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Bait Page 20

by Jade West


  My clit tingles so hard I clench my thighs.

  “You’re looking pretty incredible yourself.”

  “I can polish up,” he says, and then he lowers his voice. His eyes are dark and dangerous, his brows heavy. “When the band finishes this evening, you will leave. You won’t look for me. You’ll say your goodbyes to your friends and you’ll make your excuses. You’ll leave via the Cathedral walk and head down to the old bridge.”

  I’m too horny to hide it. Even my voice is dripping as I speak “And until then?”

  My heart jumps as his hand slips into mine. “And until then you introduce me to everyone. Until then we have regular fun like regular people at a summer barbeque.”

  “And what shall I introduce you as?” I ask, hardly daring to meet his eyes. “As a client, or…”

  My voice trails off when he snakes his hand around my waist and pulls me tight. His palm is hot through the satin.

  Hot enough to make me tingle.

  So many eyes on me. On us.

  So much whispering and gossip and chatter about the sinister looking businessman at my side.

  And I love it.

  I’ve never been so happy to be on display as I am next to him.

  “I think we go with the or, don’t you?” he says.

  Phoenix

  I love seeing her like this.

  She’s in her element and she doesn’t even know it. She’s a natural as she works the event. Gracious and vivacious as she makes introductions with my hand tight in hers.

  I’ve never been so happy to be on public display as I am next to her.

  Her dress is a perfect drape of satin. Her hair smells of coconut and hours of styling. Her makeup is flawless even after a greasy burger.

  And she’s mine.

  Even though there’s a whole fucking jigsaw of secrets still to dust off between us, she’s mine.

  I intend to keep it that way.

  It’s the first Saturday daytime I’ve spent away from both Cam and work in over a year. Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t be here, not with the business still precariously trading and Cam’s speech intermittent at best.

  But these aren’t normal circumstances.

  I had to see her like this.

  I had to be here to watch her sparkle on her own turf.

  I can’t wait to show her the sparkles on mine later.

  She gets jittery as the band starts up and evening draws in. She’s pressed tight to my side as we gather at the bandstand. My hand is on her hip and hers is on top, her fingers threaded through mine as she bops her head to the beat.

  I should be watching them but I’m watching her.

  The set list takes an age. My cock is throbbing for her long before the band are done.

  I pull her in front of me between songs and hitch up against her ass as the crowd applauds the musicians on stage.

  I feel her breath quicken as she reaches back for me.

  “Soon,” I remind her and she nods. She rests her head back against my shoulder and rocks her hips to the beat.

  It takes all of my restraint not to drag her behind a trestle table and fuck her until they hear her screams over the music.

  I wince at the ache in my balls when I pull away from her and make my exit.

  I feel her eyes on me all the way as I retreat into the last of the evening sun.

  My truck is waiting in the car park. I take the route I’ve already mapped out, pulling into a short stay space down by the old bridge.

  I get out and position myself between two buildings, out of view of the road and invisible until the last minute from the direction she’ll be travelling in.

  She’ll walk right past me without a clue, that’s what I count on.

  And she does.

  I’ve only been waiting twenty minutes when I hear her heels heading in my direction. I’m ready for her as she turns the corner and carries on down the street none the wiser.

  She doesn’t even have time to squeak when I snatch her. Her legs barely flail before I bundle her straight up and into my backseat.

  “No questions,” I snap, before I close the door. “You ask me where we’re going and I’ll hurt you, understand?”

  Her eyes are wide as she nods at me.

  I slam the door and jump up into the driver’s seat. I’m pushing the speed limit as I head out onto the Worcester road with my pretty little piece of bait on the backseat.

  “Don’t fucking look at me,” I snarl as I catch her gaze in the rearview. She drops back down onto the seat. “Don’t look outside, either. You’ll go wherever I say we’re fucking going and you’ll keep your mouth fucking closed.”

  I wonder if she’s still scared of me. I wonder if I’m still bad enough to be her monster in the night.

  I’ll make it so.

  I take a scenic route until the sunlight starts to fade. It’s well into dusk by the time I pull up outside my house.

  I give her no indication that I live here, just drag her from the backseat and keep a solid grip on her.

  She’s shaky as we cross the road and take the track up toward the beacon. Her breath is raspy as we reach the top and still I keep on shunting her ahead.

  My black swan stares in wonder at the vista down below just as soon as she can see it. She edges closer to the bank to admire the sparkling lights of a sleepy town.

  I’d let her admire them a while longer if the beast wasn’t burning in my belly.

  She flinches as my voice cuts out loud. Her eyes are wild and wide as she glances back over her shoulder.

  “Run,” I bark. “Now.”

  She sucks in breath and takes off on her heels without so much as a question.

  She’s frantic but slow, her skirt in her hands as she dashes across the uneven ground to clear some distance.

  I wait.

  Watch until she’s got a decent head start. Until she’s far away on the path ahead and the sun is finally thinking about dipping under the horizon.

  And then I let out the beast.

  Thirty

  Great things are done when men and mountains meet.

  William Blake

  Abigail

  That crazy wild thrill. The fear thrumming right through me. The flutters and the jitters and the beautiful rush of adrenaline.

  I feel it all.

  It’s windy up here. So dark I can barely see my hands in front of me, scrabbling in the darkness.

  There’s nothing ahead. Just open ground. Scrubby grass under my heels and the whole world twinkling down below, so stunning it would take my breath if I had any to spare.

  I can’t run. A stumbling walk is all I can manage. I have no idea where I’m headed or how far he is behind me.

  I listen out for his footfalls but all I can hear is the wind.

  The wine is still in my blood. I’m not cold, even though my hair is whipping and my nipples are stinging under my dress.

  My heels suddenly hit solid ground. A path of some kind. Grainy and gravelly. I spin to check it out, tapping my foot around me, but in a beat I’ve lost my bearings. I’m on top of the world with no idea whatsoever how I arrived here. I take a stab on a direction, but it leads me into a thicket. Wiry branches scratch at my legs through my dress. I back up, try another route, but end up in more of it.

  My heart picks up another gear, knowing he must be closing. I’m listening hard, hearing nothing.

  Maybe I’ve lost him.

  I don’t know which is more terrifying – the thought of him slamming into me in the darkness or the thought of being lost for the night.

  I curse as bracken spikes my outstretched hand, curse again as my heel sinks into soft ground.

  Fuck.

  And even in my terror, I’m laughing. Even as the adrenaline pulses, my soul soars free.

  I dig deeper, push myself on, stumbling out of the undergrowth and back onto open grass. I fix my gaze on a set of lights in the distance and use them to keep my focus. Slow steady steps. Moving with purp
ose. On and on.

  And then I see the stars.

  They’re easily as brilliant as the lights down below.

  A whole panorama of brilliance. All for me.

  I stop.

  Breathe.

  Stare up at the universe.

  I don’t feel the monster at my back until he’s close enough to bite me.

  His mouth is the first thing I feel, hot lips and vicious teeth on my bare shoulder.

  I’m smiling as it hurts. My fingers in his hair as he tears my dress open at the neckline. My tits prickle at the chill as he unclasps my bra and tosses it aside.

  A brush of his fingers and my dress falls to the floor. Ruined.

  I don’t care.

  I whimper as he pulls my head back. Squeal as he nips at my jaw. His grip is rough on cold skin. His kisses are fierce on my open mouth.

  I love him for all of it.

  I know he’s going to tear my knickers before he does it. I spread my legs as his hands slide down my stomach.

  I’m open wide as he spreads me and ploughs his fingers in in one. My clit throbs against the chill before his thumb presses hard and circles.

  I hook my arm around his neck for balance. I rock on his hand for more.

  “Come for me,” he growls. “Scream my fucking name to the stars.”

  “More,” I grunt. “Give me more.”

  “Your cunt is a greedy little slut,” he says and kisses me again.

  I’m a greedy little slut. My fingers on his tell him so.

  More.

  I want more.

  A stretch.

  A burn.

  “Fuck me,” I whimper. “Please.”

  I’m naked and windswept with goose-pimpled skin, grinning at the sky as my monster plunges his inked fingers knuckle-deep.

  I know I can take him. My body cries out for the pain.

  My thighs are warm with my own wetness as he pulls his fingers free. They’re wet as they land on my stomach and hitch me into his arms.

  I barely keep my heels as he carries me. I have no idea where we’re heading in the darkness but I hold on tight and enjoy every ragged breath.

  “You’re gonna scream my fucking name,” he whispers, and I know it.

  He takes a step up. His feet thump on solid ground.

  There’s a cold ledge waiting for my ass as he drops me.

  “This is the highest point on the hills,” he tells me as my hands reach back to explore. A circular plinth.

  Makes sense, this is some kind of monument.

  My feet dangle over the edge. His crotch shunts forward and I feel him through his suit.

  Perfect height.

  His breath on my lips. His fingers on his belt.

  My soul in his hands.

  My legs wrap around his waist on instinct. I lift myself up on my arms as my hair blows wild.

  He rubs his cock against my slit and tugs me onto him.

  It’s my own weight that impales me.

  Fuck.

  “Steady,” he grunts, but there’s no steady about it, not with my arms straining behind me and my legs struggling for grip.

  I don’t care.

  Three barbells shunt inside in one. I groan and so does he.

  My back is arching even as it pains. My pussy swallows him whole even as he’s cursing.

  “Fuck,” he grunts. “You’re gonna fucking tear.”

  “Slow,” I hiss and buck my hips.

  His arms slide under mine. He pulls me onto him and takes my weight.

  My ass is precarious on the edge of the monument. His ridges feel divine behind my clit as he bounces me like a ragdoll.

  It’s not slow. Not steady.

  There is only my slick pussy and the steel-studded monster slamming inside me.

  There’s only his open mouth on mine and the wind in my ears.

  “Scream my fucking name,” he grunts.

  I barely remember my own.

  He shunts harder. Bends me backwards until I cry out.

  There.

  Oh, fuck. There.

  “Fuck me!” I groan. “Fuck me, Leo!”

  His teeth nip my cheek in protest. “Louder.”

  “FUCK ME!”

  “Scream my fucking name!” he hisses, and I smile.

  “OH FUCK, LEO! FUCK ME!”

  “Good girl,” he hisses.

  “DO IT! FUCK ME UP, LEO! MAKE ME TAKE IT!”

  And oh fuck, I’m on the fucking edge, writhing and squirming and gulping for breath.

  My pussy feels battered enough to cry for a week. My clit is swollen hard as it grinds his belly through his shirt.

  “Gonna destroy your cunt, Abigail,” he tells me. “Your body’s gonna learn to take me. Gonna fucking beg for my dick in raw.”

  I smile at the hope.

  Yes.

  It’s enough to send me over. I ride him right the way back as his thrusts become frantic. I’m whimpering into his suit jacket as he fills me up, coming all over him as he comes inside me.

  I feel the bite of the wind so much harder against my skin once I’m done. I feel how hard his breaths are against mine as he drops me back on my ass.

  He shoves his dick away and he’s still immaculate, a tux to my stark bollock nakedness.

  I can’t even imagine where the remnants of my dress are. I know full well my bra will be someone’s lucky find when they go out walking tomorrow.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he breathes. “I love how beautiful you are when you hurt.”

  Thanks sounds stupid even in my head, so I don’t say a word.

  He shrugs his suit jacket from his shoulders and drapes it over mine. I tug it tight around me and loosen my grip on his waist.

  I drop to my feet, and he buttons me up. “This will have to do,” he says, and I nod. I don’t care.

  I like being in his jacket.

  The white of his shirt is easier to see in the moonlight. It’s easy to follow him with my hand in his.

  He carries me down once we reach the steepness of the hill track, holding me tight as my pussy leaks all over him.

  I feel it dribbling.

  He doesn’t seem to care.

  The streetlights are a welcome sight as we arrive back on the road. I can do it alone from here, wobbly legs perfectly able to carry me across the street to the truck.

  I look around me. The houses are big here, perched right on the edge of the hill.

  No sign of life. Nobody asking what we’re doing here, parked up so randomly in the middle of the night next to someone’s front garden.

  His fingers graze my tit as he retrieves his keys from his jacket pocket. We’re right in front of a Neighbourhood Watch sign, but there’s nobody watching us. Not even a twitching curtain as his truck alarm flashes and bleeps.

  Sure-footed. He was so sure-footed.

  Knew just where to find me.

  And just where to fuck me.

  He knows this place.

  Just like he knew the last one.

  The tiniest shimmer of intuition, nothing more. It’s wild, but I go with it anyway.

  “You live here…”

  His eyes lock on mine. “Sorry?”

  I gesture to the road. “You live here. This is your street.”

  He pauses. Waits.

  “I’m right, aren’t I? This is your street?” I spin on the spot. “We must be close. Are we close?”

  I fix my eyes on a tall old place a few down. Maybe that one. Or maybe the redbrick place opposite, I think. Just far enough away to keep me off the scent.

  But no.

  He smiles a dirty smile. Gestures beyond the truck to the house right alongside us.

  “We’re more than fucking close, Abigail. You’re standing on my driveway.”

  Thirty-One

  Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.

  Khalil Gibran

  Abigail

  I stare dumbfounded at the property
before us.

  “This is yours?”

  He nods. “Home sweet home.”

  The place is gorgeous – period brickwork with big windows and an arched front door. Shrubs line the path to the doorway. The pane looks like stained glass, but I can’t be entirely sure in this light.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “It is,” he agrees. He hovers by the truck, his eyes as dark as ever, his jaw tight.

  He’s emanating tension. It makes my nerves spike.

  “We should go,” I offer, but he takes a step forward.

  “I want to show you something.” He takes my hand. Grips tight.

  I follow in silence, terrified of breaking whatever moment this is we’re having. The revelations are rolling and I don’t want them to stop. I want to know the man behind the monster, stare into the shadows behind his eyes and uncover the secrets there.

  He leads the way around the side of the house, unlatches a gate and steps on through. I’m excited. Nervous. My heart fluttering with every step. He flicks a switch on the wall and the whole place comes alive in front of me.

  I can’t even breathe.

  We’re on a balcony ledge staring over wrought iron railings. The view is breath-taking, just as it was up on the hills. Only this time there’s a tiered level down below, and that level has a swimming pool. It’s dotted with gold mood lighting. The water shimmers like it’s breathing.

  “Wow,” I say. “Just… wow…”

  He doesn’t say a word.

  “Is this all yours?”

  “I had it put in a few years back.”

  “It’s incredible.” I can’t hold back a smile, can’t help wanting a swim in the darkness.

  He knows it. “Be my guest,” he says and gestures down the steps.

  I grip the railing tight on my way down. “Skinny dipping? You want me to skinny dip?”

  I know he’s smirking behind me. “Unless you want to swim in my jacket.”

  “Maybe you should stop tearing my clothes off me.” I laugh.

  “Not gonna happen.”

  Oh, how I smile.

  I look around before I take the plunge. There’s a light on in a neighbouring house far above, but no other signs of life.

 

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