“At that age, you think Bianca masterminded all that?” he asked.
“I think a guy in a biker bar touched me in a way I didn’t like, she didn’t like, and she lost her mind on him, Deke. She got the drop on him, got him on the floor on his back and did some major damage to his face with her fingernails before she was pulled off. Her dad had to buy her out of that one and that wasn’t the first or the last. Some boy told stories about Lacey, I don’t know, we were maybe only thirteen, and Anca herself went, staked out his parents’ house, waited until they were all out and broke into his bedroom. She wrecked it completely and bragged about it to me and Lacey, proud she was looking out for her girl. No one ever found out it was her, because of course we’d never tell, but that boy freaked the fuck out. Nothing touched in the house but his shit, clothes, furniture, everything torn apart. The message was sent and it was clear. He didn’t say shit about anybody again, as far as I knew.”
“So she’s got a highly-tuned revenge streak.”
“Yes, I think so, but that kind of thing hasn’t happened in a long time. And lately, the last few years…it’s been that, honey, it’s been years she’s been folding in on herself…Lacey and me, we had shit going on. We didn’t notice it at first. And then…”
She didn’t finish that thought but Deke knew what she was saying.
It was too late.
He reached out a hand and touched his finger lightly to her knee.
That was all it took with Jussy.
She pulled in a breath and pulled it together.
“Don’t tell that to Decker,” she asked softly. “I don’t…” She shook her head again. “Let me talk to Lacey. She’s with her folks right now, went to them for her break instead of coming out here. They’re upset about Bianca now, and were already upset about what happened to me. That’s why she’s texting. She doesn’t want to talk in front of them. Especially about Tony. I’ll text her and talk to her when she’s alone and can do that talking freely.”
“Text, gypsy,” he urged. “Set that up so you can talk that out. Then, you already picked all your paint colors. Got the paint for downstairs, not the upstairs rooms. We’ll go get it so I’m good to go when I’m back at it tomorrow. Sound like a plan?”
She nodded, picking up her phone.
He grabbed their garbage while she texted.
Then she dressed and he loaded her up in his truck and got them on their way.
Suddenly, she said, “Paying a stylist to make a sixteen-year-old mean girl’s hair fall out is a far cry from finding a hitman, Deke.”
Deke grabbed her hand, advising again, “Do not flip out until you know what you’re flippin’ out about.”
“The guy strangled me, scared the shit out of me, I thought he was going to kill me. I cannot pull up a lot of emotion about the fact he’s dead. It’s not being vengeful or in denial. It’s just that he doesn’t matter to me. But if Bianca was behind that. If she was there—”
“Babe, what’d I say?”
She didn’t answer.
“Justice.”
“Do not flip out until I know what I’m flipping out about.”
“Our focus is paint,” he told her.
“Our focus is paint,” she repeated after him.
“And you gotta decide what you want for dinner.”
“But I decided lunch.”
“And I decided how I was gonna fuck you before lunch. I’m tradin’ my turn on dinner on deciding how I’m gonna fuck you tonight.”
He glanced at her as he turned on County Road 18.
She was grinning at him.
When he looked back to the road, she said, “Deal.”
That was good.
Because he’d already decided how he was going to fuck her and that goodness was happening for certain.
*
Deke drove into his Jussy on his knees, one of her legs pressed straight up his torso, the other leg curled around his hip, her hands above her head pushing into the headboard, taking him.
She was panting softly, a sound he felt drive through his dick. He could see through the moonlight that her eyes were hooded, her hair all over the pillows, her tits bouncing with his thrusts, and she was so gorgeous, he had to get her there.
Fast.
He pulled her leg off his torso, wrapped it around, bent over her and pulled her up into his arms.
He fell back to his calves.
Jussy swung her legs back around and hooked the tops of her feet on his thighs.
Deke wound one hand in her hair, the other arm he kept around her waist.
She curled both arms around his shoulders.
She bent her head to him, lips brushing his, pants blending with his rough breaths.
He drove up inside her.
She rode him hard.
“Need help gettin’ there, gypsy?” he grunted, powering up faster.
She didn’t answer.
Her head fell back, her tits pressed into his chest as her spine arced, and he felt her cunt ripple around his dick as she let out a soft breath with her orgasm.
He got her there.
So Deke plunged fast and deep, taking himself there with her, shooting into the condom, into his gypsy, his face buried between her tits.