Predator

by Michelle Heard

  When we walk back to the car, I feel drained.

  DAMIAN

  It’s been two weeks, and every day I take Cara outside and make her list something she sees, feels, and one of her body functions she’s grateful for. It’s a long process, but I can see the change.

  She comes out onto the porch, and I glance up at her. “You ready for our walk?”

  She doesn’t look at me as she nods. “Let’s go.”

  She takes the stairs down, and I notice that she has more energy. She hasn’t been taking any painkillers for the past few days, and she’s eating more.

  I catch up to her, and before I can say anything, she says, “I saw something yesterday. It’s this way.”

  I follow her deeper into the trees, and we walk for a while in silence before she points to something. “Over there.”

  I follow her until she stops and crouches down. There’s a bunch of dandelions. She plucks one and then blows at it, making the tiny seeds waft into the air. She plucks a few more from the ground and then stands up. She hands me one and then whispers, “When you blow it, you have to make a wish.”

  I watch her blow two more before she looks at me.

  I hold it in front of my mouth and slowly blow at the seeds. They float away, and all I can think is that I want her happy. I want to see her smile.

  Her lips twitch, and then she takes the stem from between my fingers. She tucks all four stems into her pocket and then starts to walk back to the cabin.

  Today was a huge step. She made a choice and did something she wanted to do. She did well.

  CARA

  At first, I got so angry and frustrated with Damian when he kept pestering me to go on walks with him, but not anymore. Now I enjoy them.

  It feels like years have passed since I lost my baby and Annie, but at the same time, it feels like it all happened yesterday.

  But at least I can feel the sun breaking through the clouds. It’s not so dark anymore.

  There are moments when I’m actually happy.

  I still don’t understand why all these bad things keep happening to me, but I hope that life will take a break from shitting on me. I just need a break.

  We’ve fallen into a routine where we take turns to cook. When it’s my turn, we either eat cup-o-noodles, or I microwave two frozen dinners for us.

  Every day Damian is busy around the cabin. He’s done quite a lot of repairs to the place. Yesterday he spent the whole day going over all the screws and making sure the place wouldn’t cave in on us.

  I open one of the cupboards in the kitchen and take out a cup so I can make myself some coffee. I close the cupboard door, and as I reach for the cup, the door suddenly comes loose. I try to catch it and the corner of the door slams into my left hand. I cry out as pain vibrates through my arm. The door falls to the floor, taking the cup with it. The cup shatters around my bare feet just as Damian comes into the kitchen.

  “Don’t move,” he says, and then he stalks over to me. He picks me up and carries me out of the kitchen. Only when we’re in the lounge does he place me back on my feet. He walks back into the kitchen, and I watch as he cleans up the shattered cup. He picks up the door and inspecting it, he mutters, “It needs new hinges and screws. Damn thing stripped right off. I’ll go get some and then check all the doors.”

  He places the door on the counter and then walks back to where I’m still standing. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” I look down at my left hand. “The thing just slammed into my hand, but it’s okay.”

  Damian takes my hand in both of his and inspects every inch of it. There’s a small blue bruise where the corner hit, and he brushes his thumb lightly over the tender spot.

  When his eyes lock on mine, I feel a fluttering in my abdomen. Scared of what it might mean, I pull my hand from his. “I’m just going to mop the floor, make sure we get all the glass.”

  I keep myself busy, cleaning the cabin from top to bottom. Damian got us the necessities, and I’m thankful that a washing machine was one of those things. He put up some washing line in the back where I can hang our clothes.

  I do the washing on Sunday mornings. The first few times I did it, I quickly became aware that there was no underwear for Damian. At first, I thought he washed it himself, but when packing the clothes away, I realized that he goes commando.

  I can’t stop thinking that Damian doesn’t wear anything under his jeans or slacks.

  The last time he went shopping he took me with him, and I got a few more items of clothing. We’re slowly making this cabin home. We have everything we need, and that’s all that matters.

  It’s not Sunday, but I wash our few items of clothing along with the towels.

  When I walk back in from hanging the clothes to dry, I walk right into Damian.

  I bounce back and mumble, “Sorry.”

  “I’m just going to the hardware to get some things. You need anything?”

  You.

  The word vibrates through me, and like a deaf-mute, I can only shake my head. The second he leaves, I slap my hand over my mouth.

  What. The. Fuck?

  I did not just think that. Yes, Damian is crazy hot, but I’m so not ready. Besides … how can you want something you fear?

  I’m not scared of Damian, not at all. I’m scared of intimacy. I’ve been ruined when it comes to that department.

  I brush a hand through my hair, feeling all hot and bothered.

  I decide to take a cold shower, certain that the water will wash some sense into me.

  I strip out of the clothes and only open the cold faucet. I step under the water and let it wash over me, but it’s doing nothing to smother the unwelcome lust and heat I feel for Damian.

  I grab the washcloth, and I start to wash my body. I’m so freaking horny that when my hand slips between my legs, my hips jerk in search of more friction.

  I’ve given myself an orgasm before, but this time it’s different. The other times the guy was always faceless, and to be honest, I haven’t masturbated since I was raped. But this time it’s Damian’s eyes I see.

  I feel his rock hard body brush against mine. I feel his fingers brush over my jaw, down my neck. I trail my fingers over my breast imagining that it’s his fingers making their way down to the sensitive spot between my legs.

  I start to rub the washcloth faster, and as I picture his mouth, curving into a slow smile, I come.

  Instantly my mind clears of the lust induced state it was stuck in. “Fuck, Cara!” I snap at myself. “You have to live with the guy. You can’t masturbate like a pervert. Get control over yourself.”

  I turn the faucet off and quickly dry myself. I get back into my clothes and then check my face in the mirror. Shit, my cheeks are flushed, and there’s a damn sparkle in my eye. I’m so busted.

  DAMIAN

  Cara’s been weird around me. She hardly makes eye contact. She almost seems shy, which I don’t understand.

  I walk out onto the porch and search the surrounding area. She went for a walk quite a while ago.

  I start to walk in the direction I saw her heading in. After a while, the trees start to thin out, and about ten minutes later, I reach the beach.

  I scan the stretch of sand until I see her lone figure, sitting with her knees drawn up against her chest.

  I slowly make my way over to her, and when I’m close, I stop and just watch her. She’s staring out over the ocean, and then a sigh escapes her lips. She gets up, dusts some sand from her ass and then turns around. When her eyes fall on me, shock registers on her face.

  “How long have you been standing there?” she asks, dropping her eyes to the sand.

  I walk right up to her, and taking hold of her chin, I lift her face to mine. I wait for her eyes to meet mine before I say, “What’s going on? I get the feeling you’re hiding from me?”

  She pulls her chin from my fingers and looks back out over the ocean. “Remember you told me not to ask you questions unless you were prepared to hear t
he truth?”

  “Yeah,” I whisper, my eyes constantly searching her face. She’s been doing so well, I don’t want a relapse.

  “The same counts for you, Damian. Don’t ask me something unless you’re sure you can handle the truth.”

  She starts to walk away, but I grab hold of her hand and hold her back. “What’s that supposed to mean? You can’t tell me why you’re acting so weird around me?”

  She looks at our joined hands, and then her eyes slowly drift up the length of my body until they rest on my eyes.

  She clears her throat and then squares her shoulders, raising her chin an inch. “I’ll make you a deal, Damian. I’ll answer that question if you answer one of mine.”

  I look for any sign of what might be going on in that head of hers, and then I whisper, “Deal.”

  She nods and takes a step closer to me. She looks up at me, her eyes dancing over my face. “I’m confused about us.” She nervously licks at her lips and then drops her eyes to my chest. “I… I feel something for you, and I don’t know what to do with it. I’m scared to death of it. I don’t understand how I can feel attracted to you after what happened. Any other man …” she shakes her head slowly and lifts her eyes back to mine, “I’m repulsed by any other man. I mean, I hate them with this burning rage that keeps flowing through me like lava. I just…” she drops her eyes again and then whispers, “I don’t understand why… why I’m feeling this way.”

  Her shoulders slump, and I watch as she sucks in a deep breath. This… whatever it is that’s happening between us is scaring the living hell out of her.

  I pull her closer and slip my arms around her. At first, she tenses and tries to pull back, mumbling, “I don’t need your pity.”

  I pull her back against me and lock her in my arms. I place a kiss to the side of her head and another just above her ear, and then I whisper, “I’m not sure what’s happening between us, and I understand that you’re scared.”

  I pull back slightly, and, keeping one arm around her, I use my other hand to brush her hair away from her face. She peeks up at me, and I smile, trying to set her at ease. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Cara. Any man with warm blood pumping through his veins would be crazy not to want you.” I see panic flare in her eyes at the mention of other men. “Maybe you’re okay with me because I was the one who helped you, and if that’s the case, we’ll just let the feelings pass. Feeling grateful is not a reason to want someone, and we’d be stupid to act on it.”

  She turns her face away from me, and I can see hurt flash over her face. She thinks I’m rejecting her. Fuck, this is hard. I just want to do what’s right by her.

  “If you really feel something for me then only time will tell, Cara. It’s not something we can force or make disappear. We just have to let whatever’s meant to be happen.”

  She nods, still looking dejected. I brush my fingers over the curve of her cheek, and her eyes jump to mine. “I’ll understand if you don’t want me,” she squeezes the words out. Tears brim in her eyes, making them sparkle in the morning sun. “I mean… it’s okay. I just wanted to tell you how I feel so you don’t think I’m psycho.”

  “Why would you think I won’t want you?” I move closer until our bodies brush. I watch her cheeks grow pink, and it stirs something inside of me.

  “Because of what happened,” she whispers. “Because a man like you wouldn’t want something that’s been used.”

  A hot flare of anger surges through me. “That’s what you’ve been thinking?”

  “It’s okay,” she whispers again, and this time, a tear sneaks down her cheek.

  I frame her face with my hands so she can’t look away and I press my forehead to hers. “Don’t think that, Cara. You’re not used. Fuck.” I pull slightly back and lock eyes with her. “Don’t let them make you feel worthless, because you’re fucking priceless.”

  She’s so beautiful as her eyes light up and a slow smile pulls at her lips. “You think I’m priceless?” she whispers.

  “I risked my life twice for you, Cara. I’ll keep risking my life until I die if it means I can keep you safe because you are priceless.” She brings her hands to my chest and then slides them up to my shoulders. She lifts herself to the tip of her toes and then presses a soft kiss to my lips.

  For a moment I stand still and just as she’s about to pull back, I can’t fight it anymore. I slip my hand around the back of her neck and pull her closer. I tilt my head and brush my tongue against the seam of her lips. Her lips part and a breath she’s been holding escapes. I let my tongue slip into her mouth, and then everything around us fades to background noise.

  I brush my tongue over hers, and her body leans heavier into mine. Her fingers weave into my hair and then a soft moan drifts into my mouth. I want to devour it, devour her … but holding onto my last bit of common sense, I slowly pull back. I press one last kiss to her wet lips and then whisper, “Be careful what you ask of me. I fuck the way I kill – hard and fast.”

  I expect her to flinch away from the harsh words but instead heat flares in her eyes, and it almost makes me take her right here in the open.

  CARA

  I’m having a sensory overload. I can still taste him and, shit, he tastes like sex. I can still smell him, and just that alone is enough to make me want to drag him down to the ground.

  I take a step closer to him, but then he takes one backward… away from me. He shakes his head, and it confuses me because I can see the lust in his eyes. Am I reading him wrong?

  “Don’t fuck with me,” he growls. But that’s just it! I want to fuck him so badly, my insides quiver at the thought.

  He groans and then moves fast. His one hand slips behind my neck again, and he pulls me right up against him. Instead of kissing me, he hisses, “I want you so fucking bad, Cara, but we can’t.”

  I feel his hard-on pressing against my stomach, and it makes fear bleed into my soul.

  “See, you’re not ready. You still have so much healing to do. The day we fuck, you’ll want it as much as I do.”

  Frustration washes over me, dousing the heat that was flowing through my veins. I want Damian. I mean, who wouldn’t want him? He’s all man, hard and rough, and… those eyes. I let my eyes caress his face, taking in the rugged beauty of the man in front of me.

  I’m not sure my want for him is stronger than my fear of being intimate again. He’s right.

  “You had a question,” he says, taking a step away from me.

  “Yeah, I did.” I clear my throat, tucking my hair behind my ears. I start to walk back to the cabin. “I was wondering, since you’re Alex Jackson now, is Damian Weston your real name or just another alias?”

  He walks next to me, and for a moment I wonder if he’s actually going to answer me, but then he starts to talk. “After Leah died, and I killed my father, I had to disappear. Jeff is retired FBI and Leah’s father. I did him a favor by taking out my dad, so he did me one by getting me a new identity. The only reason I’ve been able to get away with my job as a cleaner is because of Jeff. He just keeps covering our tracks. It’s weird because he didn’t like the fact that Leah and I were dating. He didn’t trust me one bit. But after she died and I killed my father, he stepped right in to help me.” He glances at me and then says, “I was Sam Rees, but that person died a long time ago.”

  Sam Rees.

  Such a normal name for such an extraordinary man.

  I stop and reach my hand out to him. “Hi, Sam.”

  He takes my hand and smiles as he whispers, “Hi, Cara.”

  CHAPTER 17

  DAMIAN

  Since our kiss on the beach, it’s been getting harder every day. Keeping my hands off her is fucking hard.

  Everything is harder.

  And then there’s the constant semi I’m walking around with. I’ve been waking up with a raging hard-on every morning since the kiss. And just like every other morning I grab clean clothes and go to the shower.

  The first two days, I felt guilty
for picturing Cara while I jerked off, but not anymore. I open the faucets, strip the slacks from my body, and step into the bath. I grip my cock hard and bring up the image of Cara’s breasts and pussy that’s been fucking engraved in my mind since I bathed her.

  I imagine taking bites of her soft flesh, and when I let myself picture how I want to slam my cock inside her, my hips start to jerk, and I come hard.

  Not even five fucking minutes and I come like a teenager!

  I quickly wash, dry, and get dressed.

  Yeah, my morning routine now revolves around jerking off to the image of Cara’s tits and pussy. I’m so fucked.

  When I come out of the bathroom, I hear her in the kitchen. When I see her ass in those tight slacks, I keep a safe distance. I’ll fuck her right through those pants, that’s how badly I crave her.

  “I advertised in the local newspaper,” I say, my voice gruff with unadulterated lust. “I need to keep busy, so I’m going to do odd jobs, helping people repair whatever they need fixed.”

  She takes a sip of coffee and then smiles over the cup. “Always the fixer.”

  “Yeah.” I force a smile to my face. “I have a job today. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

  She places the cup on the counter and walks closer to me. “Does that mean I can go look for a job too?”

  “Sure,” I say, and my voice goes all gruff again as she moves into my personal space. “Just remember to go by Nina Jackson. If we’re going into town more, we’re going to have to start calling each other Alex and Nina.”

  “Sure, Alex,” she says, and a smile plays along her lips which makes me stare at her mouth for a moment too long. “Are you leaving now?”