Call Me Killer (24 page)

“Griff!”

I wasn't sure, and I don't think she was either, if her cry was protest or encouragement.

“If you need a safeword, how about this one: Lorelei. That has a nice ring to it, no?”

She froze. Her face turned ashen.

I kept my voice hard and drove myself fully inside her. “You lied to me.”

She moved her mouth, but no words came out. She was more rattled than I'd ever seen her. Not even when I'd put my hands around her throat had she looked so dismayed.

“Nothing to say?” I withdrew slowly, hardly able to keep from groaning, then rammed her again. I raised the crop, poising the leather tab above her right nipple. “Say your name. Your real name.”

“Rory,” she said.

I struck. I won't lie and say it was hard to do. Maybe I hadn't realized how much I enjoy playing the sadist. I did it again, using not just the tab, but the rod portion of the crop. That had to hurt, but I loved the way her back arched in response, driving me deeper into her.

Nice. I whipped her again.

She didn't crack. “My name is Rory. That's the name I claimed for my own instead of the lame-ass name my mother gave me.”

“Use your safeword,” I growled, raising the crop for another blow. I slapped it down and Rory moaned. There were rosy lines on her breasts now. “Say it, damn you.”

“I won't.”

God, she was stubborn. I cropped her again. I told myself I didn't really want to hurt her. Much. Or make her hate me. Fuck, I wasn't sure what the hell I wanted. The feel of her hot pussy around me was making my head spin, and that only increased when she rotated her hips, grinding up against me in an unmistakably willing way.

“I won't say it. Safewords are for stopping. I don't want you to stop, Griff. Please don't stop.”

Jeez. Score one for Rory. She couldn't use her limbs or even her mouth, but she used the muscles of her vagina to draw me deeper and squeeze me hard and hold me. And damn, that's all it took. I dropped the crop and let myself down so I could kiss her. Our tongues danced the tango while I caressed her face, her hair, her earlobes. She said my name again, and fuck me if I didn't love hearing it.

She moaned and moved faster, finding her own rhythm, taking me with her. Every time I pulled back, she arched off the mattress as if unwilling to let me retreat even a millimeter. Every time I pumped in deep she seemed to suck me in even farther until I could no longer imagine being separate. She was all spread out for me, submissive, vulnerable, unable even to stroke me with her fingers, yet she was all around me, hot and sweet and sticky as honey. I was the one on top, the one in control, taking what was mine and enjoying the hell out of her. But I was lost in her all the same.

Her mouth, which had been furiously kissing mine, opened in a gasp, and I felt her tense around my cock and then ripple with a series of powerful contractions. From somewhere deep in her throat came a piercing cry.

It was all I needed to roll over the edge myself, and we were both arching and throbbing in shards of pleasure so exquisite that I felt as if a bolt of lightning had driven divine fire through me, searing my soul.

Griff

Coming down was rockier than usual. I'd been the one whipping her, but I felt battered and torn.

As the pleasure ebbed, anger flowed back into me. I disentangled our limbs and reached overhead to release her wrists from the leather cuffs. I undid her ankles, too, then got up from the bed and coldly put on my clothes.

Rory sat up, massaging her wrists. They weren't scored; my cuffs were well-designed and I knew my BDSM safety rules. The red lines across her breasts from the riding crop were already beginning to fade.

She sat up, hugging her knees with one arm. “He told you, didn't he? Connor Finlay. He used that picture he took of me to track me down.”

“You lied to me from the start.”

“Most of what I told you was true. I just didn't fill you in on the details.”

“You said your mother was a whore.”

“I said my friend LaVerle, whom everyone calls Mom, was a sex worker. Which is true.”

“Yeah, and your real mom was an exotic dancer.”

“I didn't actually
say
that. You drew that inference.”

“Not good enough, Rory,” I was getting angrier. “You told me she'd tried to auction you off when you were a teenager.”

“Well, yeah, I admit that was a bit of an exaggeration. But she did get a bunch of studio heads together and tried to convince them to put me in this dick movie. I didn't want to do it, and she was pissed as hell when I refused. I never wanted to be like her. I wanted to go to college and live my own life. It's all I've ever wanted.”

“Yeah, well if acting is not your thing, why did you make a fucking
Good Will Hunting
rip-off? You even directed it.”

“Did Finlay tell you that, too?” Her tone was scathing. “That was different. That was a low-budget documentary about improving kids’ math and science skills in the poorer parts of the city. It had nothing to do with the kind of crap they do in Hollywood.”

“Shall we look you up on IMDB? You're an actress. Maybe even a better actress than your mother. You sure fooled me with the act you've been laying down here all week.”

“That wasn't an act.”

“Yeah, well it sure looked like one to me.”

She drew herself up, stark naked, and knelt in the middle of the bed. Then she cupped her bare breasts in her palms. She arched her back, thrusting her chest forward, as if offering herself to me.

“The way I feel when I'm with you is no act, Griff. I've never known anything like this before. If you don't believe me, pick up that crop and hit me again. I liked it. And I like you.”

I gaped at her.

“No.” She stuck her chin out in that defiant way of hers. “I don't just like you. The truth is, I love you, Griff. I'm glad you didn't murder Hadley, but I was sure you hadn't, right from the start. That kind of evil isn't in you. When I'm with you I feel excited and buoyant and filled with joy. I wish you weren't so down on yourself all the time because I think you're amazing.”

This was so unexpected that I didn't know how to respond. I just stood there staring at her swollen, lightly marked breasts, her tangled brown hair, and her big blue eyes, and the pinch of her waist and swell of her hips. My cock stirred again. This was the same girl who had only had sex a few times before she'd met me, and now she'd turned into Aphrodite.

“You'd better get dressed,” was all I said. Then I added, “I'm a dick and an asshole. Remember?” And I left her alone in my bedroom.

When she came out a little while later, she kept her face averted as she found her backpack and began stuffing her small pile of possessions into it. But I could tell that she had been crying. Dammit.

“Lorelei,” I said.

“Don't call me that.”

“I like the sound of it.” I wasn't lying. It was a strange and beautiful name.

She made an anguished noise and sat down heavily on the sofa. I could hear her pain, even though I didn't totally understand it. We'd only known each other for a few days. What had she expected from me?

Making her miserable wasn't what I wanted. But whatever I did want was unclear. She was such a strange being in my world. So brittle, so smart, so funny and so generous. She was like a bright butterfly flitting around my apartment, going in and out of her cocoon at the computer desk. Right from the start I hadn't known how to treat her. I'd never known anyone like her.

I like you. No, I don't just like you. I love you.

No one had ever said that to me. No woman, anyway. I’d been pretty sure, after being accused of murder, that no woman ever would.

Rory had trusted me. She’d made me feel human again. She’d given me hope, made me laugh. But I'd hidden all that from her because it made me feel so fucking vulnerable. I was hiding it still.

But she'd lied to me.

I stalked around the room, feeling as if steam were blowing out of my ears. Rory just sat there, her shoulders hunched, her beautiful smile gone.

“I thought you were poor. I thought you'd had to overcome all sorts of disadvantages. I admired you for that. It made me think that if you could do it, maybe I could do it, too. But it was all a lie. An act. You're even richer than Hadley was.”

“That's bullshit. I'm on an allowance and I work part-time. I don't want my mother's money, anyhow. I'll earn my own.”

“Look, you're fucking famous. Your brother's a rock star. Your sister's a supermodel.”

“Lily's not a supermodel. She's just a regular model.”

“Whatever—you come from a family full of celebrities. I have enough trouble with the press hounding me as it is.”

“I'm not famous. The rest of my family isn't
me
. I'm just some movie star's weird-ass daughter. The press stays away from me.”

“Yeah, well, what if they don't?” I was remembering what Finlay had said. “If this gets out... Hadley might not be safe. Or free. Finlay warned me that she could be in danger.”

“No one will ever find out through me.” She looked furious that I would even suggest such a thing. “Plus, I told you—maybe you weren't listening—but Marks promised to make sure the word is out that you’re innocent. He can do it, I’m sure. He’s powerful enough.”

“You should know. You’re from his world, not mine.” I was still angry, too. “That bastard is probably behind this whole thing. He admitted that he’d been with Hadley.”

“Hadley! It's always been Hadley, hasn't it?” She sounded bitter as she said this. Then she shook her head violently, as if to drive out such thoughts. “You found out that she might still be alive, and suddenly I'm superfluous. Well fine. I understand that. But please don't rant at me because I didn't confess that I grew up in Beverly Hills or that my mother's been Hollywood's sweetheart for more than two decades. Or that my brother's the lead singer for Lashed. Usually people want to know me
because
of those things. But I'm tired of only being wanted because I'm Nina's daughter or Jesse's sister. For once, I thought, wow, this guy actually seems to like me for myself.”

I admit I hadn't thought about it from that angle. But I was still too pissed off and confused.

“Anyway, no harm no foul,” she said, packing up her laptop. “I'm going to walk to the train. I really appreciate your letting me stay for a few days. And grateful for the way you rescued me from Crazy Ray on the night we met. And for punching out Silas Marks.”

Could I let her go?

Could I make her stay?

How could I make a decision? I didn’t know what I fucking wanted. I hadn't had time to think.

“I'll drive you to the station,” I said. It had started storming outside. I could hear raindrops hitting the roof.

“No. I want to walk. I want to say goodbye to you here. Okay? Let's not drag this out.”

But I didn't want her to leave. Fuck. I crossed to her and tried to kiss her. She slipped away, turning her face from mine. I caught her chin in my fingers and turned it back. She grimaced and fought me. Her large blue eyes were swimming with tears.

“Rory, don't.” She kept struggling to get out of my arms. But I held her fast. Silly little girl. I was bigger and stronger and she wasn't getting away from me that easily. I lowered my mouth to hers, and her resistance died. Her arms came around me, and we clung.

“Look,” she said, when we finally stopped kissing. “I understand. You were in love with Hadley and you lost her. You believed for over a year that she was dead, but now she turns up alive. Of course you want to find her. Save her, if she needs saving. Maybe it's impossible, and maybe you won't be able to figure out where she is or why she left, but you have to try. I totally get it.”

Was that it? Was that really what I wanted to do? Find her? Hadley was in Istanbul. Or maybe not. She’d told me herself that she didn’t want to be found. Anyway, what did I know about saving people? Especially people who didn’t even want to be rescued?

Nothing. Nada. That had been Sean's thing, and look where it had gotten him.

And I hadn’t been in love with Hadley. I’d liked her and I’d had a lot of fun with her, but there had been no love on either side.

You've got to let this go.

“I'm glad you get it,” I said in a harsher tone than I probably should have used. “Because I sure as hell don't. I'm just trying to deal with this shit. That she's alive. More important, that you lied to me. That I have no fucking clue what's going to happen next. Or even what I want to happen.”

She pulled away from me. “You'll figure it out, Griff. I know you will.”

She pulled on her fleece jacket and found her ugly boots, thrusting her feet into them. Then she grabbed her backpack and headed for the door.

I should let her go.

I should tie her to my bed.

I reached for her, unable to resist, but she held up her palm. Her shoulders were squared in that tough, determined way I'd seen a few times before. “Lorelei,” she said.

Fuck!

Had she really just safeworded on our whole relationship?

She gave me her brilliant, shining smile and walked out my door.

Rory

My heart had cracked in two. I splashed miserably through the puddles that were forming from the deluge. I was wet through, and chilly with it, but I didn’t care. I’d been stupid, stupid, stupid and now I was paying the price.

Griff had been so angry. I couldn't even blame him. I’d turned his whole life into an open book, but I’d hidden mine.

I should have been more honest. But I hated it when people knew about my famous family. I loved my mom and my brother and sister, too, but I’d been compared to them all my life, usually to my detriment.

How a geek like me had been born into a Hollywood family was the persistent mystery of my life. I’d always figured I must have been adopted because, duh, what weird blending of the genetic soup that had produced a famous actress, a famous rockstar, and an about to be famous model had also spit out me?

When Griff had assumed I’d been born in the projects because he’d picked me up there, I’d just about killed myself laughing, but I’d quickly bought into the idea. LaVerle had been like another mom to me when I’d been shooting my documentary; in some ways she’d been more nurturing than my own mother.