Chapter Twelve: Nathan
I had a lot on my mind when I woke up the next morning after only a few hours of sleep. The sun had barely risen by the time I was back out on the beach, running my ass off again.
I didn’t see anyone at all the day before. Once I got home from my little interrogation, I checked on Claire to make sure she was okay, but otherwise I didn’t bother checking in with my mother. She was probably either too drunk to care or just being her usual bitchy self.
Frankly, I had much more important things to worry about. The revelations of the night before were pretty huge, almost as huge as me fucking Claire until she could barely walk. I hoped I left her sore and limping the next day, and I wished I had stuck around a little bit to check it out.
But it was better I was gone all day. I didn’t want her to get ideas about shit between us. I may have fallen asleep with her, broken a rule or two, but I wasn’t the type of guy to make some spoiled rich girl into something more important than she was.
Claire was a good fuck. That was it. Her pussy was like crack and my cock was an addict, but I wasn’t going to give in to that shit. I got my fix and now I was done. It was going to be better that way, anyway.
Still, there was shit happening that we didn’t know about, important shit. It was no accident that those guys attacked our boat that day. I still couldn’t believe a local outfit like the Broken Hearts would be willing to attack their own people, which meant that they were specifically targeting us.
The further implications were staggering, but I didn’t have time for that shit. I wasn’t a bodyguard and I wasn’t a damn detective. Better that I give Jonathan the information I had and be done with it. He could definitely afford to hire some serious muscle.
I was good and exhausted by the time I got back to the house. I was drenched in sweat and nice and loosened up, to the point where I wasn’t worrying about any damn local cults or hot-as-fuck stepsisters.
I opened my laptop and immediately Googled the name I had been given: Eli Reddington. I stared at the search results, clicking them one by one, but found nothing important. As far as I could tell, there was no Reddington in the Outer Banks at all. I went through every page, meticulously following every lead, and found nothing.
Dan the barman probably had lied to me. I cursed, slamming shut my laptop lid. I should have pressed him harder, hurt him more, but I had held back. He was an innocent guy, after all. But apparently not so innocent. Now there was no way I was getting any more information from him. I was positive he was long gone.
That wasn’t like me. It wasn’t normal for me to go soft on a guy, especially when important, mission-critical information could ride on what he said. I was pissed off at how stupid I had been, and now I was back to square one. “Reddington” was a dead end. At least he had told me who the Broken Hearts were; it hadn’t been a total bust.
Annoyed, I went for a walk, my thoughts back on the cult and my damn stepsister. Somehow, she was wrapped up in everything.
As I moved around back, I paused when I saw her sitting out by the pool. It wasn’t even noon yet, but the sun was hot and strong. The suntan oil on her skin glistened in the light, and her bikini showed off her perfect, full figure. Her tits and thighs looked fucking delicious, and I suddenly remembered the way she had sucked my cock, both tender and fierce. I wanted to grab her hair and shove my dick down her throat while I tongued her little clit. I felt my cock begin to stir in my shorts and felt annoyed that my hard-won relaxation was totally destroyed the second I saw her.
She tipped down her sunglasses when she noticed me staring.
“I thought you were gone for good,” she said.
I walked over and grinned at her. “Just been busy.”
“Sure.” She slipped her sunglasses on and looked away.
That coy, bitchy shit just made me want her more. I knew it was all an act, pretending like she didn’t give a fuck. She was a virgin, after all. She couldn’t help herself but want me around, especially when I could get her soaking wet with just a pinky finger.
I turned to walk away, not wanting to deal with any bullshit, when she spoke up again.
“Where’d you disappear to yesterday?”
There it was. I knew she’d been thinking about it. Didn’t take much more than just calling her bluff.
“Had some business to take care of,” I said, turning back.
“Business,” she repeated. “Anything that has to do with what happened?”
“Which part?” I asked. “The pirates or me making you come so hard you screamed?”
“I didn’t scream,” she said, sitting up.
“You did. You also nearly tore the sheets in half with how hard you were gripping them.”