Dark Destiny by Avelyn Paige

Delilah

I needto tell Rhett what I’ve learned. That I know all about his sister’s murder, and that Chad was the one who had killed her. The thought of keeping my knowledge a secret from him has burned a hole in my stomach, making me toss and turn over the last few nights.

He needs to know. Part of me is terrified that he won’t exactly appreciate my internet sleuthing, but another part—a very important part—knows I have to bring him around. He can’t do what he came here to do. No matter how brutal his sister’s murder was, Rhett doesn’t belong here. He belongs on the outside, with or without me.

I also need to tell him about the sheriff, and that he knows about my one-on-one time with him.

I stomp through the entrance of the jail and head straight for the kennels, not stopping to talk to anyone. I pass a few guards as I turn down the hallway, and one of them makes a point of winking at me. Weird.

I shove the uneasiness aside and continue on my way. I need to stay laser focused before I lose my nerve about talking to Rhett.

I’m nearly at the heavy metal door that leads into the kennel when a hand clamps onto my arm. Quickly tugging me through a door I hadn’t even noticed before, I go to scream, but a hand clamps down over my mouth, and my back lands against something hard. A door slams behind me, plunging me and my attacker into total darkness. It all happens so fast.

With every ounce of strength I can muster, I fight. I squirm and kick, and shriek out a nearly inaudible scream muffled by someone’s meaty palm.

“Jesus, woman,” a voice whispers in my ear. “Take it easy.” Whoever has me shifts his body and mine, and suddenly a bare lightbulb clicks on overhead.

“You asshole!” I whisper-shout, nearly in tears. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Rhett stands before me, a smug grin on his face.

I smack his arm. “What do you think you’re doing? Do you want to get an extra charge added?”

Chuckling, he wraps his arms around my waist, tugging me closer. “For what? Kidnapping? It’s a closet.”

I take in the small room. We are indeed inside a closet.

“Someone’s going to notice,” I hiss.

“No, they won’t.” Burying his nose in my neck, his lips brush against the sensitive skin just below my ear. “The guard is a friend of sorts. We’ve got fifteen minutes.”

His lips press tender kisses all along my throat, his arm around my waist pulling me closer, bending me backward, forcing me to submit to the delicious way his body feels against mine.

“I need to tell you something,” I say, barely able to breathe.

“It can wait,” he replies, his mouth moving to cover mine. I shove him away, and he leans back, his gaze holding mine. “We don’t have much time, Flower Child. This may be our only shot.”

His eyes are filled with the same need I’ve been battling for weeks now, and suddenly, I don’t want to think about murder or revenge, or that sick bastard, Chad. I want to wrap myself up in this beautiful man and make him feel as good as he makes me feel with just a look.

“Fuck it.” Reaching out, I grab the sides of his face and pull him to me, crushing my lips to his.

Rhett leans into me, his hands at my pants, tugging on the button of my jeans. As soon as they pop open, he tears his lips from mine and kneels before me, dragging my pants and panties down with him.

My cheeks flame as he buries his nose between my legs and inhales.

“You smell so fucking good, Flower Child,” he growls. His tongue comes out and slides along the crease. He can’t reach much in this position, but when the tip of his tongue drags across my clit, my knees nearly buckle.

“God,” I pant.

Pressing his nose into my mound, he flicks it again and again, sucking and nipping at it, pulling that tiny bundle of nerves to the point where I can barely breathe.

“Quiet, baby.” His voice vibrates against me. “If we get caught, we’re both in the shit.”

Clapping a hand over my mouth, I place my other hand on the back of his silky-smooth head. In rhythm with his tongue, I roll my hips, giving his tongue more access to my sweet spot by pressing his face tighter to my body.

My release hits me like a tidal wave, washing me out to a sea of utter euphoria, and I happily ride it, moaning and panting into my hand.

“Fuck, baby.” Getting to his feet, he reaches for his pants and spins me around. “Hands on the wall,” he orders.

I hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper as I place my hands on the wall in front of me. Spreading my legs apart, as far as they’ll go with my jeans still wrapped around my ankles, he presses his hand on my back, bending me forward until my bare ass hits the heat radiating off his very hard, very large erection.

“Oh, God,” I gasp.

Rhett enters me in one swift, quick motion, filling me entirely, barely pausing as his hips begin their steady, delicious rhythm.

“Pussy feels so fucking good,” he groans, grasping my hips in his hands and slamming my ass back onto him. “Fucking perfect.”

Me, I can’t say a word. I can’t breathe. I can’t talk. All I can do is try to keep my moans to a minimum and enjoy the thorough pleasure I’m feeling at this moment.

A second release coils itself low in my belly, and this time, every part of me feels like it’s on fire.

“Fuck,” I gasp. “Harder, Rhett.”

Skin slaps against skin, and I have to adjust my hands to prevent my head from slamming into the wall. But I don’t fucking care, because this time, Rhett rides the wave with me.

My orgasm shatters every ounce of tension in my body, and all I can feel is him. Me, him, and perfection, as he shivers with his own release.

We stay that way for a moment, both of us panting. I don’t know about him, but I’m smiling from ear to ear.

“Rhett,” I whisper, slowly bringing myself to a standing position and reaching for my pants.

A rap at the door has me nearly leaping out of my own damn skin. “Time to go, big guy,” a voice calls from the other side. “Wrap it up.”

Rhett tucks himself back into his pants, condom and all, and smiles down at me. Pressing his lips to my forehead, he holds me close. “You're an amazing woman, Flower Child. And this right here,”—he motions around the tiny closet—“I won’t forget this. Not ever.”

He turns, then, putting himself closer to the door and shielding me from being seen. “Don’t go,” I plead. “We need to talk.”

“We will, baby, but I have to go.”

He plants one last kiss on my lips, and then he’s gone.