“Who’s the big man now?” I ask him through his screams.

“I told you everything I know!” he hollers out in anguish.

“Now, why do I have a feeling you aren’t being truthful. Do you know what I do to liars, senator?” The lemons that Silas and I crushed the juice from, are giving off a citrus smell. It overrides the copper scent of the blood that has flowed from the senator’s wounds. He’s made a mess, literally, and figuratively, and I’ve already hosed the floor down once.

Even though we laid plastic on the floor, the dumbass pissed, and shit himself, and the smell alone was enough to make me want to gag. Plastic is easily cleanable, which is a good thing for those we bring down for questioning. It isn’t always a pretty sight, and not something I’d wish for anyone to witness, but it’s a necessity to get what we need.

Good thing we soundproofed the room, and put a drain in the center. Makes the clean up easier.

“I swear, I don’t know anything else!” he wails. Fucking music to my ears. It’s poetic justice if you ask me.

“Time to change the tune,” I reply. I grab the spray bottle that I put the vinegar in and start spraying him down. The hiss he makes when the vinegar hits his torn flesh soon turns to sobs. Can’t I get a man down here who doesn’t cry at the drop of a penny?

Pussies, all of them.

“Well, I don’t think he’s got much else in him,” Silas states. I glance at him, eyebrow raised, to see him smirking. “Maybe if we let him stew for a bit, he’ll remember something.”

“Sounds like a plan, I need to come up with more things to get him to rat on his compadres.” I smirk when I see him do a full body shiver. I walk over to the wall and turn the lights off. Let’s see if a night in darkness will inspire him to let go of all of his demons. Silas and I walk out of the room and lock the door behind us. Not that I’m worried he’ll be able to escape the ropes we’ve tied him up with, but when you take chances, they sometimes come back and bite you in the ass. And I for one, don’t need a chunk missing from mine.

“Go get cleaned up,” Silas orders. “Your woman made dinner, I’m gonna go make me a plate. It smelled awfully good when I came up earlier.”

“She’s not my woman,” I call to his retreating back.

“We’ll see,” he says over his shoulder, never slowing down.

I slowly make my way upstairs, I’m getting too old for this shit. I walk into my room and see Piper curled up in a ball in the middle of my bed. I walk over and look down at her, the sadness is displayed on her features, even in sleep. “I’m trying, Hellcat,” I whisper, before making my way to the bathroom and tearing off my clothes. I heat up the water in the shower, pull a trash bag from under my sink, and place my clothes inside for a later disposal. Damn, I really liked those jeans too.

Stepping in the shower, I allow the blood to rinse off before I begin scrubbing the day’s activities from my overly exhausted body. Lost in thought, the small hand that reaches around, and grabs the soap catches me by surprise. I am usually more in tune with my surroundings. I can’t believe this little slip of a woman was able to take me off guard the way she just did.

“What’re you doing, Hellcat?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper. It sounds husky, and overused, even to my own ears.

“Helping you, Atticus. I know I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s obviously got something to do with my sister. Let me help. No promises. No expectations, okay?”

I hear her words and my body starts to react. What worries me is women always say no expectations, but they allow their emotions to take over. Then bam, next thing you know, you’re in a committed relationship. Not that I’ve had any of those, but my brothers have and I’ve seen what happens when they try to scrape the women off. Yeah, not fucking happening.

“Piper, this is a bad idea,” I implore.

“Sounds like the best idea I’ve ever come up with,” she states, while working my shaft up and down. My hips can’t help but follow her hand. She had a hold of my dick before I finished my last word.

Fuck, her hand feels good.

Too good.

I can feel the tingles in my spine and know that I’m about to come faster than a teenager. It’s been awhile since I’ve had someone else take care of my needs. I haven’t had the opportunity lately to find a release unless it’s that of my own hand.

“Feels good,” I stutter out. She’s picked up the pace and I’m feeling like I need to flip around and turn her to face the shower, and have my way with her, and her body. I can’t go there, not yet anyways. I need to make sure my head isn’t messed up before I sink myself inside of her.

“Just feel, Atticus. Let all of the stress go.” And I do, all over the shower wall. I grunt, and groan, as my release finishes, and I’m suddenly ravenous. And my stomach growls to indicate that.

“Did you eat?” she questions me.

“No. Needed to get the blood off first,” I reply. “There’s eating dirty, then eating dirty, if you get my meaning?”

“Finish washing off and I’ll go heat you a plate,” she says, going to get out of the shower. I grab her and pull her close, surprising us both, because I’m not a touchy-feely kind of man.

Dropping a kiss on her forehead, I say, “Thanks.” What else can I say? Thanks for handling my dick? Thanks for not expecting anything? Thanks for one of the most explosive orgasms I’ve experienced in a while? Yeah, none of those sound like something she’d appreciate hearing me say. I feel her loss almost tangibly when she pulls away.

“Anytime,” she says, exiting the shower. I watch as she dries off, my cock hardening again when I see her luscious ass and it goes to full-mast when I catch a glimpse in the mirror of her pink-tipped nipples.

This is gonna be harder than I thought.

Fuck me.

That woman is sex on wheels, and I love my wheels to be sexy and fast. And like warp speed, I know that I’m doomed. She has me in a way no other female has ever done. I bang my head on the tile in front of me. What the hell am I supposed to do now? She’ll be around for a while, while we search for Destiny. She’ll be in my face, every day.

Every motherfucking day.

Twenty-four hours a day.

Seven days a week.

As I walk down to the kitchen to grab his plate from the fridge, I can’t stop thinking about how well-endowed Atticus is. I’m not sure if he’ll fit, but I’m willing to give it the old college try. Take one for the team, since I am a team player in every way that counts.

Damn he’s hung.

Like a horse!

Huge.

Humongous.

Monstrous.

My pussy clenches at the thought of what he could do with that thing. I start calling it the weapon of mass orgasms, at least in my head, while I work to warm his plate of food.

I get lost in fantasy about what his package could do to me, for me. I want this man, the only issue is I want him more than just as a body to warm my bed. He’s a hard man to get to, he has walls that have steel doors holding them closed. They seem impenetrable, but I know I’ll get in there...somehow. Time, that’s how I’ll do it. It seems like it’s gonna take a while for them to find Destiny, and even though she’s my primary focus, I’ll use our...closeness...to my advantage.

The microwave dings, letting me know his food is warm. I grab it, a bottle of water, and head up the stairs. Once I reach the door, I square my shoulders and hold my head high. If it is going to take some explosions to get to him, I need to start with sparklers and go up in caliber from there. I’m no rocket scientist, but I know that slot A can take part B, if you get my meaning. And I’m going to work the sexiness I know how to portray and use it to my advantage.

Hold on Atticus, I’m coming for you.

He’s sitting against the headboard when I enter, a remote in his hand. “Here you go,” I say, swaying my hips while walking toward him with the plate and water.

“Coulda come downstairs,” he replies. He’s a stubborn man, guess I need to find out what holds him hostage inside and begin tearing that down, piece by glorious piece.

“Yeah, but I’m sure you’re tired. This way, you can eat and then catch some sleep.” I put as much of a sultry purr in my voice as I can. I notice some packages by the dresser and raise my eyebrow. “This the stuff I ordered?” Wow, I know they said same day delivery, but usually in store talk, that means the next day, or the one after.

“Yep,” he states. A man of few words, I see. I nod and start opening the packages, being sure that the lacier items are seen. When I see I’ve got his attention, I grab a cute pair of pajamas and saunter off to the bathroom. I stop in my tracks, and realize, if I’m going to start seducing him, what better way than to strip in front of him and slowly place my clothes on my body. I keep my back turned, knowing he can see in the mirror and act as if he’s not there. Pulling his shirt over my head, I let it drop, then take the lacy camisole and slide it down once I’ve got my arms through the holes. I smooth it down, grateful that the size is true, because it hugs every curve I own. Since I’m standing there bare-assed, I grab the matching boy shorts and pull them up. I know I’m giving him a show and can feel my breathing pick up at what is going through his mind. Once I’m dressed, I pick up the discarded shirt and toss it toward the bathroom.

I look over my shoulder and see his eyes wide and he’s staring at my body. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear that was drool coming from his lips. “Like what you see?” I ask. Trying to get the better of him.

“Like, fuck, like isn’t the word I’d use,” he growls out.

“What word would you use?” I question, baiting him as I stroll back over to my side of the bed. I may not have as much experience as I sense he does, but my body has never reacted like it does around this man, and I want to fully explore it. Even though it’s probably not a good idea.

“Spectacular, speechless, breathtaking, any of those would work.”

“My, my, you are a man of many words. I like every one of them. Is that how you see me?”

“Since before you opened your mouth and ripped me one,” he winks, teasing me.

“The same can be said from me.”

“I’m sure it can, I’m not an easy man to get along with. It’s why I don’t have any close attachments.”

“Everyone needs someone, Atticus,” I state, climbing back into bed. I don’t settle too close, wanting him to make the next move. I’ve laid my cards, well most of them anyway, on the table. It’s up to him now.

“This is a bad idea, you know that right?” he questions, looking me dead in the eyes.

“I think it’s a fantastic idea,” I respond.

“I don’t do commitments,” he announces.

“Neither do I,” I pronounce. Lies, it’s all lies, but a girl has to start somewhere.

“Why do I think you’re not telling the truth,” he murmurs, using his arm to pull me close against his heated flesh.

“It’s your fears feeding your paranoia. It’s because you do everything you can not to care about someone. Just don’t fall in love with me, Atticus. And we’ll be good,” I’m going to Hell for all the lies spewing from my mouth. But I can’t wait to feel the burn while getting there.

“Never been in love, don’t plan to start now,” he proclaims before his mouth crashes down on mine. We’ll see, I think to myself as I get lost in his passion.

Fuck, he can kiss. Who knew that the hard man next to me had lips softer than silk? When his tongue swipes my lower lip, I grant him access and soon find my tongue dueling with his. His hand delves into my hair, pulling me closer, as his fingers sensuously massage my scalp. I moan into his mouth, because I’ve never felt this fire deep in my gut as I do with him, working me over with his mouth and hand. I can feel the desire pooling low in my belly and squirm a bit trying to put some pressure where it’ll do the most good.

“Stop moving, you’re squirming around like a kid on sugar.”

“I can’t help it, you’re causing me to need you to touch me.”

“Where?” he whispers. Dammit, his voice has gotten huskier, and it sends tendrils of desire through me.

“Here,” I say, taking his hand not fisted in my hair and moving it down to my pussy. “I need you to touch me here,” I reiterate.

“Patience, Hellcat,” he murmurs, moving his mouth to my jawline. Who knew that was one of my erogenous zones? I sure as hell didn’t! I mean, it’s not like I’ve been some two-bit hussy, but my exes were always focused on their end goal, not mine. I’ve also never had a one-night stand, or a friends with benefits type relationship. So this initially will be a first for me. I think I’ve unleashed something that I may never recover from.

“Please,” I beg, “it’s been so long since anyone has touched me.”

“How long, how long has it been since a man has brought you to orgasm?”

“Never,” I gasp out.

“Never? You’re telling me a woman that looks like you is a virgin?”

“What? No, not a virgin here. Just never orgasmed during sex before.”

I see the gleam in his eyes at my words and shiver. I think I just waved a red flag in front of a bull.

“If that’s a challenge, it’s accepted,” he growls, moving his lips down my shoulder. He moves my straps to the side with his fingers as he makes his way over my shoulder. The strap moves lower down my arm until my breasts pop out. My nipples are hard, standing at attention, and he notices. He removes his head from my body and takes his index finger, circling my hard tip. “I’m gonna start here,” he says, pulling the left one. “Then move here,” he says, moving his finger over to the right one. “Then, I’m going to make my way here,” he says, reaching down and pinching my clit through the thin fabric. I don’t recognize the sound I make but he appears to like it as a smirk crosses his face before he lowers his head to physically demonstrate what he’s just told me he plans to do.

Fuck! Another erogenous zone, at least where he’s concerned. I don’t even notice that he’s slid us down so we’re more comfortable on the bed, his muscular self capable of doing it with no effort whatsoever. I moan when his hand moves to manipulate the other nipple while his lips and tongue bring the other to a diamond-hard point. I’m pretty sure I can cut glass at this point, and the panties I just put on are soaked. I’ve never been this wet, and I can’t find it in myself to be even remotely embarrassed.

“Fuck, you smell good,” he says between licks. How does he know what I smell like? Oh my God! This is embarrassing! He must see the look on my face and he chuckles. “Hellcat, no need to be skittish, means I’m doing something right.”

I sniff experimentally and get hit with the overriding smell of sex wafting all around. His body has heated up, and I can feel Mr. Ginormous laying hot and heavy against my hip, occasionally twitching. Deciding to go with it, I say, “Yeah, you are, apparently.”

He moves his head to the previously neglected nipple, and applies his lips, and tongue, to that one, and I feel like I’m about to lose my mind. I could possibly orgasm from this act alone. Which is odd, because I’m the only one who’s ever given me one. Moaning has replaced understandable words and I writhe against his mouth and hands. So many things I wanna do with this man and right now, all I can do is take what he’s doing to me.

“Lay back and relax, stop thinking so hard,” he says, his lips once again capturing mine. That’s easy for him to say, I’m not doing the things to him like he’s doing to me. It’s magical, and consuming, and all I can do is think about it.