Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Fuck. Cal. Keep going.” Removing his hand, Holden stretched, cock pushing through my grip. Without his restriction, I started jacking him fast and firm. By now, I knew exactly what he liked when he was close, and there was an unexpected pleasure in that knowledge, in repeated encounters. I reveled in my power as he moaned. “Need it.”
“Come on,” I urged as he wrapped an arm around me, pinning me against his torso. Funny how I loved him taking charge right up until he gave all the control to me. “Come for me.”
“It’s there. Fuck. Damn. Cal.” He arched his back, groaning as he came in creamy ribbons that ran down my fist. His expression ricocheted between pain and ecstasy, a religious experience simply watching him.
“Mmm. See?” Releasing his cock, I licked each of my fingers slowly. “Definitely for my benefit.”
“You’re so fucking hot.” Groaning as if the fact was a personal insult, Holden grinned and stretched. “I think I want to spend the rest of the day in bed.”
“As long as I get to come too.” I wasn’t sure when I’d ever been this playful with another person. Maybe never?
“Oh, you’re coming all right. Again and again.” Laughing hard, he squeezed me in a tight hug. “What am I going to do with you?”
Keep me. But I couldn’t say that, so instead, I lied. “I don’t know.”
“Cal.” Holden’s eyes said everything neither of us could voice aloud. Don’t break either of our hearts. The hope and fear in his gaze packed a punch right to my gut. Because we both knew if anyone was going to screw this up, it would be me.
I won’t hurt you, I wanted to promise but couldn’t.
“Let’s go hide away.” Standing, I offered him a hand. It was the best I could offer and not nearly enough.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Holden
“What if no one comes?” Sam paced back and forth at the front of the community center, near the double doors. We were awaiting the start of Mrs. Stapleton’s memorial service. News of Cal’s discovery had broken a few days prior, terrible timing but not entirely unexpected as the task force undoubtedly wanted to get ahead of the news cycle about the memorial and related pieces about the case.
“They’ll come.” I tried to reassure my friend even as the pacing made me dizzy. I held a cup of cheap coffee from the station set up in the rear of the room. Sam didn’t drink coffee, or I would have brought him a cup as well.
“People do love to rubberneck, if nothing else.” Returning with his own cup of coffee, Cal joined us right as Monroe and Knox arrived. I glared at Cal, a rare moment of frustration with his bluntness. “What? Not helpful?”
Knox made a sympathetic noise. Like Monroe and the rest of us, he was wearing a dress shirt and dark pants. “Cal’s right. People will come for the gossip factor, if nothing else, but I hate that her reputation is being smeared.”
“And for what?” Sam’s frown deepened. “The convicted serial killer is already spending life behind bars.”
“The killer needs to pay for this crime too.” Adjusting his tie, Monroe had no more luck soothing Sam’s ruffled feathers than I had. “And this is a chance to clear Worth’s dad of any suspicion. The full story matters.”
“Pfft.” Sam pursed his lips. “In your book, maybe. Or for Holden’s podcast. But to the people who knew and loved her? Should marital dirty laundry define her legacy? Maybe some things are better kept private.”
With that, Sam stalked off.
“He’s upset because Worth didn’t come,” I said helplessly, watching his retreating back as he found a seat near the lectern.
“I don’t think it’s just that.” Cal shook his head. “He’s got a point. Maybe I should have burned the papers.”
“Don’t talk like that.”
“The guest author on your pod had a point too.” Predictably, Cal ignored my rebuke. “Who does airing all the gory details really serve? And sure, finding out the truth is nice, but what does that pursuit cost?”
Monroe opened his mouth. Shut it again, a thin, hard line. “I’m going to find a seat.”
He strode away, Knox following after him.
“Hell.” Cal made a pained noise. “I seem to be pissing off your friend group right and left.”
“You’re not wrong.” I set aside my frustration to place a hand on his shoulder. “Glorifying violent criminals serves no one. The truth always comes at a price, and how the information is framed to the public makes a difference. Maybe the press release could have worded things better.”
Cal shrugged, eyes distant and full of hurt. “I tried for years to get the navy to acknowledge the truth about what happened on that dive. To publicly admit they fucked up. The evidence is there. But all that righteous anger got me was a wicked case of insomnia and a lot of lost years.”