseball bat of a dick to inflict that type of pain.” I shiver at his words, puckering my lips and pressing them into his Spiderman style. I grunt when he tightens his hold on my ponytail, yanking my hairs by the roots. I press harder, hoping this distraction works wonders, but all it does is fuck me over because he won’t leave it alone.
“Can’t we discuss this later when we’re not in danger of getting caught?” I mumble, fiddling with my picklock, which is currently protruding from the lock of the desk drawer.
He smirks, shaking his head when I sigh in defeat because we stay like that for a minute straight, sitting in silence and staring into each other’s eyes. He doesn’t waver or let loose of my ponytail, keeping it tight in his grip. A clock in the distance ticks away, filling the dreadful silence, and the reminder time is not on our side. Shit. I hate silence. It makes an awkward ringing in my ears and sends my nerves into a frenzy. The clock strikes again, and finally I heave a sigh.
“Fine,” I huff, glaring at his smug as fuck face knowing he won. This round, that is. And that’s it. I won’t let him win anything again. “You have a big dick. Is that what you wanted to hear? Or should I talk to the fella myself?” I grumble when he snorts in my face, kissing my cheek in victory.
“He might fucking like it,” he says, stepping back and unwinding his fingers from my hair. “Maybe you should tell him all about how fucking big he is.” The smirk that grows on his face makes me want to slap him.
“Maybe I’ll talk to Big Carter later. For now, I need to search,” I hum when I pull the drawer open and find it empty, much to my disappointment. I pout, slumping my shoulders, and continue my search.
I repeat the same thing with every drawer in his desk, but again, we come up empty-handed like with everything we’ve done. I’m not sure what I expected when he said we should check out the drawers. Evidence that the Apocalypse was up to something? Proof of what they were up to? Hell, maybe an address to their main place of operations would be helpful at this point.
Just like last time when we wasted a whole day going into Crowe’s office, under the guise of me needing alone time in Magnolia’s room. Returning to her room was like a slap in the face. Since coming to East Point, I haven’t lost sight of who I wanted to avenge, but it has shifted slightly. Magnolia isn’t the only person’s death I want the authorities to look into. I want justice for every single person they have wronged and for them to go to prison and rot. They don’t deserve to walk this earth with all the bullshit they’ve pulled.
He snorts again, murmuring about Big Carter and a baseball bat. But he lets me do my thing while he stands guard. Occasionally, he walks around the office, checking between books. Even though I already know there’s no secret room within these walls. It still makes me wonder where the hell they take these people for five days at a time, and no one has a clue. So, hopefully, with our computer invasion, we can find some information without Cushing being any wiser. Like where they do this, why they do this, and how they make money? I have so many questions to ask, and I want all the answers to them.
“All right,” I groan, standing from my spot. I make sure each desk drawer is back in its proper place and locked once again.
“Done?” he asks, raising a brow and walking toward me.
“Mhmm, your father doesn’t have any juicy secrets hidden in here. Such a shame,” I mumble when he grabs my good hand and pulls me away.
“Well, let’s get the fuck out of this house before he comes home. I'll come back later and look in his room for a safe or any-fucking-thing that catches my eye. But for now, let’s go back to my apartment.” A wide grin splits his face when he turns to face me, forcing my body into his. “I like what West fucking said,” he murmurs, licking his way down my jawline.
“Carter,” I groan, trying to shove at his chest. “You’re going to…”
