Wine and Gun

He smashed his forehead on Herstal's shoulder and muttered in a slightly exaggerated tone, "Herstal!"

The other party completely ignored the head that was arching around his neck, and he lowered his eyes and pointed out coldly: "You killed a sheep at Leohard Schreiber's house and piled its entrails. In his piano?"

"Don't you like Salvador Dali?" Albarino asked in a rather innocent and aggrieved tone, "I like Dali very much."

"It's not about Dalí at all." Herstal sighed, and he reached out to grab Albarino's curly hair—a gesture he did more and more since the other's hair got longer and longer. It's easy--the fingers tightened slightly, forcing the other person's head up a little, looking down at the green eyes, "First, you're basically jumping in front of Officer Hardy and yelling 'I'm alive'; second, even if You have to do this, and you shouldn't be here again tonight, didn't you think that they might have investigated you? Finally, you can't tell me a certain idea and you will come up with the exact same thing out there Come on - it's plagiarism."

Albarino looked at him with wide eyes, his arms still languidly around his waist. The cheerfulness in the man's voice as he spoke proved that he was clearly not reflecting on any aspect, he said: "Don't worry about Bart's side, they're not going to suspect Jenny Griffin's side at once: your participation The experiment is confidential to a certain extent, and the prison will not bring the information to the WLPD in the first place. I estimate that there will be at least 12 hours between the incident and the time they notice me... In addition, I have a little bit of time. I bribed a rude man who lives on the street across the street from the lab, and he will contact me immediately if a police officer enters or leaves the building."

Then, Albarino pauses a little, probably to create some kind of botched drama.

"Besides," he said briskly, "it's not plagiarism, it's a tribute."

"I've never heard of a tribute that begins before the person being honored has finished the work." Herstal pointed out, completely unmoved, that he had seen more of Albarino's rhetoric.

"...Or just take it for a little revenge: now we're even." Albarino corrected himself, "I did the whole thing on Richard Norman's boring face. Three months of planning, then the Westland pianist killed him without a word, and I had to do an autopsy on him at the end—did you ever think about how I felt?"

Herstal stared at Albarino, who did not miss the slightest look of surprise that flashed across his face. Albarino thought for a moment, then said, "Ah, I didn't tell you about it, did I?"

In fact, if the Westland pianist hadn't killed Richard Norman in one step on Sunday, the gardener probably wouldn't have gone to kill Thomas Norman right away, and set up the crime scene to be with him. corresponding state. If Herstal hadn't killed his target, he probably wouldn't have been so eager to test each other after discovering that Herstal might be the pianist - after all, the pianist and the gardener were already in the city They have coexisted for many years. If he would take the initiative to be interested in each other, he should have been interested many years ago.

"You started because of this..."

Herstal spoke slowly, leaning forward slightly, leaning close to Albarino, breathing dangerously against Albarino's skin, as if a crouching shòu was about to tear someone's throat apart. .

His voice was as light as the breath of chuī.

"...you came to provoke me?"

Albarino smiled: "I'd rather call it the 'Guide of Fate'."

"Smooth," Herstal whispered, and then his fingers brushed the side of Albarino's face, kissing his lips.

It wasn't a very tender kiss, and most of the time, things associated with Herstal Armalite are not tender. While Albarino doesn't mind feigning false hallucinations of tenderness, Herstal doesn't, his essence is more human and principled than Albarino's, and his outward manifestation is more ruthless.

So at this moment, he will smash Albarino's lips roughly, this heart may be cold, but the skin is still warm and soft, that kiss is like biting an apple with sharp teeth, when Hiro The icy head received such a kiss when the daughter of the bottom held the silver plate containing the head of St. John.

Herstal's hand slid down, and his fingers brushed the hem of Albarino's shirt and burrowed into the waistband of the other's jeans. His fingertips could still feel the touch of the scars that were gradually lightening on the other's abdomen - at that time , "psychopath" was indeed a pretty good choice for his own inclinations, but that would throw a lot of doubts on Albarino that couldn't be explained to WLPD, so he had no choice but to give up, at their table There is no such thing as flipping the table.

And now, the game has entered a certain tacit pace, and when his fingers lazily encircled the gradually hardened organ, he heard a light sigh from Albarino's lips. , the sigh fell into his mouth like a piece of soul.

Search [Book Reading Assistant] official address: www.kanshuzhushou.com Millions of popular books are free to read for life without advertisements!