by Piper Rayne
Who told him I had a date?
I glare at him. “No. Just help me up.”
“Here,” he says, offering me a hand. I take it and hold my breath while he helps me up off the ground. Another shoot of pain makes me wince, but it’s better than it was.
“Can you walk, or shall I carry you?” he says, standing there half covered in blood.
Fuck no.
“I don’t think so,” I snap.
He frowns.
“I mean… don’t try and carry me. I can walk by myself thank you very much. Anyway, you’re bleeding. If anyone needs carrying here, it should be you.”
He raises a brow and watches as I get to my feet, wincing, hopping to keep upright. Darius grabs my arm to steady me, shaking his head. The guy on the floor moans.
“Wait, my bag.”
He leaves me for a split second, to snatch it from the ground, then he’s back and offering me his arm.
“Okay, let’s get back to the club.”
“What about him?”
“We’ll give the police an anonymous tip when we get back to the warehouse.”
I nod at him and hop alongside until he loses his patience and sweeps me up in his arms, into a princess carry.
“I told you I don’t need carrying,” I scowl at him.
“I asked you if you could walk, not hop all the way fucking home. It’s quicker this way.”
I continue to glare at him but say nothing. It’s actually nice to be carried, though I pretend to hate it every step of the way. I’m also very aware of how close I am to his rock-hard chest. Wrapped in his arms, I can’t help but lean into him. He smells good. I’ll have to ask hm what shower gel he uses. My body chooses at that moment to betray me and snuggle closer. Sticking my nose on his skin becomes hard to resist.
Of all the times, now is the moment I want to get laid.
Honestly, I hate my hormones.
When we get back to the old warehouse, Darius takes me up to his quarters on the top floor, via the elevator. He doesn’t ask if I mind being at his place and I don’t tell him otherwise. I’m curious to see where he lives.
Really now, Rae? Is that the only reason?
Squashing bad thoughts down, I take a minute to look around. It’s a lot smaller than I imagined; a small living and kitchen space, a bedroom off to the side, and a tiny-looking bathroom. With the amount of money he earns, I expected something similar to Elias’s and Alexei’s. Not that I’ve been inside their place, but from the outside it looks vast.
Something must show on my face because he gives me what can only be described as an apologetic look, running his hands through his stubble. It’s a look I never thought I’d see on his face. Ever.
“Sorry. It’s not much…”
“It’s fine,” I say. “Very you,” I can’t help tagging on. Great Rae, be a bitch to the guy after he saved your ass.
He doesn’t seem ruffled by my snark and gestures to a stool. “My turn to play doctor?”
I swear that his eyes sparkle at that. My heart chooses at that moment to pound inside my chest, making me unable to meet his eyes. Where the hell did this flirty Darius come from?
I quickly shake my head. “No way, I’ll check myself out. Do you have a medical kit?” I draw the line at undressing in front of him. My legs in particular might be torn up under my slacks, but there’s no way I’m sitting in my underwear while he dabs at my wounds.
“Bathroom.” He points to the closet room next to the bedroom.
“What about you?” I say as I glance down. His stitches are a mess and blood from his old wound is already running down his leg. “Let me at least re-stitch you first.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“Doesn’t look fine.” In fact, it looks downright awful.
He shakes his head “I can handle it.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you sure?”
He nods. “Here.” He grabs a towel and hands it to me. “If you want to use the shower. Shout if you need anything.”
Then I let him usher me into the bathroom, closing the door.
I note there’s no lock as I quickly get undressed and rummage in his bathroom cabinet. I’m surprised at the considerable stock of medicines and painkillers he has given his adverse reaction to taking drugs. Then I notice that none of the bottles have ever been opened. Not a single seal is broken. Talk about paranoia.
I sit on the edge of the tub to check and treat my injuries. Luckily, since I was wearing slacks, the scratches and bruises are minimal. They don’t even hurt. It’s my ankle that’s worse. It’s slightly puffy though hurting less than it was. I wiggle it a few times and it smarts but nothing to cry home about. No permanent damage. A soak in the shower might help.
It takes me a minute to try to work out how to turn the shower on. Twisting all knobs seems to work and in no time at all, a cascade of hot water is easing the tension from my aching body.
It feels glorious.
As does the thought of Darius. Knowing he’s just next door, with nothing but a flimsy unlocked door between us, has my heart thudding in my ears. The walls are super thin, I can practically hear him moving about in the other room. At least he’s moving and not passed out from blood loss.
I believed him when he told me he could handle the stitching himself—I don’t doubt for a minute, Darius knows what to do.
Of course, he knows what to do…
At that wild and dark thought, I shiver. And as I wash my body, I imagine Darius’s hands running over me the same way. I could ask him to join me and then I won’t have to imagine it.
Such thoughts are the reason I keep getting into trouble. But why not? We’re adults and both single. I’m single at least…
Fucking hell, I need to focus on what just happened with that asshole who ambushed me, not my deepest, most intimate desires.
But now that I’ve been there, I can’t get the image of Darius’s naked, powerful, battle-ravaged body, all lathered up and dripping wet, next to mine. Memories of him looking at me like he wants to devour me has my hands sliding down my wet body, caressing, teasing. I give off a soft moan. In the back of my head, I know that if I can hear him, he can definitely hear me.
But I don’t care anymore. If this is the closest I can get to having Darius, it will have to do.
In my mind, I’m staring into his pale blues as he leans in, the heat of him dripping onto me as his lips find mine. Then, I’m tasting him under the water, imagining the feeling of his stubble against my neck as he plants hot kisses there and down my body. The thought of him, all aroused, wet, and solid, pressed up against me, sends shudders throughout my core as I imagine him, finally, sliding inside me beneath the torrents of the shower as the steam billows around us.
My hand has migrated lower without me even realizing. Slowly, I open up my thighs, quivering as heat gives way to the feeling of ecstasy, I slide my fingers to where I want to be touched. The hot water, enveloping my body in the way I want Darius to hold me, drowns out the nearly inaudible sound I can’t help but make.
Or maybe not.
A knock at the door startles me. “Are you alright in there?” Darius asks through the door.
Shit. He must have heard me.
I consider, for the briefest moment, inviting him in. Then I chicken out. This is Darius. My dad’s second and my brother’s best friend. Okay, not best friend, but they were close. He looked out for Dylan like he was a brother. And me his little sister. As much as I had a crush on him when I was a teenager, this is not how I imagined it would play out; Darius losing his memory, Dylan going missing, and me… pretending to be something I’m not.
I close my eyes. “I’m fine,” I say, it comes out a little breathless. After a few seconds, I hear him turn away from the door.
I want Darius. But what I want and what I need to do are very different things.
I turn the shower off and then dry myself. My skin tingles wherever the towel goes, and there’s a sensation that I might co
mbust at any second. In the steamed-up mirror, I can just about see that my eyes are bright. My face feels hot and between my legs there’s an ache I can’t ignore, I’m burning up inside from just thinking about the fighter in the next room. Fuck knows what would have happened if I had invited him in.
Deep inside, the regret and loss of him hurts.
I don’t have to miss him for too long though. As I open the door, wearing the spare sweats and t-shirt Darius found for me, he’s standing there in the doorway, dripping wet, entirely naked save for a towel wrapped around his waist. My eyes travel over his unexpected, utterly gorgeous body and my mouth opens. I go to say something, but nothing comes out.
At first.
Then…
“How did you…You’re wet?” Is all I manage to say.
“I took a shower at the gym when it became obvious you were going to be hours. Did you get what you needed?” he asks, eyes roving over me as they darken, changing from aqua to deep blue, a smug smile easing on to his face the entire time.
As all the bad thoughts I’ve been imagining come out to play, plaguing my mind, all my common sense goes out the window. The smell of him freshly showered washes over me like a cool summer breeze on a hot day, making my mouth water.
Screw it, I’m done with being good.
I lick my lips and as my eyes collide with his with such a molten heat, I know he must be done with it too.
I shake my head. “No, not all…” I croak, admiring his abs, seemly carved from myth and legend. “Maybe you can help me?”
Then I take a step forward without hobbling and pull up my t-shirt, letting it fall to the floor, all but daring him to drop his towel. He stares at me for a few seconds longer, like a beast starved, as the air in the cold room makes my nipples perk up and harden.
“You don’t want this,” he says finally, shaking his head. “You deserve better.”
What the fuck? Not what I was expecting.
“No one is better than you,” I say, meaning it. I take another step toward him, the desire inside making me bold.
“I won’t be the one to hurt you. You need to rest.”
“Oh, so you’re the doctor now?” I say, growing bolder. “Let me decide what hurts and what doesn’t.” Then I add playfully. “Maybe I like a little pain.”
His eyes widen, a low growl filling his throat.
Then he draws closer, so close I can feel the heat of his skin against mine.
“Don’t make me hurt you.” His voice is a caress, teasing me from the inside out.
“Don’t you want me?” I ask, trembling before him. He all but towers over me making me feel small.
“You know, I've wanted you ever since I first laid eyes on you,” he says, in a way that makes my insides knot.
I bet I’ve wanted you longer.
“Then come and get me.” I challenge him.
He shakes his head but offers me a sly smile as he does. “If you’re not afraid. You first.”
So, I reach for him, pulling off his towel at last. I’m not disappointed to see he’s huge and already rock hard. He tugs at the waistband of my sweats.
“Get on the bed.”
The submissive in me obeys, crawling on to it, enjoying the feel of the cotton sheets on my bare skin. He climbs on after me and flips me over. I groan as he tugs off my sweats, leaving me completely naked for him. Then he lowers his warm, partially wet, body over me so I can feel the hard length of him pressing against my core. Just like I imagined, but better.
His hot breath mingles with mine as he leans in and kisses me soft and hard, then deep, running his hands through my hair. His tongue slips inside my mouth, teasing my own, driving my sense wild as his lips flutter over my throat, teasing kisses slowly all the way down my neck.
This is what I’ve been craving my whole life.
“I want you,” I say, breaking the spell to look into his eyes.
He looks down at me, eyes fierce with a need matching my own. “You have me. Hold on to the bed and don’t let go until I tell you to.”
I do as he says, curling my fists around the cold iron of the bed frame. Then, as if in a dream, his sweet mouth finds my breasts. He takes one of my nipples in his mouth and rolls his tongue sensually over the bud, gently biting, pulling, and sucking until pleasure meets pain. All the while, his hands explore my shaking body, stroking lower and lower as my own fingers dig into his damp skin.
I close my eyes, letting everything dissolve away but him.
“Rae, you’re fucking beautiful. I’m going to taste every inch of you.”
Darius shifts on top of me, slowly working his way down my body again, trailing hot kisses as he goes. This time I watch him as he devours me, the heat of his breath burning me up inside. He pushes my legs apart and his fingers slide into the slick wetness hidden between my thighs, I can’t help but let out a moan.
“Fuck, you’re tight. Open for me, baby,” I hear him growl.
Obeying, I spread my legs and feel his fingers stretch and dip into me, deeper. The heat and sensation of him where my mind had him only moments ago, has me gasping for air, causing my entire body to tremble.
This man will be the death of me.
I’m not ready for his warm, wet tongue slipping inside, stroking me like a wave, pulling me beneath the surface. He teases me hard and all I know is the feel of Darius licking me out, tasting every inch of me. His touch ignites my soul, driving me to the edge of reason as the pleasure builds.
“I’m going to come,” I say, with my hands twisting round the cold metal.
And then a monsoon of pleasure rushes from the tips of my fingers to my toes. I feel the air leave my lungs as I cry out and goosebumps prickle across my skin. My body has become so light, so free.
Then his lips are on mine. I can’t help but give another soft moan as I taste myself on him—it makes me want him even more desperately than I already do. One orgasm is not enough. My body burns as he rubs his body over mine, crushing me with his weight as we kiss.
Fuck, I’m aching for him. I need him inside me now.
“Can I let go now?”
He smirks. “You can let go.”
I reach for him but all he does is lie down next to me, pulling me back into his embrace and nuzzling my neck so that he’s spooning me from behind.
“What about you?”
“Let’s leave it there. It’s been a crazy night,” he rumbles at me.
I say nothing because he doesn’t know me at all. I’ll just want him even more in the morning.
Trying not to sulk, I wriggle back into him so we’re as close as we can be. The way we’re molded together, I can feel his erection solid between us, intensifying my need for him. At least I know he still wants me.
“Where the fuck did you come from, Rae?” he half growls, half whispers into my skin, nipping me on the shoulder gently.
As sleep lulls me from all sides, I squeeze my eyes shut instead of answering him, the words I want to say resounding loudly in my head.
If only you remembered, Darius.
5
Darius
Light streams through the window, letting me know it’s morning.
As Rae lies there beside me, billows of her raven hair spills across the pillow like some magnificent crown, and I fight the urge to bury my face in thighs and tease her awake. But I don’t. Instead, I watch her sleep and dream. She snores a little, making me grin to myself like the fucking fool I am.
She didn’t answer me last night, but I know that I know her from somewhere.
After a few more minutes, I breathe deeply, stretching, and then sit up, running my fingers through my hair. I have the urge to piss, so I get up and go to the bathroom. When I come back into the main room, she’s still fast asleep in dreamland.
I glance at the clock. It’s getting late.
The Twins will be arriving soon, and Rae should not be in my apartment when they get here. If I am falling for her, entirely too fast and entirely too hard,
it’s better if they have no idea just how much. I grab my shorts off the chair and as I do her bag falls to the floor, its contents scattering everywhere. I bend to clean up, putting everything back in when I come across her ID. The picture of her on it is super cute, but that’s not what stops me. It’s a medical student ID, for this semester at some fancy ivy league university.
The name on the ID is Grace Hunter. Rae must be a shortened version of her first name. Hunter, though? Why does that seem familiar?
Sighing, I put it back in her bag and then sit back down on the bed, reaching out to place a hand upon her shoulder.
As I shake her awake, her eyes spring open and she smiles when she sees me, staring up at me with those astonishing blue-gray eyes. I so badly want to tunnel down beneath the sheets, spread her legs, and make her scream again. I’m getting hard just thinking about it.
I shake my head. She’s a fucking child, Darius. Get your dick under control and send her home.
I lean in and kiss those soft lips, breathing in the scent of her; essence of jasmine and peppermint. As the kiss deepens, I draw my fingers up through her hair and I cradle her head. She sighs as though content.
“You’re not one of us, are you?” I say, after we break the kiss.
She gives me an amused look and settles back, propping her head up by her elbow.
“What makes you say that?”
“You didn’t even try to defend yourself when you were being attacked, back there in the alley...”
She frowns. “What are you saying?”
I give another sigh. “I mean, you’re not used to these streets, hanging around the Twins. This isn’t you. Why are you here?”
“You know…” she starts then huffs, drawing her long black strands out of her eyes and letting them cascade down against the side of her angelic face. “You don’t own me. I can be here if I want to be.”
I raise an eyebrow at her, almost busting out with laughter. “Is that right? So, if you get attacked on the street again, you’re just going to lie down and fucking take it?”