Part 13 (2/2)

”Diana!” he roared and pictured her beautiful lips as she groaned Cupid again.

In several hot, tight seconds, his seed spilled all over his fingers and dripped onto the floor.

Still he couldn't stop stroking, not even when the l.u.s.t trickled out of his c.o.c.k, and the rim went numb.

When had been the last time he'd even satisfied himself this way? s.e.x tended to come out of need versus want. When he had the urge, he simply went to a club, picked someone up, took them to a hotel, and f.u.c.ked their brains out.

Masturbation was never necessary, although he'd been wanting to touch himself more and more since he bought the rose-scented lotion.

”Diana, you're in my head.” Asher stared down at his now limp c.o.c.k, wet with lotion and c.u.m. ”But I'll have you in reality soon enough.”

Twelve.

Diana

Diana sat in the back of Asher's limo, while his driver brought her to the Bishop Estates.

And what a sight to behold. Green, lush gra.s.s spread out for miles. When they pa.s.sed the first entrance, three guards had stood in the booth and waved.

Rose bushes outlined the path as they continued onto Asher's property. A small pond sat on the right. On the left, huge trees had been manicured into perfect oval shapes and dotted with Florida's famed oranges.

Diana pressed the b.u.t.ton on the side of her door. The window slid down, and she breathed in sweet, fruity air.

Besides the tires skidding along the road and the few birds chirping in the tree, the property held a natural quiet. It was a vibration of silent rhythm that held no real sound, but told the average person walking by that things were alive around them.

A peaceful bliss rose within her.

She should've been nervous, or at least taken aback by the past days horrific events as well as the uncertainty of each future day in front of her.

But she wasn't.

Instead, excitement skidded all over her skin, jumping around from pore to pore like tiny little fairies giggling and playing in spring.

Then they reached the second entrance. The limo paused as two security guards walked out of their booth, did a quick peek of the limo's back window, waved at her, and then gestured for the driver to enter.

A huge iron gate beeped three times and then slowly slid open.

He has some serious security happening. When did you get all of these men, Asher? Before or after you learned about the possible serial killer on the island. Are you that scared? Maybe you should be.

Suddenly, capturing Cupid rose to an even higher importance. Diana yearned for justice, just because it was the right thing to do when some crazy person took lives. She would've exhausted herself with this investigation, regardless, just for the simple fact that she lived on the island. Neil being a victim, propelled her need to find this guy. Maybe, putting Cupid away would get her some closer.

But now that she added Asher to the mix, things had gotten even deeper.

I don't want him to die by Cupid's hands. Asher deserves better. He's a good man.

Despite her desire to capture Cupid, there was a small nagging at the back of her brain that cautioned her. Cupid was doing Ovid Island a service, like a superhero. Who would rid the island of it's sc.u.m if he was caught?

The limo rounded the corner, and a ma.s.sive mansion appeared right in front of her eyes and all her thoughts floated away as she stared at the architecture. It was made out of huge blocks of gray stone that had little flower and leaf carvings around the edges. Diana guessed the place possessed at least three levels and could probably provide housing for twenty large families.

Wow. And I thought Neil liked to spend money. This place is insanely big. Why have I never heard about this property? Why don't I remember meeting Asher before Neil died? Was he involved in the island society? He doesn't seem like someone that can stomach the people here.

Diana was no stranger to dirty, unrighteous wealth.

She'd grown up watching men and women steal, cheat, and even kill to gain their financial superiority. She couldn't deny that she had done some of the same things herself to get to the top. She justified it with her rags-to-riches past. The spirit of the tough streets always beat in her heart. She could never forget where she came from. Or the price she had to pay to get where she'd ended up. That mentality served her well, when she lived in rough places like Miami and New York City.

Ovid Island reeked of a different sort of toughness. If not for Neil, she probably would've never moved to the place, never been exposed to the disgusting gorging and spending of the elite.

Diana's first few months there, had been h.e.l.l.

She'd been unprepared to live around the truly filthy rich. Instead of guarding her purse from the happen-to-run-by-pick-pocketers like she'd dealt with in Central Park, she had to protect her back from being stabbed by wealthy housewives with nothing to do. Instead of gripping her mace and looking out for attackers that crept in the shadows of South Beach, she had to guard her tongue and keep her cool, as evil CEOs tried to gag her articles and limit her reporting.

She'd had to claw her way through Ovid Island's upper crust society with only her intuition. Having several literary awards and a sparkling writing career didn't hurt either.

Maintaining her figure and cla.s.sic look also worked. Instead of being looked down upon because of her dark, smoothened skin, she was reveled. Wherever Diana's face appeared, men took notice.

I should look more into Asher when I have time. I wonder who he spends his time with around the island? What clique does he run with? Who's back has he stabbed to get to where he is today?

From Asher's limo window, she stared out at the monstrosity of the mansion, and realized that maybe they weren't too different from each other, after all. That perhaps, their rise to glory was more alike than she wanted to admit.

The driver stopped, got out of the car, came to her door, and opened it. ”Mrs. Carson, are all of these your bags, or will I be returning to pick up more?”

Diana gestured to her laptop bag, full of her computer, phone, and tape recorder for any quick voice notes. ”I have everything I care about at least. Of course, there's some luggage in the back.”

The driver punched b.u.t.tons on his cell and talked into it. ”Sir? Yes, she is here. Okay. Only a few bags, Sir. Okay. Yes. I will send Jenkins down to fetch the rest of her luggage from her home.”

Excuse me? Who is he talking to? What do you mean the rest of my luggage from my house? I don't need that much stuff.

”Yes, Sir.” The driver shut off his phone, and turned toward Diana. ”We'll take care of your bags, Ma'am. Mr. Bishop is coming out to greet you.”

”What did you mean about getting the rest of my luggage from my house?”

”I was told to get all of your belongings.”

”But I have everything I need, right here.”

<script>