by K. L. Savage
His eyes hood just as his thumb brushes over the apple of my cheek. “To have both of you,” he admits.
He must see the shock on my face. No one wants me. I’m not the woman people want. I’m crazy. I’m a burden. Who would deal with someone who has two personalities? He must be lying. I push against his chest to get him off me. “That isn’t funny!” I yell, tears pooling and impairing my vision, as if I’ve had one too many drinks. “That isn’t—”
“—Do you see me laughing, sweet girl?” His thumb trails along my jaw, gathering the tear that fell from the corner of my eye.
He lifts his thumb against the light and the small water droplet reflects before he sucks his finger into his mouth. His eyes close, and he groans as he tastes my tears.
I need to be afraid. I need to run.
But something tells me if I tried to escape, he’d chase me.
And it scares me as much as it turns me on.
When he opens his eyes again, he leans down, his lips becoming too close to mine. I’ve forgotten how to breathe. “Have you ever kissed a man before, Chloe?” he asks, his words a warm caress across my mouth.
I shake my head, unable to speak as I wonder if he is about to do what I think he is.
“Good. That’s real good, sweet girl.” His palm moves to my neck, his fingers lacing around my nape to hold me in place.
“Why?” I croak, my throat dry as my body comes alive from his teasing. Is this teasing? He’s between my legs. I can feel the strength of his body pressing me against the floor and the hard ridge of his cock against my thigh.
It’s the closest I’ve ever been with a man, and I’m not sure what to do. I’m afraid to move, to breathe, to speak, but I don’t think I want him to leave.
His presence is intoxicating. The kind a woman can get addicted to if she isn’t careful, and if I know myself, I’m far from careful.
Not because of me, but because of her.
“Because these lips are mine, sweet girl. Mine and mine alone.” He turns his head, brushing his bottom lip against mine, and my lips part from the electric touch. I remember to take a breath, and he holds me still as he teases me again, his thumb tracing the outline of my mouth.
I want to ask him why he wants to kiss me now, but when he had a chance to have sex with Jessica last night, he didn’t. My mind fogs up the closer his mouth gets to mine. My tongue is tied like a knot in a rope, and I can’t speak.
“Fucking beautiful,” he whispers in admiration as he closes the distance between us. His mouth meets mine, and I freeze. I have no idea what to do. I close my eyes and do my best to kiss him back. There’s no tongue, not yet. Our lips are sealed and moving in sync without getting carried away.
Yet, I’m getting carried away, anyhow.
He groans into my mouth, deepening the kiss and opening my lips more, diving into me, accepting me.
All of me.
I’d thought I had a person who accepted me, but I was wrong.
This is acceptance.
And it terrifies me.
I wrap my arms around his back, my fingers digging into the thick muscle of his shoulders, and whimper as I feel the tip of his tongue testing my lips. Before I can know what he truly tastes like, he brings the kiss to a slow stop. His lips are softer than what I imagine a cloud is like. It’s a complete contradiction to what he looks like. All big, burly, and muscular. I expect his lips to be just as rough and demanding as he seems.
But they aren’t.
They treat me delicately, with a fragile passion that I want to get lost in.
“Your lips are the heaven I’ve been seeking from a lifetime of living in hell, Chloe,” he confesses, brushing his mouth across mine again.
I stay quiet because I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to ruin the moment. I don’t know what I’m feeling. I’m confused, because I hardly know Zain, but I want to get to know him more. My body is on fire, my lips tingle, and my heart is racing to the point that I think it might explode.
“What the fuck happened to my bike?” a deep voice booms in the house, nearly shaking the walls.
“Damn it,” Zain curses and rolls off me. A rush of cold air replaces the warmth of his body heat. I miss it. He grabs my hands and helps me to my feet. My head swims from standing too fast—or maybe it was the earth-shattering kiss, who knows?
“Are you okay? You fell and hit the ground pretty hard, and I attacked you,” he chuckles.
“I’m perfect,” I say breathlessly, staring at his swollen lips. “I… is… was that okay?” I ask, nervous that maybe the kiss wasn’t good enough. He should have kissed me while I was Jessica. She wouldn’t question a kiss. She’d take it, own it, and show whoever’s kissing her that she is the boss.
“Are you kidding? Best first kiss of my life,” he grins, pulling me toward him by wrapping a hand around my waist. He kisses my forehead and sighs. “I hope you know you can’t go anywhere,” he says, a hint of a threat on the ends of his words as his voice deepens.
Before I can ask how I’m his first kiss, he walks to the chair cattycornered against the wall and picks up the clothes he got me last night. “Change really quick, and we will head out to the living room to explain to Tool what happened to his bike.”
I blush when I remember the crash of the heavy metal yanked me back to reality. “I happened to his bike.”
“I’m going to take the blame.”
“I can’t have you do that,” I say quickly, holding the clothes to my chest. I almost don’t want to take off the robe because it’s so soft, but I can’t meet people wearing this. “It was my fault. I have to take responsibility.” I head toward the bathroom and then think, why bother? He’s already seen me naked. But the thought of taking off my clothes has my skin crawling. A kiss is one thing, showing my body is another.
“It wasn’t you that hit the bike,” he insists, wrapping his fingers around my wrist before I can open the bathroom door. “I know what it’s like not to be yourself. It was Jessica who hit the bike, not you.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I tell him, pulling my wrist away from his hold. “It’s me. I’m her.”
“You’re not her. You’re nothing like her.”
“Why are you doing this? Why are you so calm about this? I don’t have friends. I’ve never had a lover. Never thought I would, yet here you are, ready to take on two types of crazy? What the hell are you doing? Am I a joke to you?” I stare down at my feet, trying to gather my thoughts. I know if I don’t calm down, I’ll black out and won’t remember a thing until Jessica leaves.
“What? You’re far from a joke. I first saw you and I knew I wanted you for myself, Chloe.”
“It wasn’t me you saw!” I yell, the words catching on a sob. “No one wants someone with so much baggage.”
“Don’t you dare talk about yourself like that.” He slams me against the bathroom door and his shoulders roll. His face turns red. The vein his forehead travels up his bald head and he slams his fist against the door, shaking the wood against my spine. “You have no idea how perfect you are. You were made me for me,” he raises his voice just as he cracks his neck, the pops of his joints causing my skin to pebble.
“I want to take the both of you and hide you away,” he says. “Make it so that the only man you see is me. The only one you will crave… is me.” He wraps a hand around my throat, not squeezing, but enough to turn me on and freak me out. “You think you walked inside an old asylum and thought you were the only one with problems?” He brings his lips my ear, his tongue flicking across my earlobe. “We are all insane here, sweet girl.”
“And what’s your insanity?” I ask him, hoping he will tell me.
“I’m staring at it,” he growls, shoving his lips against mine again, his hand tightening around my throat.
He rips his lips from mine, and I blink, running my thumb across my lip. “Why don’t you put your head between my legs and show me what that mouth can really do?”
“Jessica.”
“You know what I think?” He squeezes my throat harder, his thumb pressing against the jugular vein, and I moan. “I think this is a front. No doubt you’re dominant, but I think you’re just as scared as Chloe is in some way. I’m gaining her trust before I gain yours. I want talk to Chloe.”
“She’s not here right now.”
“Chloe!” he shouts, grabbing the sides of my face and staring with his beautiful eyes.
Damn him for knowing to call out her name.
I read somewhere that if you call out the original personality’s name, they usually answer. Jessica doesn’t seem too happy with me, but I wasn’t kidding when I said I wanted to gain the trust of Chloe first. Jessica is a firecracker, while Chloe is a slow burning fire that has no idea how strong she is.
Jessica explodes when she makes herself known, but Chloe has just begun to fuel her wild blaze. I have no doubt she’s slowly going to own the world, turning it to ash as time goes on.
“You don’t want me? You want her?”
The rejection grows on Jessica’s face and the wind in her tough sails are gone.
“Hey, look at me,” I say, grabbing her by the shoulders. “I want both of you, but I have a feeling Chloe needs more time than you do. She’s the bigger part of you, and that’s the part I need, or this will never work. But make no mistake, I want you both.” I lay a kiss on her lips, and it’s different than kissing Chloe.
Chloe is timid and unsure, while Jessica is fierce and dominant. She grabs me by my shirt, fisting the material as she yanks me closer to deepen the kiss. She lashes out her tongue first, sliding it against mine. She bites my lip, sucking it into her mouth before letting it go with a plop.
Fuck yes, I love not knowing what I’m going to get with her.
“You sure you want Chloe, right now? Feels like you want me.” Jessica cups my cock over my flimsy pajama pants, wrapping her fingers around me.
“I want both of you, but give me Chloe, Jessica. I’ll deal with you later,” I say. It comes out harsher than I intend it to but I’m hanging on by a thread. I want nothing more than to pull my pants down and watch her jack me off. I want to watch as I spill my seed in her hand coating her palm. Then, I want to watch her lick herself clean, swallowing my come and getting every drop so it doesn’t go to waste.
“Promise?” She puts on a good show, but I see the question in her eyes, the fear of being rejected and ignored for Chloe.
“Oh, I never make promises I can’t keep, sweet girl.”
She presses her lips against mine again, rough and wild with a hint of madness, just how I like it. I grab the back of her head, pouring my promise inside her so she knows I’m serious, when the kiss slows. The heat is still there, the electric shock still connects us, but the confidence and certainty is gone.
Chloe is back, not questioning why she is kissing me, but is kissing me anyway.
These women are going to be the death of me.
I break the kiss, staring at her in awe, and push her hair back so I can see her face. “You kept kissing me anyway,” I offer.
The small, coy smirk dances on her lips as she blushes again. She tilts her head down, twisting her fingers in all sorts of directions from nerves. “I think if there is one thing Jessica and I can agree on, it’s kissing you. I wasn’t surprised to come back and find my lips attached to yours. Jessica can’t help herself.”
“How about you?” I ask, wrapping a piece of her blonde hair around my finger. It’s like spun gold. The riches of the world are in every strand, and I consider myself a wealthy man for even being allowed to touch the silky locks. “Can you help yourself?”
She slides the bathroom door behind her and takes a step back. “I’m working on it,” she says, giving me a tease of her hazel eyes before she shuts the door.
I grip the edges of the trim on either side of the doorway and hang my head. I’m so fucking in love. Holy shit.
I have to marry her. I won’t be able to breathe, to function, to think, not until this need to have her as mine and only mine is met. And even then, I don’t think it will be enough. Many dangerous thoughts run through my mind when I think of Chloe and Jessica.
For one, if I can’t have her, no one can.
Two, if she doesn’t want me, I’ll have to kill her.
And then I’ll have to kill myself, because I know I’m not going to be able to live in a world without her.
She has no idea who I am. It’s only fair I tell her soon, not that she’ll have a choice in the matter. If she doesn’t like me for my mania, she’ll have to learn, because she isn’t going anywhere where I can’t see her, feel her, touch her, smell her, or hear her voice.
I know she can learn to love me.
Someone can love anyone if they are given the time.
She has to.
It’s for her own good.
My thoughts are racing. I run my hand over my head and count to three. My heart pounds like a drum, thudding against my chest with constant heavy rhythm. I’m waiting for my sternum to crack and my heart to crawl from my chest and fall onto the floor. I’d watch in horror and in fascination, as with every lingering beat the jinxed organ tries to crawl to her.
She has no idea just how far I’ve fallen. How blurred the lines of right and wrong have become. I no longer know the difference. As long as she is here, whether locked in a padded room, or happy sitting on the couch, she’s here.
That’s all I need.
“Are you okay?” she asks as she opens the bathroom door.
Sweat drips from the top of my head, flowing down behind my ear and to my neck. “I’m fine,” I croak, trying to control the edge of madness piercing my mind with its talons. She has no idea how much I want to whisk her away, and the fact that I care enough not to is what is causing my body to burn. “Let’s go explain ourselves to Tool, yeah?” I say, wiping my cheek on my shoulder to dry the sweat. It’s embarrassing.
I hold out my hand, hoping she takes it, and without hesitation she slips her fingers between mine. I lock them in place so she can’t pull away and drag her toward the door. “You look beautiful, by the way.” Her pajama top is tighter around her breasts; a simple t-shirt, nothing special about it.
Only the fact that she is wearing it makes it the most expensive and wanted material in my world. I’d kill anyone to have that shirt, just so I can smell it when she isn’t around. I’d wrap it around my cock and let the knowledge that she wore it bring me to orgasm.
The pajama pants are the spandex kind, stopping right below her knee and hugging every shape of her body. God, she’s fucking perfect.
I know she thinks she’s found sanctuary here, but this house is haunted, and she’s danced
right into a nightmare.
I fling the door open so hard it smashes against the wall, and Chloe tenses her grip in my hand. “What the fuck do you want, Tool?” I snap impatiently. My head is pounding. I rub the side of my head.
“The mirror on my bike is broken. Do you know how that happened?” He crosses his arms over his chest, his tattoos moving across his biceps as he flexes. He stares at Chloe and lifts his chin. “Who is she? When did she get here?”
“None of your fucking business,” I sneer, keeping Chloe behind me so no one can look at her. Maybe having her meet everyone was a mistake. I need to take her downstairs. She’d understand. Maybe not now, but one day.
“It is my business. Especially if she had something to do with my bike.”
“Don’t even fucking look at her! She’s mine, Tool. Mine!” I shove his chest and my vision tunnels until all I see is him in my line of sight. I’m going to kill him. “She’s mine. Only mine. Forever. She belongs to me. I’ll kill anyone who looks at her wrong. Do you understand?”
“Touch me again,” Tool growls between irate, shaking breaths. “And yo
u will see just what I can do with this screwdriver. Reaper’s uncle or not. No one fucking touches me like that. And I don’t give a fuck about your piece of ass, Zain. I care about my bike.”
I launch myself at Tool and wrap my hands around his throat. The mania takes over. I see nothing. I feel everything. All I need is to banish the threat from our lives and Chloe and I can live happily ever after. Another drop of sweat makes it way down to my face, stopping at my lip. I flick my tongue out, gathering the bead as if it were fuel.
“She isn’t a piece of ass. She’s my forever. Do you understand me?!” I lift his head off the ground and growl, snapping the air with my teeth when his face his close enough. The energy grows in my face. “You need to listen to me! Listen!” I shake him as I yell and he coughs, slapping my forearms with his hands, but I’m desperate for someone to listen to me. “No one listens to me. You need to understand.”
“Zain,” Chloe’s sweet voice has me turning my head to her. She’s against the wall, covering her mouth with her palm. She doesn’t like what she sees. I’ve scared her.
Good.
She needs to know what her life is going to be like being around a man like me. It isn’t going to be rainbows and puppies.
More like flames and a ride over broken nails.
I scream when something stabs my thigh. I let go of Tool’s throat and look down to see a screwdriver sticking out of my leg. He rubs his neck and gasps for air. “You crazy fucking bastard. You need to calm the fuck down. I don’t want your woman. I have my own and she sings me to fucking sleep every night because she has a voice of a sparrow. God, get your shit together.”
“He can’t,” Reaper says from the doorway, setting a box down onto the floor. “Are you okay, Tool?”
“I’m fine. I just want to know what happened to my bike, and he went fucking ballistic on me.” Tool rubs his throat, then bends down and yanks his screwdriver from my leg. “I have a feeling there is a lot I don’t know. If I’m in a mad house, I deserve to know all the fucking details.”
“It was me,” Chloe says, her body language timid as she wraps her arms around herself. I hobble over to her, wincing from the annoying pain in my leg. “I—” and like a flip of a switch, her arms unfold and she pushes off the wall, confident and sexy. She slings her hair over her shoulder as she begins to dance down the hall, twirling like she did last night in the desert. “I was dancing and bumped into your bike.”