Lust & Lies Box Set-Sexual Awakenings, Excess, Predator & Prey

by Kate Stewart

  Daniello cornered the counter and gripped my T-shirt, pulling me to him. “You are such a mood woman.”

  “Yes, yes I am.” I grinned. “And it’s moody.”

  “Bitch woman.” He grinned back.

  “It’s bitchy,” I smarted, resisting his pull and slapping at his greedy hands.

  “Stop correcting my English. I am aware I have not mastered it,” he scorned as he gathered more of the material of my shirt in his fist and I slid hesitantly toward him. If he filled my senses with his scent, I wasn’t sure I would be able to resist him, and my body needed a break. He’d fucked me to the brink of unconsciousness after our quiet dinner.

  “Why do you not just say what is on your mind, Taylor?”

  I turned my back to him and braced my hands on the counter, watching the coffee brew.

  “I will not beg you to tell me your mind.”

  I rolled my eyes at his statement. His English tutor should be shot. The man couldn’t even scold me without needing correction. It made it comical, but at four in the morning, it made me brave.

  “You threatened my life. I don’t think I’ll be able to get over that. I don’t think I want to. And I still don’t like you.”

  He gripped the back of my shirt, turning me to face him. His tight hold outlined my body, and my nipples peaked under his watchful eye. “Then it is a good thing I play so well with your body.” Heat invaded me as he leaned in, sucking my nipple through my T-shirt until it was painfully hard. Pulling out of his grip, I crossed my arms.

  Bowing his head, he let out a long breath.

  “You want apologies for words I mean when I say them. Do not let your curiosity about me get you killed, Taylor.”

  I took a step forward, my eyes as cold and steady as his. “And you would be the one to kill me?”

  “Would it ease your mind if I told you I would have no choice?”

  “I don’t know.” And I didn’t. The man stood in my living room weeks ago with enough DNA on him to convict him for life. Was I really that surprised he would do the same to me?

  “And if I end this now?”

  He scrubbed his face with his hand, agitated as he answered. “That is your choice. I will honor our agreement.”

  We stood facing each other in a silent standoff, the ever-present current passing between us.

  “What made you think I was the type of woman to deal with your life, your choices?”

  He smirked as he sandwiched me between him and the counter, his ready cock pressed against my leg.

  “Are you not?”

  He had no clue about my past. He couldn’t possibly. There was nothing about it to be found on any piece of paper or hidden in any database. I had no criminal record. The only people who knew about my past were me, Laz, and Cedric. If Daniello thought me a woman worthy of handling him, he’d drawn that conclusion on instinct alone. Maybe that’s why I was reluctant to let him go. He was more than capable of handling me sexually, and from what I’d gathered would probably think my corrupt past laughable.

  Still, I had no order. I couldn’t seem to make up my fucking mind when it came to him. There was nothing structured about indecision.

  And I knew without a shadow of a doubt that this decision could cost me my life. He’d admitted as much. It should have been a simple one, but half an hour later as he bent me over the bathroom sink and licked the inside of my thighs, I decided order could wait a little longer.

  After Daniello had licked my center raw and soothed it in the shower, I couldn’t help the distant voice that ran through my mind.

  “Stupid or hardheaded, Red, you can’t be both.”

  Weeks passed with no word from Daniello. I wanted to believe that he would keep his word and tell me when his departure would be his last, but the more time that passed, the more certain I was that I’d imagined his sincerity. Were women disposable to him? It seemed the case when it came to matters of business. And yet each time I was in his arms, surrounded by his warmth, and felt the passion behind his kiss, I felt completely worshiped.

  Suddenly, I was clouded by foreign feelings, the need to be close, to be wanted by him. Was I feeling for him or simply craving what his touch evoked?

  Falling in love with him would make me an absolute fool. I didn’t know if I was even capable anymore. Being addicted to his touch was just as dangerous due to the nature of our relationship. Obsessing over him had been a constant since the moment our eyes met.

  And I longed for those eyes, the light color of them that twinkled when he was amused, and the dark brown irises that greeted me with desire when he was hungry.

  My heart pounded each time I turned my key in the door and fell flat with a quick sweep of my empty condo.

  I hated everything about what I felt and yet I silently willed the new vicious cycle to end with an appearance, a whisper, one more moment, one touch, a kiss.

  I’d become possessed by a ghost, both in body and in mind.

  Another week passed as I remained a prisoner in my house, hoping for any sign of him and coming up empty.

  Hell had officially frozen over. I was living for a man.

  Disgusted with weakness, I’d made it a point to leave my condo every night the following week. I’d spent hours shopping for shit I didn’t need, tripling my workload, and exhausting my body with workouts to the point of passing out without a shower. I was doing the opposite of what I set out to do and simply went through the motions.

  Nina had noticed my change in behavior, taking me to lunch twice to ask what my hang up was. At the second Spanish Inquisition, I’d finally admitted I’d gotten involved with an overbearing, infuriating ass of a man with an oversized ego and a persuasive cock. It was the most I’d ever shared, which sickened me even more.

  “You sound like a woman in love to me,” she’d said with a shit-eating grin.

  “Not love, lust. Definitely just lust,” I said confidently as we both finished our plates. “I know hardly anything about him except that I lose myself in him so easily…” I drifted off as I tried to explain his effect, but was at a loss for words when it came to explaining how he made me feel. “The situation is all wrong. We…us together…we are all wrong, but I just want to know why he feels the need to be so damned—”

  “You are over-thinking this, Taylor, and dare I say, you sound kind of…needy.” She laughed loudly at my discomfort.

  “You’re right. I don’t want to hear it.”

  She straightened in her seat and ran a manicured nail down the side of her water glass. “Taylor, who taught you there was anything wrong with developing feelings for a man?”

  I gave her a straight face as I confessed the truth. “Every man I’ve ever developed feelings for.”

  She simply nodded as she averted her eyes, not pressing me further because she knew I wouldn’t go there.

  “Taylor, this relation—this thing sounds like a low maintenance relationship with no strings, no expectations, and incredible sex. Tell me again what the issue is, because from what I can tell, it’s perfectly suited to you.”

  And that was the bitch slap I needed to put the whole thing in perspective.

  No longer obsessed with Daniello’s motive for control over me in and out of bed, I kept my routine of perfect order. Once again comfortably alone at home washing dishes, I heard my phone vibrate as I worked suds into a coffee cup.

  “Taylor Ellison.”

  Silence on the other end had me about to hang up when I looked at the screen and felt the shock wave drift through my limbs. It was a Tennessee area code. I waited for words on the other end of the line with heavy breath.

  “Taylor…it’s…it’s me, Amber.”

  “Amber,” I repeated as I dropped the cup into the sink, hearing it break and staring at the broken pieces. Her voice was nowhere near what I was used to. It wasn’t the voice of the little girl I’d left or the soft-spoken teen that I’d had a conversation with through a bedroom window. It was the voice of a woman.

&nb
sp; “I…” A harsh sob escaped her. “I need your help.”

  Picking up the broken pieces of the cup, I nervously rushed through, “I’m here, Amber.”

  “It…I…it’s…”

  “What is it, Amber?” I pressed, “Talk to me.”

  “Hello, Red.” Gripping a broken piece of coffee cup, I felt it cut through my flesh. Cold sweat seeped out of my forehead as I addressed the voice I never thought I’d hear again.

  “Laz, don’t you fucking touch her!”

  “Me? Nah, wouldn’t hurt her for the world. She’s my girl, Red. I take really good care of her.”

  Blood pooled in my hand as I discarded the broken glass into the trash and braced myself on the counter, dread racing from the center of me throughout every limb, every nerve, and every fiber of my being.

  “Don’t hurt her, Laz. I’ll give you anything you want, just don’t hurt her.”

  “From what I gather, you have about a thirteen hour drive. I’ll be sure to have a welcome home party well underway. You remember the place, right?” I heard Amber shriek in the background.

  “Laz, please—”

  The line went dead as I stood dazed in my kitchen, my past barreling over me like a tidal wave. Grabbing a kitchen towel, I wrapped my bleeding hand and took a deep breath. The Laz I’d left was a criminal and unpredictable, but a large part of me knew then he didn’t want to harm me. Then. The last time I saw him, I’d left him crying and bleeding in a hotel room, begging me not to leave.

  What I was sure of was the man I’d just spoken to on the phone wanted nothing more than to hurt me. Now.

  And I predicted he would be more caustic than the ghost I fought in my head.

  Pushing down the terror that raced through me, I raced through my condo and pulled a bag from my closet, mindlessly shoved some clothes inside, grabbed some cash from my safe, then texted Nina.

  Me: I need a few days.

  Nina: It’s about damn time.

  Functionally numb, I pulled out onto the street, leaving the life I’d built to face the one I’d left behind.

  Adrenaline took the place of fear as I raced down the highway at neck breaking speed. Heavily armed and prepared to do whatever it took to resolve the situation, I pushed myself back to a mental state of ruthlessness that I hadn’t visited in years. The agony of not knowing what my sister faced fueled me as I thought of a thousand scenarios that Laz could come up with to punish me. My sister had finally given me the chance I’d been so desperate for, and I would not let her down. I hadn’t realized until I crossed the North Carolina border that I’d been seeking redemption. Connection and redemption were what I craved. My love and loyalty for my sister went beyond the simple reason of blood, but it was a selfish confirmation I needed from her. I wanted to prove to her and to myself, I’d done the right thing by leaving. Now that I had the means to help her in any situation, to get and keep her free of the life I had so purposefully abandoned, I could convince her to leave Dyer.

  She was all I’d ever really had.

  Laz, and later, Ray, had taken away both my innocence and faith in men. I refused to let anyone, especially Laz, take any more from me. If he wanted a fight, he had one coming his way.

  “Nora, the fucking anhydrous tank is short again! When I catch the fucking thief, I’ll put a goddamn bullet in his head!”

  I heard the shouting back and forth as my mother and father speculated on any one of their list of enemies stealing the precious liquid from their tank.

  For any common man, anhydrous was a fertilizer for farming. For meth dealers, it was an essential ingredient in the mix of the drug. All hell had broken loose in the last few months in the Ellison household due to a new supplier in town and the constant threat of my parents slowing traffic threatening to ruin their monopoly as the town’s best source for meth. They had gone from using meth to selling my father’s biggest cash crop one propane tank at a time. They’d started to make a substantial amount of money showboating around town in new cars and spending it on anything but the disrepair of the house and new clothes and proper nutrition for their children. I’d always blamed the majority of our despair on the fact that we had never had money. After a year of watching my parents live well while my sister and I still suffered, I had no choice but to accept they were simply monsters who had no place as parents.

  I stayed on constant high alert and remained silent and obedient in an attempt to keep my mother’s wrath at bay. My grades were soaring, and academically I was being recognized while going home felt brutal.

  Often times from our beds, Amber and I would hear gunfire in the distance, followed by the hasty retreat of our father’s car in the driveway. He was after the thief stealing the one cash crop that had ever brought him prosperity, and it had nothing to do with his dying fields.

  What my parents did not know was I was the one aiding in the thievery.

  It was my boyfriend who was doing the taking. And it was my boyfriend who my father now had to compete with for the sale of the drug. Laz had spent a few months out of juvie working with Cedric to tar roofs. Cedric had offered him a job with his father’s company, which he gladly accepted until he realized how “Shit pay would take forever to get us out of Dyer.” Cedric continually looked out for me, especially when Laz decided to start cooking and testing his product himself. He saw it as quick money, and I saw it as the death of us. Cedric had come to my window, warning me away from Laz, telling me that he’d changed since before juvie, telling me a few convincing secrets I knew Laz would kill him for.

  “You deserve better, Taylor. You deserve more,” he’d said as I shivered in the newly fallen snow. It was just after Christmas, but you couldn’t tell in my household. There had been no “fucking tree messing up our house,” no music, no laughter, no gifts. It had come and gone unnoticed, as it had every year.

  “He will come around, Cedric. He’s just trying to do right by me,” I defended.

  “You could come with me. As soon as I sign up, we could get housing.”

  “Wouldn’t I have to marry you for that?” I asked as he looked at me with that same wistful look I had before now mistaken. He stepped forward. “We could fake it.” It was then I knew he wouldn’t have been faking.

  “Cedric,” I offered as he took a step away. Rejection eating his features, he spoke up quickly. “It’s a way out, and I thought that is what you wanted. Mark my words, that guy doesn’t love you more than himself.”

  I could see the puff of my exhale as he walked away, the crunch of snow under his boots. I remember thinking he looked a little angelic in his white jacket and sweats among a blanket of snow.

  But his cruel words scarred me, as he didn’t come back after that night. And Laz remained my constant.

  We argued all the time, and though I knew I loved him, a part of that died the first time I saw his pale skin go clammy, his eyes dilate, and the warmth leave him in lieu of drug-induced paranoia.

  After the first month he used, I put down my ultimatum. “It’s meth or me.” Laz looked panicked as he glanced around the hotel room he’d taken up residence in just outside city limits. He still worked with Cedric during the day and stayed awake most nights cooking in different fields to make the “real” money. He was thinning quickly and looked sick. We’d spent nearly no time together since he’d declared me his girl. He claimed he was doing everything he could for us. I was still a prisoner at home and forced to be in by nightfall every day. Laz would pick me up around midnight each night and take me on his drug runs or to go gather supplies. Twice I’d shot my gun in defense while he drove recklessly through town. I’d missed purposefully, and Laz knew it, but we were quickly becoming known in the meth community as the Bonnie and Clyde of Dyer. Laz was shunned by his mother, and my parents seemed entirely oblivious as I lay low shortly after our brush with rival dealers. Ironically, the biggest rival of all were my meth addicted parents. I’d been cluing him in on when it was safe to go steal from my father, and my reward was to be dru
g around at all hours of the night, watching the boy I loved ruin his body, his mind, and our future. Like most nights, I watched in horror as he produced the drug that had ruined my life. At first, I had justified it as a means to an end, an escape route.

  It was all temporary.

  “I can’t watch this,” I cried as Laz weighed and bagged his new obsession with soulless eyes. “It’s me or meth, Laz. I can’t do this with you anymore. You know what this shit did to my family, to me!”

  “You. I pick you, Red. I’m sorry. I know better. I’m just trying to get us out of here.”

  “Look at me,” I pleaded. His blue eyes glanced up at me, and all I saw was his shame. “Please, we can find another way.”

  “Like what!” He stood, overwhelming anger caused by the drug rolling off of him in waves. “What’s your fucking plan, Red? I’d love to hear it. I have about four hundred saved after the car. We won’t last longer than a week or two. I want to give you a good life. We need a decent start. I want to get as far the fuck away from this place as possible, and we don’t have enough!”

  “Laz, don’t…” I stopped myself. There was no reasoning with meth. “Can you take me home? I have a test tomorrow.”

  Laz looked around the hotel and scratched the back of his neck anxiously. “Just let me bag the rest of this shit and we’ll go.”

  I nodded and sat at the table across from him and watched for three hours as he obsessed with his drug, weighing and reweighing while Sevendust’s “Black” stayed on repeat in the background. Laz made frequent trips to the bathroom to smoke, thinking I was naïve enough to believe he wasn’t. I’d grown up in it. I’d lived it long enough. When I’d finally had enough and Laz had hit the bathroom for the third time, I left the room without a word to him and started the fifteen mile walk back to my house. An hour later, Laz pulled up next to me just as I crossed the city limits.

  “Red, I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t care, Laz. Go back. I can walk.”

  “Get in the car. You have school in a few hours,” he barked.