“Well,” Audra begins, sitting down cross-legged on the ground. Her pussy becomes the elephant in the room, and I can't seem to stop staring. I can tell she knows it, too, and I scowl at her. “I'm not sure. I mean, I didn't intend to kill Mark. It just … happened.”
“The darkness,” I say, not in the mood to explain any further. The wet red curls between her legs send a flurry of testosterone through my body, and I dig faster. Audra sighs, exhaustion evident in her shuddering intake of breath. She uncrosses her legs and straightens them, leaning forward and running her fingers down her bare calves until she's touching her ankles.
“Is that what you call it?” she asks, and I get the strong impression she's finally starting to understand what I'm all about. “This … insatiable urge to just … I don't know … ” Audra moans and leans back, lying flat on the ground. I've never seen a woman who behaves like she does, and I'm not sure what to make of it. Dangerous, Lucas. She's incredibly dangerous. My dick remains rigid in my slacks.
“It's hard to describe, isn't it?” I ask, examining the width and length of the hole. That's about right. Now, the difficult part is digging it deep enough to keep the corpse contained. Two feet would be preferable, if I can manage. I may have to settle for eighteen inches. “Demons, darkness, blackness, beasts. Call it whatever you want, but you know exactly what I'm talking about. It's this very essence that makes us different from everyone else.”
“But you can control it?” Audra asks, and I hate how skeptical her voice sounds. I haven't been doing a very good job of controlling the beast when I'm around her. I wonder if I should tell her that? But no. There's no reason to give her more power over me. Unfortunately, I'm going to have to simply prove what I know to be true.
“I can, and I can help you control it as well.” I stick the shovel in the dirt and wipe a hand across my face. I try not to look at the sweat on my knuckles. Filthy. I can barely stand the idea of dirt under my fingernails. “Did you think I was being poetic when I told you I can turn this feeling, this darkness, into something magical? Something you relish instead of despise?”
“Who says I despise it?” Audra whispers, and my own skin breaks out in goose bumps. She sits up on her elbows and looks at me. I let her gaze catch mine but only for a second before I pick up the shovel and start digging again. All around us, the birds are coming back to life, sensing the temporary retreat of the beast. Their songs annoy me, full of cheer and simplicity, echoes of lives too base to understand the complexities of my thoughts. “Do you teach people to get rid of it, too?”
“It depends,” I say as a shaft of yellow light cuts across my hole. Fucking sun. “For some people, I can help them tease it out, let it burn in the light. I absorb their pain. At least temporarily. I'm not entirely convinced that it'll stay gone forever. Some demons are born and others are made. It's always possible to acquire new ones.”
“Why absorb it?” Audra asks, her question hitting me like a ton of bricks. For the umpteenth time I'm being forced to recall memories I don't want to relive. “Why would you want anymore of this inside of you?” She sits up all the way and spreads her fingers wide. “It's hard enough to control what's already there.”
“My demon is permanent. He can't be fought off or burnt away. I'll always know why he's there and what price I paid for him. I may as well absorb the darkness from others. Why not?” I look up at Audra and smile wickedly, letting the beast's voice ooze from my lips. “After all, I've found a way to enjoy what I am. Sex. Violence. Both. I like it, and I've learned how to live with it. It's easier than learning to live without her.” I freeze, my entire body going stiff. Audra's kelp green eyes stay focused on mine, trying to bore into my skull with laser focus. But no. No. Nobody gets to hear about Aliyah. Her memory is mine and mine alone. “Take the car back to the house, go inside and up the stairs. The room where Mrs. Braxton better damn well be is to the right, down the hallway and inside a hideous gilded gold door with cherubs engraved on the surface.” My mouth curls. “Entertain her for me while I finish up here.”
“You want me to touch her?” she asks, and I can hear the repulsion in her voice. My angry mouth curls up into a smirk, the smooth wood of the shovel gripped tight in my hands as I try my best not to laugh again. It wouldn't be a nice one this time, just a cynical burst of malign glee.
“You're the one that wanted to get paid,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the swish and crush of the dirt. “So get up there and earn it. What's the matter? You don't like girls?”
“More like, I don't care for fake tans and faker tits.” Audra pauses. “I'm not a whore.”
“Neither am I.”
“Fine. How much does she usually pay?” When I tell Audra the ridiculously inflated price I charge Mrs. Braxton, her eyebrows rise up in surprise.
“You can slap her around, call her names, burn hot candle wax onto her body. I don't care. Her safety word is 'cherubic'.” I try my best not to roll my eyes. I always let my clients pick their own safety words, even if I disapprove of them. There has to be some way to reign the beast in when he's gone wild. If I haven't heard that word, I don't have to worry if I've gone too far. There is no such thing as going too far if my clients don't say the word. It has to belong to them. “Just get up there and keep her from finding out we've buried your murder victim in her backyard.”
With Mark's body laid to rest, I hike the gravel pathway back to the house, my hands twitching with the barely suppressed desire to leap into one of the Braxton's many showers. I have work to do here. I need to get it done and leave, go home and recoup my strength, my self-control. I need to figure out what exactly I'm going to be doing with Audra Holiday, with Mrs. Braxton. With Robbie fucking Carrell. I push the girl from my mind as I climb the stairs, pleased to see that the gilded mirror in the foyer is still broken from my last visit.
I hear the moans before I even enter the room.
The hideous gilded door swings inward easily as I step onto the tiled floors of Mrs. Braxton's favorite bedroom, my eyes immediately drawn to the four poster bed that sits on the opposite wall. Clarice is lying on her back, hands and feet cuffed to the posts of the bed so that she's lying spread-eagled, her ripe pussy swollen and plump between her thighs. It's her moans that I was hearing, desperate and dangerously close to screams.
“Lucas!” she shouts, struggling to sit up enough to look at me. Unfortunately for her, the restraints don't allow much movement. I glance around the room and can't find Audra Holiday anywhere. My mouth twitches. “Fuck me, please! I'll say whatever dirty things you want! Screw me. Bang me. I don't care. I need it so bad, so damn bad.” I ignore her pleas and unbutton the cuffs of my shirt, moving over to the side of the bed. When I get further into the room, the sound of running water piques my interest, calling to the meticulous side of me, the one part of my personality that's strong enough to fight the demon, even in fervor. Clean. I want so bad to be fucking clean. I have Audra's saliva on my dick, her juices on my balls, dirt on my hands. I feel like a vagrant, wandering desperate through the streets.
“Is Audra showering?” I ask Clarice, and I pray for her sake that she answers. Now that Mark is buried, and I feel satisfied that I'm not going to end up in prison for Audra's mistake, I'm decidedly less generous. I know I should fuck Clarice, give her a good enough show that she'll never even question why we were out in the middle of her property, but I could change my mind. I'm this close to it already.
“She tied me up,” Clarice whimpers pathetically. I stare down at her prone form, unsympathetic to her whimpering and carrying on. “She teased me, Lucas. I don't like to be teased.”
“Huh.” I scoff and flick a finger against Mrs. Braxton's taut pink nipple. “You know I don't like liars, Clarice.” I snatch a handful of her pretty blonde hair in my hand and lean close enough that our lips could touch if I wanted them to. Clarice specifically requests kissing during our sessions, but I'm not feeling particularly generous this evening, especially not after her blatant
refusal to follow my instructions. “You love being teased, you bleach blonde piece of shit.” I shake her and enjoy the way her toes curl and her back arches, guiding her pelvis towards me with desperation. Too bad. “Oh, what's this? Is the little liar hungry for some cock?” I release Clarice to a frantic choir of screaming, most of it consisting of dear God, yes and continue on towards the bathroom, letting her voice blend into the background. My hand touches the doorknob, gently, reverently. Already my mind is rousing up images of Audra Holiday naked, the water sluicing between her full lips, gliding over her perfect ass, teasing the curls between her thighs.
I reach a hand down and cup my expanding cock, feeling the lengthening thickness of it under my fingers as I turn the knob and let myself in. The room's filled with steam, buffering the space between Audra and me, and thankfully providing some sort of cover for the hideous bathroom décor.
“Lucas?” Audra's voice echoes off the walls of black subway tile, drawing me into the room as her face appears in the fog like a siren, emerging from the depths of a boiling sea. I keep my attention focused on her lips, on those frustratingly beautiful kelp green eyes, and do my best not to stare at the golden angels peering down at us from on high. Mrs. Braxton desperately needs the interior designer I always pretend to be. “Is it taken care of?” she asks, whispering like there's even a remote chance of us being heard in this tiled box of a bathroom.
“More than likely,” I say, reaching up to loosen my tie. Audra's disembodied gaze flickers down, pupils dilating as she watches my fingers slide along the red silk, teasing it open, just the way I'll be doing to her sooner rather than later. I smirk as the steam clears and Audra's naked body shimmers into view, her pale skin pink from the hot shower, breasts dripping with beads of warm water. I drop the tie on the floor, letting it pool in a crimson circle, like a spot of blood. “Provided the Braxtons don't suddenly decide they need space for a third pool.”
Audra blinks rapidly at me, like she's waking from a coma. I watch as her eyes drop down, taking in her nude form like she's only just realized what's about to happen between us.
“So now … what?” she asks, and I can see her throat working hard at swallowing.
“Now?” I ask, one brow raised in amusement. My stomach clenches with anticipation, freed from my anxiety and filled with the elation of knowing I've a job well done, tucked neatly under my belt. Yet another example of my practiced perfection, of staying calm and cool under pressure. I start to feel more like myself again. And as soon as I log Audra Holiday and the strange effects she has on me, file her away into the 'client' drawer, the better. “Now, I'm going to fuck you.” I don't rush, don't grab at her like a wild beast. I simply move my hands to the buttons on my shirt and methodically, painfully, undo them.
Audra crosses her arms over her chest, feigning modesty.
“What if I don't want to fuck you?” she asks, but not like she at all believes it. I don't respond, moving forward a few steps, just close enough to encourage Audra to back up into the shower. I notice she makes no move to close the glass door. I feign a shrug, one that belies how tense my muscles are, how ready I am for a release. The beast needs this. Now.
“Then I'll fuck Clarice instead,” I say, knowing it'll come to that anyway. I have to sate the bitch enough that she doesn't think overly hard about what Audra and I might've been doing on her property. One last romp with the beast, and I should be able to cut her loose. I turn away, dropping my shirt down my shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Behind me, Audra Holiday's breath catches sharply. As I reach for the door handle, I glance over my shoulder. “And I guess you won't be getting paid.” The door swings open, letting in Clarice's screams of rage as she thrashes against the bed, hips thrusting with a violent need. It's only then that I realize there's a light buzzing sound underlying the raucous cries of Mrs. Braxton's desire.
Fingers crawl up the flesh of my back, kneading my muscles with a desperation I can feel mirrored inside my chest. Sex. It's time.
“You put a bullet vibe inside of her?” I ask conversationally, letting Audra drop her arms to the front of my slacks. The zipper slides down almost painfully slow. Hot lips sear my skin as Audra presses her mouth to the nape of my neck, leaning against me, breasts soft and wet against my back.
“I'm earning my pay,” she whispers, just before freeing my cock and letting it spring free into her eager hands. Long fingers curl around my shaft and slide down to the base, droplets of water easing the motion, gliding Audra's flesh against mine. I make sure Clarice is watching us before I spin and grab Audra by the hips, lifting her up and slamming her back into the casing around the door. The surprise on her face is priceless as I slide my cock into her warm heat, enjoying the feel of the moist red curls pressing against me as I grind our bodies together.
“Lucas!” Clarice moans, taking her kicking and thrashing to a whole new level. “I am the one paying you, so get your dick out of her and get over here!” A pause – which I ignore – and then Clarice continues shouting, punctuating the whisper of the shower and the slap of flesh on flesh with her ingratiating little voice. “Goddamn it, Lucas! I'm going to fucking kill you.” My green eyes lock on Audra's, my mouth curling into a slight sneer. The darkness rises up and over, consuming me, drowning my frustration with Mark's body, my confusion at Robbie's sudden confession, my strange obsession with Audra Holiday. I let it ride up and over me until there's nothing but hot pussy wrapped around my dick. “I'm going to gut you like a frigging fish,” Clarice sobs, and I can just hear the tears sliding down her face. Even at her worst, with her beast showing for all the world to see, she can't say the fucking F-word. Fuck that fucking bitch. At the very least, I can hear the sincerity in her voice. If she had a knife and was capable of it, she would very well try to gut me. Did I ever mention that Mrs. Braxton was previously Mrs. Tendor? In her early twenties and already a widow. It does cause the mind to wonder, doesn't it?
“You are such an asshole,” Audra whispers, scratching her nails down my back, gouging my skin with painful gashes. I can already feel hot blood running down my flesh, snaking over my ass and plopping onto the floor with a barely audible splash. “But you feel so damn good.” I fight the urge to bite her throat, let my teeth graze her flesh and pierce the skin – I don't like to be the only one who's bleeding – but I haven't initiated Audra as an actual client yet. There are no safe words between us, no rules, no talks about pricing. I haven't even asked her for the mandatory STI check that I require. I should be using a condom, but should is such an arbitrary fucking word, isn't it? I'm only fucking her because I'd rather be with Audra than with Clarice. The lie hits my head with a sour note, drawing a rare growl from my throat.
In an instant I'm sliding from Audra's hypnotic heat and dropping her to the floor with a flurry of protests, her voice cutting through Clarice's needling voice.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asks, moving after me as I step from my slacks and remove my shoes. I hit the hot water of the shower with Audra Holiday on my heels, body pressing into my back as I lean my head under the spray and try to wash myself clean. “Lucas.” I ignore Audra and grab a bottle of shampoo, pouring a generous amount onto my hair and letting the excess trail down my body. “Lucas.”
“What?” I ask, surprised to hear my voice come out calm and cool. When I turn around, Audra is standing at the edge of the shower, arms crossed over her chest, face curious and far too introspective for my liking. Her brow is pinched, the lines on her forehead spelling out a question I don't want to answer. You said your demon can't be burnt away, but why? You said you can't live without 'her'? Who is 'her'? Tricky, little bitch. I knew this woman was going to be trouble.
“Are you okay?” I laugh – I don't mean to, but there it is – and the sound echoes around the tiles with a bitter sharpness that cuts into my own ears and makes me frown. My fingers try to curl into fists, but I force them to my hair and lather up the shampoo instead.
“What a ridiculous
question,” I say, my voice smooth, my face expressionless. “I helped you clean up your mess, didn't I?” I don't bother to whisper; Clarice couldn't possibly hear anything over her raging screams. “And this is my world, isn't it? Just follow along and try not to get in the fucking way.” I turn away from Audra and rinse the soap from my body. At least for the moment, I'm clean. Even though I know it won't last long, I revel in it, running my hands down my arms and closing my eyes against the spray. In the haste of burying Mark, I've forgotten my briefcase and all of the tools inside of it. I'm going to have to improvise. Not a problem. The taboo doesn't require chains or knives to be carried out – it's all about the monster inside. All I need is my body, and my black, bloody little heart.
“Yeah, okay, fine. Whatever.” Audra huffs in frustration as I glance over my shoulder. She leans against the wall with a frown locked in place and a curious expression dancing in her eyes. I don't have the time to read into it right now, but I'll figure it out, eventually. Whether we like it or not, Audra and I have a temporary future together. I have to follow my instincts and take her as a client; she needs my help to control the darkness. It's unavoidable. “So what do you want me to do? I just got fired from my job. I could use the money.”
I turn off the water and step out of the shower, following behind Audra as she grabs a stack of black towels from the counter and throws one at me. I catch one and keep my expression neutral.
“Dry yourself off and get dressed in one of Mrs. Braxton's dresses, one of the nice ones. Take your pick – you'll be keeping it. Consider it hazard pay.” I dry my hair and wipe the moisture from my body before tossing the towel to the floor. Without waiting for Audra, I move into the bedroom and crack Mrs. Braxton as hard as I can across the face, tangling my fingers in her blonde hair. I use the split second of stunned silence from her to make my point. “If you threaten my life again, I will take you down with me.” I shake the bitch just to make sure she's understanding where I'm coming from. And that I'm deathly serious. The beast splits my skin open with wicked claws and climbs out, sliding across my skin like a plague. I look into Clarice's blue eyes and gauge her level of acceptance. An almost imperceptible flick of her tongue across her lips gives me all the answer I need. She wants this. Thank fucking God.
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