by Shade, S. M.
No matter that someone is almost sure to walk in and catch us. If he wanted me here, against this public bathroom wall or on my knees, not a scrap of me would hesitate. What has he done to me?
Heat pours off him. “There’s only me, Darcy.” He presses his fingers into the flesh of my throat just enough to draw my attention. Soft lips brush over my jaw. “Only me. Do you understand?”
“You’re the only one I want.” The words come out shaky, but soaked in truth.
“Goddamn right I am.” He lets go and runs a hand through my hair. “I won’t be far away.”
A promise, not a threat is what I hear. The way those words wrap around me, comfort me, is disturbing, but I can’t seem to care. I’ve been shoved over the edge with him, and the fall is too thrilling to worry about the landing.
A woman enters a moment after he steps out the door. There’s no way she didn’t see him, but she doesn’t call me out on it. Instead, she pauses and asks, “Are you okay?”
“I’m good,” I breathe, stepping over to the sink. “Men,” I add, and she nods.
“Pain in the asses, all of them,” she agrees.
A glance in the mirror shows me a flushed face. It takes a moment for me to gather myself and splash some cold water on my cheeks so the others won’t notice how shaken up I am.
Thank goodness for the darkness of the theater. By the time the movie’s over, I’ve gotten a hold of myself. The liquor store’s next, where we buy enough alcohol for a frat house before our last stop at the grocery store.
“Do you have a grill?” Paul asks.
“I do, but we’ll need to grab some charcoal if you want to use it.”
Thea grins at her boyfriend. “He grills some amazing steaks.” An excited smile spreads over her face when she turns to me. “Tomorrow we can day drink and cookout.”
It’s a good plan. As long as a certain jealous, mysterious man doesn’t crash the party.
The rest of the night goes by quickly. Reeve said he’d be nearby, and I feel his gaze on me through the sunroom windows like a warm blanket while I catch up with Thea. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed her until now. I’ve been so checked out of things lately. There was a time when we told each other nearly everything. Now, there’s so much I’m holding back, but I can’t trust her to understand. Hell, I don’t understand.
It’s late when we call it a night, but long after they’ve retired to the guest rooms, and I’ve crawled into bed, sleep still eludes me. Reeve followed me all the way to Marion. Having friends here may not stop him from showing up tonight. My ears strain, turning every sound into him creeping into the house. After hours of watching my bedroom door, exhaustion finally pulls me under.
* * *
“What do you think of Dax?” Thea asks, sipping on her drink.
“He’s a nice guy. Kind of funny. I like Paul too. I think you’ve chosen a good one this time.”
A smile bursts across her face. “He’s great, isn’t he? Now back to Dax.”
We look over at the two of them while they stand over the grill like it may get loose and run away. They notice us watching, and Dax flashes a smile at me.
“You know I’m not interested in dating anyone.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t get laid. He’s cute, isn’t he?”
“For a Kindergartener.”
“He’s not that young! Besides, you know those under thirty men can move.” She thrusts her hips around, making me snort out a laugh.
“I missed your crazy ass. It’s not going to happen, though. Worry about your own vagina.” The alcohol’s getting to both of us, and we break into giggles.
“What are you talking about over there?” Paul calls out.
“Nothing!” we reply simultaneously.
Her gaze is locked on her guy. “I’m glad you like Paul. He’s different from what I usually go for, I know.”
I have to bite back the word better that wants to fall out of my mouth. I don’t want to judge her. Clearly, I have issues of my own when the man who makes me feel safe comes wrapped in chaos and waving enough red flags to make a quilt.
The more we drink, the more I wish I could tell Thea about Reeve. It’d be nice to have that sort of girl talk again, but I don’t dare. There’s no way to make what we’ve been doing sound okay because it isn’t okay.
I know that. It isn’t okay for him to stalk me, follow me, invade my house, put his hands on me. It isn’t okay for me to like it, crave it even. No matter how amazing it feels or what permission I give in the heat of the moment. It’s insane. Add to that I know almost nothing about him, and he’s made it clear that’s not going to change. His words come back to me. You’ll have to decide if this is enough.
Maybe it’s pathetic, but for me, it is enough. Being with him feels the same as breaking something on purpose. The satisfaction of misbehavior. Regret overpowered by a desire to do it again. I’m addicted.
“Different can be good,” I tell her.
“Steaks are done!” Paul shouts.
“Let’s go get the rest of the food ready,” I say, getting out of my chair. It’s a nice evening, but not worth fighting off bugs to try to eat outside. After dinner, we return to the back patio with fresh drinks. The food sobered me, but it doesn’t take long to get my buzz going again.
My back patio light pushes back the darkness but not enough for Thea, who keeps giving the black woods a wary look. “I can’t believe you live here. I’d never leave my house after dark.”
“It’s peaceful.”
She scoots her chair closer to Paul. “Do you sit out here alone at night?”
“Sometimes. Usually I leave the light off so I don’t get as many bugs diving at me, plus it makes it better to watch the stars.”
“Oh my god. My best friend is a sociopath.” If she only knew.
Everyone laughs, and Dax grins at me. “Nah, she’s just braver than you.”
“She always has been,” Thea says.
My first thought is yeah, that’s why I can’t even drive without anxiety making me shake, but after a second I realize something. Anxiety hasn’t bothered me in weeks. Not one episode.
Dax starts chatting with me about some of his favorite horror books and tries again to guess what my pen name might be. He never comes close to the right answer. Finally, he covers his mouth in fake shock. “You’re Stephen King, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I laugh. “I’m a seventy year old man. You got me.”
It turns out to be a fun night, fueled by a ton of alcohol, music and laughter. It’s past one when Dax leans his head back and looks upward. “The stars seem so close.”
It’s a clear night and the stars splashed across the inky sky are impressive. “You have to get outside of the cities to see them like this,” I remark. “Away from all the light pollution.”
“Can we turn the patio lights out?”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Thea slurs.
Paul holds out his hand. “Come on, babe, sit with me. I’ll protect you, and they can cut the lights.”
Thea snorts, but gets to her feet and starts toward him. “Yeah, are you going to fight a bear when it comes to eat me?”
The ground moves under my feet a bit when I stand up. “We don’t have bears.”
“Fine. Mountain lions, coyotes, wolves, whatever.”
We do have coyotes in the area and an occasional mountain lion, but there’s no way I’m telling her that. Instead, I turn off the lights and sit back down on my lounger.
“Wow.” Dax stares in awe, reclining his chair to where he can lie almost flat and stare at the sky. I follow suit, and finally, Paul does too, taking Thea down with him.
Silence reigns for a few moments before Thea climbs off of Paul and returns to her chair to sit upright. “I’m too drunk to do that. It gives me the spins.”
“Fine, you can keep an eye out for Bigfoot,” Paul teases. “So he doesn’t kidnap you.”
“Bigfeet don’t kidnap people,” she
replies, flipping him off.
“Bigfeet?” I cry, slapping my hand over my mouth.
You can almost hear the wheels spinning in her head for a moment. “Bigfeets? Bigfoots?” My body shakes, and the night fills with our laughter. “Whatever,” she chuckles. “There aren’t any—”
That’s as far as she gets before a scream comes from the woods to our right. Starting low, it grows loud and shrill. It’s a familiar sound that I recognize instantly, but there’s no time for me to explain. Her chair flies back, and with a squeal, she flees through the back door into the house while I try not to pee myself laughing.
“Fox,” I manage to gasp out. “It’s just a fox mating. They sound like a woman screaming.”
“I’d better go check on her,” Paul laughs and follows her inside.
“No way he’ll get her back out here now.” My side aches from laughing, and I can’t remember the last time that happened. Reeve didn’t just make me feel alive around him. He woke me up somehow. It’s not only that I can see the beauty in things again. I can laugh. I can have fun. It’s like I’m waking from a trance.
Dax and I spend a few minutes in silence, just watching the sky. A satellite passes over, and I point it out. “Yeah, I see the blinking light,” he replies. “Maybe I need to move outside the city. I’d love to be able to watch this every night.”
“I love it.”
“Makes you feel small though, doesn’t it? We’re just tiny, insignificant specks in all this.”
“It does put things in perspective,” I agree. It’s amazing how we can matter so little and feel so much.
Dax glances over at me, then takes advantage of the fact we’re alone. “Darcy, I know I live a few hours away, but I’d love to take you out sometime.”
Damn it, Thea. You’re making me have to tell this sweet guy no. “I can’t. I’m sorry. It’s nothing personal. You’re a lot of fun, but I’m not looking to date anyone right now.”
He nods at me. “I understand. If you decide you’d like to when you’re ready, Thea has my number.”
Paul sticks his head out of the back door. “Thea’s about to pass out. We’re going to crash.”
Dax stands up and picks up his drink. “I should head in too. Good night.”
“Good night.” Draining the rest of the margarita from my glass, I sit up and feel the world shift a bit. I’m not as trashed as Thea, but I’m nowhere near sober. A warm feeling on the back of my neck makes me turn. A scan of the yard shows me nothing, and the woods are too dark to distinguish anything from the trees. It doesn’t matter. I know.
There’s a predator in the woods, but not one Thea needs to worry about. This one only hunts me.
Is it considered hunting if the prey throws itself in the trap?
Judging by the sounds coming from one of the guest rooms once I get inside, Thea wasn’t as close to passing out as Paul thought. Poor Dax must be getting an earful from the next room.
My bedroom door closes behind me when I walk through, making me jump. “Jesus, Reeve, you scared the hell out of me,” I hiss, trying to keep my voice down. He stalks toward me completely naked. Shock tinged with fear makes me take a step back, and the smile it brings to his face is menacing.
“You want to run from me, Darcy? Go ahead. Run to his room so I can catch you and fuck you while he watches.”
There’s not an ounce of me that doubts he’d do just that. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He steps up to me and runs his hand up my cheek then around to the back of my head. The way he grips my hair in his fist turns me on more every time he does it. “Do you want him?”
“No,” I breathe, staring him in the eye. “He’s nice…sweet. But no, I don’t want him. I should, but I don’t.” For fuck’s sake, Darcy, stop babbling.
He yanks my sweatshirt over my head, revealing the fact I’m not wearing a bra. His hands are rough on my breasts, and I can’t wait to feel them everywhere. “Because you don’t want sweet and nice. You don’t believe in it. You know it’s bullshit we’re taught to hide our true selves. You want this.”
Shoving me back onto the bed, he makes short work of my jeans and underwear. Within seconds, he’s on top of me.
“We have to be quiet,” I plead, wrapping my legs around him. “I don’t want them to hear.”
His lips twitch up. He presses his hand over my mouth then thrusts in deep. My shriek is muted by his palm. Leaning over, he puts his lips to my ear, “Shhh.” It’s the only warning I get before he tries to fuck me to death. He pounds into me mercilessly, making me whip my head back and forth at the onslaught, until his hand over my mouth is replaced by his forearm, muffling the sounds I can’t prevent. His eyes blaze when I tighten around him, my teeth digging into his skin. Pleasure strikes me fast and hard. If it weren’t for his arm in my mouth, I’d have screamed the house down regardless of what the others might think.
His expression when he comes screams of pure ecstasy and relief. Witnessing it at the same time that heat and raw pleasure course through my body is an experience I’ll never forget. I could die doing this and never suffer one regret.
I was made for this. Made for him.
Even the sting of him pulling out of me is desirable because I know I’ll feel him there for days after this. He drops onto the bed beside me, and I notice his arm is bleeding. Not a lot, but it wells from two tiny spots in his forearm.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I exclaim, rolling onto my side to look down at him.
He glances at his arm, then starts shaking with laughter. I’ve never seen him so amused, and my frown only seems to make it worse. His shirt lies nearby, and he uses it to wipe the blood away, then pulls me down into his arms. There’s no more humor in his voice when he squeezes me tight.
“I’ll always bleed for you.”
Chapter Ten
The house seems too quiet after everyone leaves. It’s funny since that’s what I’m used to and what I usually prefer, but today it feels lonely. The Mystery Mamas reading group is tonight at the senior center and instead of lying around all day or walking, I decide to go into town a little early. There’s a big book sale being held at the library today. The ladies would love to have some new books.
Reeve left before the others woke this morning but not before sliding inside me for a round of leisurely morning sex that was unlike the times before. Not gentle exactly, but he spent so much time just touching me, stroking my body inside and out, with something that felt very much like reverence.
“Only me,” he reminded me, nipping my breast before leaving. No reminder is needed. He’s never far from my mind. Whether I feel him or not, I know he’s near and it’s comforting.
The weather has turned hot, and sweat glues the sides of my shirt to my ribs as I make my way across the library parking lot. Rows of folding tables and shelves have been set up in the large multipurpose room where customers browse. It’s a pretty decent selection, and I’m happy to find a good amount of mysteries. They also have a nice selection of suspense and nonfiction the guys will like. Romance books are also a big hit with the Mystery Mamas, and we’ve recently started working them into our rotation so I scoop up a few of those as well.
I’ve never tried to write romance, though my agent has suggested it since it’s the best- selling genre by far. To write, I have to make myself believe the story I’m telling, whether it’s based on a true story or complete fiction. Happily ever after is not something I can make sound realistic. Unless I’m going to write a romance about a woman unstable enough to fall for her stalker, it’d never work. And really, who would read something like that?
Time gets away from me like it always does when I’m surrounded by books, but after loading my purchases into my trunk, I still have a little over an hour to kill before I’m due at the senior center. There’s another task I need to take care of. One I’ve been dreading.
The electronics store is right down the street, and a few minutes later, I’m sitting in my car in t
he parking lot, trying to get up the nerve to go in to buy a new laptop. It sounds stupid to dread such a thing, but the last time I sat in front of that blank screen, the stress and frustration nearly led to my death.
It’s okay. Just buying a new computer doesn’t mean writing. There are other things I need it for, like email. I’ve probably missed quite a few from my agent by now, especially since I’ve been ignoring my phone.
The store is busy, and I’m grateful that the sales people are preoccupied with other customers. It gives me a chance to look around and choose what I want without being hassled. I’m not picky and it doesn’t take me long to decide. The shiny new computer gets tucked into my trunk beside the books.
Satisfied that I’ve actually accomplished something today, I head to the senior center and haul the books inside. It makes me happy to see how the residents pore over them as soon as they’ve been stacked on a table.
The book club goes well, but it’s a struggle to keep my attention where it needs to be. More and more lately, my mind wanders to Reeve. Like a teenager infatuated for the first time, I could sit around and daydream about him constantly.
After the book club ends, my steps across the dark parking lot are languorous. He’s showed up here before. Is he watching now? I don’t feel him. Disappointment sits on my chest as I drive home, have dinner, and go to bed. I want him here.
My mood grows worse as a day passes, then another, with no sign of him.
On the third night, the fear creeps in that he won’t be back. Maybe he’s done. The worry drops a dark curtain of despair over me. When I finally doze off, my sleep is fretful and full of nightmares until a loud noise jerks me awake.
Sitting up, I try to determine whether I actually heard something or just dreamt it. My ears strain, catching nothing but silence for a minute before a low thump makes me jump. I wasn’t dreaming. It must be Reeve. That certainty fades the longer my bedroom door remains closed. He always comes to me.
Heavy footsteps in the hall grow closer. The beat of blood in my ears is deafening. I’m being ridiculous. It must be him. What are the chances another crazy man broke into my house in the middle of the night. “Reeve?” Fear dampens my shout to a whisper.