Page 57 of Wrathful Malice
“He did, and he even said she looked like a Stella. He said, ‘If I sell this to you, do you promise to always maintain her, and keep her in pristine condition to the best of your ability’. I said ‘yes, sir’. Dad got out of the car, and we took her for a test drive. Mr. Kerrigan sold her to us for a thousand dollars. Before he passed away, I’d go home every once in a while, and prove I kept my word. I even took him for rides around town.”
“No wonder you take such good care of her.”
“I keep my promises,” I tell him with a smile. “Tell me about you. Where are you from?”
Malice stills behind me, and his arms constrict around my waist. For a moment, I think he’s not breathing, but then his breath tickles my neck, and he loosens his hold.
“Why don’t we head back to the clubhouse?” he counters, completely ignoring my question. “We can eat pizza and watch a movie in my room.”
I can’t help but laugh when he bobs his eyebrows suggestively. Deciding not to push him, I stand up.
“Sounds like a plan. On one condition,” I tack on.
His expression turns suspicious. “What?”
“I get to pick the movie.”
Malice appears to think about it for a moment before nodding. “Fine. As long as it’s none of that girlie-crying romance shit.” His body shutters with revulsion, making me giggle.
“No girlie shit,” I agree. “Got it. I’m more of an action girl anyway.”
Malice cups my face and leans in. “Perfect.”
Me or my movie preference?
I don’t have time to entertain that line of thought because his mouth crashes down on mine. Cupping my ass, he lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. I grind down on his hardening cock, seeking friction. Malice moans and suddenly, I find myself back on the bike, both of us breathing heavily. His finger brushes against my breast, and my nipple hardens beneath my shirt. I graze my hand over his crotch, but he reaches between us and grabs my wrist before I can do anything else.
“I don’t want to fuck you in the desert, and that’s exactly what will happen if you touch me like that. Let’s get back to the clubhouse,” he says, his tone laced with promise.
“Yes, please.”
The ride back isn’t as pleasant as the ride to the desert was. I’m on edge, and the vibrations aren’t helping. I need to come, to release some tension, but I don’t want that relief to come from an engine. I want Malice to be the one to give it to me.
When we get back to the clubhouse, he leads me to his room. While I scroll through Netflix to find a movie, Malice texts a prospect to bring us a pizza from the kitchen.
After we eat, we snuggle up on Malice’s bed and watchBullet Train.And the entire time, he doesn’t make a move. I get tired of waiting, so I roll over to kiss him, and find him passed out.
Well, there goes my release.
“Where doyou think you’re going?”
I stop in my tracks on my way out of the Sunday school classroom, and my muscles tense. Matt, John, and Mary already left the room, leaving me alone with the Devil himself. Not that they know about Deacon Block. I haven’t confided in them, nor will I… ever.
“I have to go to confession,” I say lamely.
“Father Brine knows where you are,” Deacon Block says as he walks around me to shut the door and flip the lock.
“But my parents don’t. They’ll be expecting me.”
He turns to face me and frowns. “Should I go get Mark?”
I scrub my hands over my face before lowering them to my sides. “No.”
His frown flips, and his smile makes me want to puke. He nods toward the side of the room, indicating the couch. “You know what to do.”
As I make my way to the ugly floral-patterned loveseat, I send up a silent prayer that today will be the day Deacon Block and Father Brine get caught. I don’t know why I bother because if the last two years have proven anything to me, it’s that God doesn’t give a crap.
I don’t even think he exists.