Darker: The Inquirer

by M. S. Parker

  How the hell was I supposed to think when he smelled so damn good?

  He came close enough for me to feel the heat of him, so different from the heavy, humid warmth of an early October night in Georgia. His eyes met mine, and I couldn’t look away. I was frozen in place, desperately wanting him to touch me, even though another part of me never wanted him this close to me again.

  He raised his hand and pushed some hair back from my face, his fingertips practically singeing me. For two long seconds, I thought he’d kiss me, and I knew I’d let him. If he kissed me, I’d be lost. We’d end up in one of our cabins, tearing each other’s clothes off. No matter how much my body wanted that to happen, my head insisted that it’d be the worst idea in the history of worst ideas.

  “Which is it, little firebird? I think we both know which one is more fun.” He bent his head down so that his mouth was next to my ear, his voice rumbling through my body and setting me on fire. “I could bend you right over that porch railing and have you screamin’ my name in no time. Or you could ride me into oblivion, squeeze my prick in that tight cunt of yours until we’re both cross-eyed and can’t walk straight.”

  I let out a shaky breath. Fuck.

  He straightened. “I think I can trust you to get into bed without any help. Good night, ma’am.”

  I stared at him, jaw hanging open, not really believing he would leave me here like this…until he disappeared into his cabin and shut the door behind him.

  Motherfucking bastard.

  Five

  Bradyn

  Congratulations, Bradyn, I thought as I entered my cabin and closed the door behind me. You’ve managed to completely let your dick take over.

  That wasn’t entirely true. If my cock’d had its way, it would’ve been buried deep inside Nyx already. That would’ve been bad for numerous reasons, not the least of which was because she was drunk.

  After her friend’s wedding, she’d been a little tipsy, but I hadn’t doubted her ability to consent. Tonight though…I wasn’t so sure. She’d been damn lucky Isaac had been there to bring her back. If she’d met a guy like that prick at the hotel bar the first night she arrived here, I wasn’t sure things would’ve turned out the way they had.

  I might not trust her anymore, but I wouldn’t wish harm on her, especially not that. A man would have to be a special kind of bastard to think that way.

  I walked over to the window and looked outside, careful not to move the curtains. I wanted to make sure she went into her cabin rather than wandering around in the dark, but I didn’t want her to know I was checking up on her. She’d be even more furious at me, and that would be one more thing to deal with in the morning.

  Fortunately, she was already on the porch. Even though I wasn’t at an angle where I could see her actually go into her cabin, the fact that she didn’t come back down off the porch made me think she was safely inside. At least with no other guests here right now, I didn’t have to worry if she’d locked her door.

  It was a good thing we hadn’t ended up in a relationship. I would’ve wanted to throttle her for putting herself in danger the way she had. I knew she was a grown woman and all that, but it didn’t stop me from worrying about something happening to her.

  I wasn’t one of those men who thought women ‘asked for it’ or that type of bullshit, but the world sucked. That meant that people needed to take precautions that wouldn’t have been necessary if everyone just treated others decently.

  My mom had always called those opinions my ‘wide-eyed dreamer way of thinking.’ My father hadn’t been nearly that polite. Naïve had probably been the nicest thing he’d called me.

  None of my family had ever understood how I could look for the positive in things but still understand how the real world worked. I wasn’t some Pollyanna who thought life was rainbows and lemon drops, but I did think it was possible for people to be good to each other if they just tried. I believed in could, but not necessarily would.

  I sighed and stepped away from the window. The last few years had been tough on that way of thinking, and I’d felt myself getting more and more jaded. All of this stuff with Nyx wasn’t helping matters. I’d admired her for how she refused to let her past define her, and then I’d learned that everything she’d said might have been a lie.

  And I hated myself for thinking it.

  “Should’ve just stayed in bed.” Adding a few choice curses, I went into the bathroom to wipe off my feet before crawling between my sheets.

  I usually didn’t have problems falling asleep, even on days where I hadn’t been doing a lot of physical work. I was just one of those people who could close my eyes, decide I wanted to sleep, and a few minutes later, I was out.

  Except that wasn’t happening tonight. In fact, it hadn’t been happening all week, not since Nyx had left my hotel room in New York. Every night was the same. I’d lay in bed with my eyes closed, and my mind would replay every moment I’d spent with her.

  Sometimes, it was a highlight reel of all the best stuff, and other times it was her panic attacks and nightmare, then her telling me what had happened to her. Other times, it was just that last morning together, me overhearing her, the accusations we’d both made.

  No matter what I did, until I finally managed to fall asleep, she was in my head.

  Tonight was no different.

  Well, a little different since my surprise visitor earlier had dredged up other memories and feelings that now mixed with all my confusion over Nyx.

  From the time I’d been old enough to disagree with my family – for real reasons, not teenage nonsense – I’d had to deal with the conflict that came from loving people I didn’t always like or agree with.

  When I’d caught Antoinette with my father, I’d learned that I had a point where even love wasn’t enough. Not romantic love, or familial love. I’d ended things with Antoinette before she’d even finished getting dressed. My confrontation with my father had taken longer, but it’d ended up with the same results.

  I never wanted to see either of them again.

  I was cordial to my mother and sister, but they’d both been furious with me for refusing to have anything to do with my father, even after the story had come out about the affair. I suspected they’d actually known about it before then, but I’d never asked them to choose between Dad and me.

  I’d half-expected Mom to leave him once the affair had been made public knowledge, but it hadn’t really surprised me that she hadn’t. Still, we’d managed to stay friendly until I’d released my documentary on Deacon Miller. That had been the last straw, and I’d been completely disinherited. Mom and Ashley had fallen in line then too. Even last year’s Christmas and birthday presents had been returned unopened.

  I didn’t know if I’d ever have a relationship with any of them ever again, but if they’d made the effort, I liked to think I’d at least give it a chance. Even with Dad.

  Maybe.

  Antoinette was a different story.

  I hadn’t believed my father’s version of events where she’d pursued him until, in a moment of weakness, he’d given in. They’d been sleeping together for six months.

  I also didn’t believe either of Antoinette’s stories. Not the one she’d told me about how they’d fallen in love and had tried to fight it, or the one she’d anonymously told the press about my father using his power to make her feel like she hadn’t had a choice. What I knew of the both of them told me that they’d both pursued each other for their own personal gain, and it’d blown up in their faces.

  None of this would’ve mattered at all if she hadn’t sneaked into my home this afternoon.

  Just thinking about it pissed me off again.

  I liked to think of myself as a fairly laid-back person. I could get intense about things from time to time, but I wasn’t a guy who flew off the handle at the drop of a hat.

  Overusing idioms was a sure sign of how tired and frustrated I was.

  I hadn’t asked Antoinette why she’d been i
n my bed; I’d just told her to get out. She’d still been trying to talk when I’d thrown her clothes at her, telling her if she didn’t get dressed, I’d throw her out naked. She hadn’t believed me, but I’d been ready to do it. I was a gentleman, but even a gentleman had his limits.

  The thing that bothered me now was that Antoinette’s stunt had led to Nyx getting drunk and kissing Isaac. I wanted it to be because Nyx had put herself into a vulnerable position and then could’ve caused issues with the Huxleys, but that wasn’t the reason I was gritting my teeth in the dark.

  I didn’t like that Nyx had thought I’d been with another woman so soon after she and I had argued. Hell, I still wasn’t sure if I should think of it as a break-up or something else. What something, I didn’t know. We’d never defined what we were, but we’d said we weren’t going to fuck or flirt with anyone else while she and I were…well, whatever we’d been.

  Even though she and I might not be that whatever anymore, until I knew for sure that something was over, I wouldn’t act on anything. But just because that was how I was didn’t mean that was how Nyx was. She had kissed Isaac, after all.

  Unless the reason she’d kissed him had been because she was jealous and hurt, thinking that I’d already been having sex with the fucking naked woman she’d managed to find in my fucking cabin.

  I groaned and pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes hard enough to make sparks on the backs of my eyelids. I just wanted to sleep. No more thinking about how awful this week had been or how much I still wanted Nyx.

  No more picturing how she looked underneath me. The weight of her breasts in my hands. No remembering how soft and heavy her hair was, the way it was just the right length for me to hold when I took her from behind.

  I hadn’t even been tempted by Antoinette’s body, even though it was just as nice as it had been back when we were together. She didn’t look any different, honestly, and a physical attraction to her wouldn’t have been surprising.

  But I hadn’t been interested. Not just uninterested in having sex with her, but uninterested in even looking in her direction.

  Maybe I was wired differently from a lot of guys, but I’d never been able to separate a woman’s physical attractiveness from her character. I could find a woman hot even if her personality didn’t appeal to me, but if the most beautiful woman in the world was cruel or manipulative or arrogant, I couldn’t see past those things.

  Why was Nyx different?

  I didn’t know the whole story of why Nyx had really come to Savannah, but she’d been hiding things. She’d used me like Antoinette had. Why had I been able to ignore my ex’s body, but being anywhere near Nyx, no matter what she was wearing, made me want to touch her?

  Not just touch her, but protect her. I didn’t know how much of what she’d told me was actually the truth, but it didn’t change the way I felt.

  Was it that I didn’t want to believe that someone could lie about something as horrible as their stepfather abusing them for two years? But I knew people did just that. I tended to believe that the majority were true, and all of those sorts of accusations should be investigated thoroughly.

  Could it be that I simply wanted to believe something about her to be true? Would I excuse her deceit about why she was in Savannah if she’d been honest about the rest?

  I tossed off the sheet and went into the bathroom. Maybe a shower would help me relax.

  For a couple minutes, I thought it would work, but then she started creeping into my thoughts again. Except my thoughts decided to veer off from memories and into fantasy territory.

  She stepped under the spray, her hair darkening to an almost mahogany shade. It stuck to her skin, the water molding it to shoulders and breasts. Her nipples were tight little nubs of pale pink, just begging for my mouth. My gaze followed a trickle of water between her breasts and down to her belly button. Her hand moved between her legs, fingers spreading herself open, moving over slick skin.

  I wrapped my hand around my cock almost without thinking about it. The memory of what she looked like naked was always enough to get my blood flowing. I’d managed to avoid this all week, making my showers cold enough to stop any erection in no time at all. If I cut the hot water right now, I could do the same as I’d done before, but I’d never get to sleep that way. A cold shower would kill the possibility of sleep as quickly as it would my hard-on.

  And, if I was being honest – if I couldn’t be honest with myself while jacking off in the shower, when could I be honest? – I didn’t want to stop. Maybe that made me a creep, but I felt like I’d been stretched too thin, frayed to the point of snapping.

  “Do you want me to help with that?” Her voice was soft.

  “No,” I said as I moved my hand up and down with leisurely strokes. “I want to watch you get yourself off.”

  Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, and her eyes fluttered closed. I didn’t know where I wanted to look. Or, rather, there were too many places I wanted to look.

  A finger and thumb pulling and rolling a nipple.

  Two fingers making circles over her clit.

  The muscles in her stomach tensing and releasing.

  Flush stealing across her cheeks and chest.

  Eyelids fluttering.

  I closed my eyes, focusing on the image of Nyx in my mind. On what she looked like when she was flying toward climax. My hand moved faster, the pressure in me building, coiling.

  Little whimpers fell from her mouth, the sweet sounds mixing with the noise of water, of the slip and slide of flesh against flesh. I loved hearing her let go like that, listening to her when she allowed herself to simply be in the moment.

  “Come for me, firebird.” The command came out as a growl.

  “Yes…” she gasped. “Yes. Yes. Yes!”

  She wailed the last word, and…

  I came with a guttural sound, my hand tightening as my body seized, the subtle pain boosting the pleasure coursing through me. I leaned forward, resting my forehead on the shower wall as I waited to come down.

  Maybe I could finally get some sleep now.

  Six

  Nyx

  I. Wanted. To. Die.

  Not really, but it definitely felt like death would be a good idea right about now.

  It wasn’t the worst hangover I’d ever had, but it wasn’t a walk in the park either. My stomach rolled and churned like I’d eaten something rotten. My head pounded, and my mouth felt like someone had shit cotton balls in it.

  My tact was also not working well at the moment.

  Someone knocked on the door, and I groaned. Considering they’d just tapped on it, I was guessing Isaac or Bradyn since they both knew that I’d been drinking last night.

  Shit.

  I needed to do serious damage control with Isaac – and the rest of the Huxleys if he’d told his parents about what’d happened.

  “Nyx, wake up. It’s ten-thirty in the morning.”

  Bradyn.

  “Just a minute.” I winced but managed to get out of bed and make it to the bathroom.

  I must’ve showered last night because I didn’t stink, which was a good thing, but one look in the mirror said I hadn’t bothered to do anything with my hair after I’d gotten out. Not even brush it.

  I looked like something out of a Tim Burton movie.

  I managed to work out most of the tangles and get my hair into a braid that looked more or less neat.

  I’d also forgotten to put on clothes after getting out of the shower last night, so I fixed that too. My t-shirt didn’t match the shorts I grabbed, but I wasn’t really worried about that.

  “What do you want?” I snapped as I opened the door.

  Bradyn held up a thermos and a basket. For a moment, I thought he was going to take me on a picnic again, and my stomach flipped in a way that had nothing to do with how much I’d had to drink last night.

  “Hangover helper.” His expression was flat. “We need to talk.”

  Talk. Right.

&nb
sp; I walked back into the cabin and let him take care of the door behind me. He set things down on the table while I got a bottle of water and some aspirin. He might have something that would help too, but I could handle a hangover myself.

  “That’ll go perfect with this.” He pushed the thermos toward me and motioned to the basket.

  I took a long swallow of whatever was in the thermos, grimacing at the taste. It wasn’t the worst thing I’d ever had to drink, but it wouldn’t be winning any awards for taste either. Still, I took another drink. Kaimi’s hangover cures had always tasted like sweaty feet, but they’d worked.

  “I’ll give you a few minutes, and then we should talk before the Huxleys get home from church. It’ll make things easier.”

  “Easier?” I didn’t like what he was implying, and if he told me to calm down, things would get ugly.

  “I refuse to let you hurt them,” he said, crossing his arms. “They don’t need to know that you’ve been using them to get to me.”

  “Get to you?” I considered throwing whatever was in the thermos at him, but it was working on my headache already. “Why the hell would I want to get to you?”

  “You tell me.”

  I glared at him. “I would tell you if I knew what the fuck you were talking about.”

  “Stop with the games, Nyx, all right? I know my parents hired you.”

  I stared at him. His parents? He thought his parents had hired me for some reason? I shook my head. Too much drama. This was another reason I didn’t date. Everything just got complicated when it went beyond simple fucking.

  “If you had your head any farther up your ass, you’d be a medical miracle.” I rubbed my forehead. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Then tell me.” He spread his arms wide. “Tell me why you’re here and who hired you. If I’m wrong, you should be able to prove it.”