"The Hacker and the Mob Boss" ❦
Reyna Fields seems to be an ordinary girl with her thick-framed glasses, baggy clothes, hair always up in a ponytail, and her head tucked away behind a computer screen. However, no one knows she's armed with a genius...
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The beads of water softly caressed my skin as evaporation massaged every tense muscle. I wasn't sure how long I stayed here with my back pressed against the marble wall. All I knew was that my fingertips were beginning to wrinkle and my tears had finally stopped.
Saint's words kept repeating themselves in my mind over and over and over and over again. There was always this voice in the back of my mind that Saint only echoed. Now, the voice was amplified, triggering my recurring depression.
My mother could be dead, I've always questioned that. However, I always imagined my mother's death to crash down on me. There was an ignition of a fire within my soul that wanted to keep fighting, and if she were dead, I've always assumed that the fire would quickly be unlit.
My heart beats for my mother. If she were dead-truly dead-so would I. There was no else in the world for me. I would be locked up in that house by the shore all alone. There would be no purpose for me. Loneliness, my best friend, would be the only person whispering that everything would be okay.
My mother is alive.
I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. The towel I always used was hanging from a hook. I reached over, wrapping the soft, black cloth around my body.
I turned the door knob and pulled the door open. The moment I stepped into my dark room, I could just feel that something was off. I wasn't sure if it was the chill in my room or the uneasiness that caused the hairs on my body to stand accompanied by small goosebumps.
Slowly, I began to make my way to the door but just before I could get out, I was grabbed by my throat and pulled into a familiar chest. By the thick smell of rum, I knew exactly who it was.
"I've been waiting for you," he said, speaking into my neck almost seductively. As if the words he previously bombarded at me meant absolutely nothing, he stroked my bare thigh with his hand, causing my towel to travel farther up my body.
He let go of my neck for his hand to travel lower until he was grasping my breast in his palm. The hand on my thigh began to climb up and up until he was so close to my core that I was sure he could the heat coming from it.
"Saint," I said warningly. "What do you think you're doing?"
He chuckled so darkly that I wasn't even sure I was speaking to the same person.
Without a word, he cupped my pussy like it belonged to him. I was some doll he just received for Christmas, his new favorite toy.
It shouldn't have, but damn I couldn't stop how good it made me feel. I reached down to clutch his arm, trying to keep him from making me like it even more, but it only encouraged him to slide his finger into my pussy.
I tossed my head back against his chest as weakness settled in my knees, but the way he held my core was enough to support me. As he massaged my vaginal walls, he was playing with my breasts. I glanced down to watch as his finger rammed in and out of me, collecting my juices, proving my arousal.
