“Damn,” he mutters finally, his voice deep with wonder. He turns his head back to me, the edges of his eyes round with delight.
The blue moons in his eyes are glimmering with an emotion I can’t put my finger on. It isn’t until that mask slides back over his face that I realize he looked sad. Melancholic.
And I want to know why, but with the way his eyes are heating like a burner on the stove, I know the opportunity has already passed.
“You got something special here,” he says quietly, prowling towards me. The stars have long since faded, and the only thing he can’t seem to look away from now is me.
“I do,” I breathe, watching him come closer with bated breath.
There’s a small tug at the back of my head—an instinctual feeling that reminds me that I’m in a glass box with a shadow possibly lurking outside. Provided with a full view of what’s happening.
Part of me doesn’t mind if he’s out there. I want to prove something to the deranged man who thinks he owns me. I want to show him he doesn’t.
The only person who will lay claim to my body is who I allow. I’ll let Arch’s hands touch me. Hands that will trace every inch of my skin, followed by his mouth. I’ll let his tongue lick my pussy until I’m sated, right before he fucks me until I no longer know my name.
I’ll let him because I said he could.
Arch towers over me, molding his front to mine and pinning my breasts against his chest. My breath stutters as warmth envelops me, his arm circling tightly around my waist and locking me against him.
I like the way he feels pressed against me. The softness of my body molding against the hard ridges of his. It feels… nice. Good.
Arch stares deeply into my eyes for a brief moment. And then he tilts his head and gently captures my lips between his.
I sigh, his soft lips moving against mine rhythmically, like the water at the bottom of the cliff, swaying against the rocks.
I moan into his mouth, needing more and deepening the kiss, prying his lips apart so I can dip my tongue inside.
He growls, his restraint slipping. His other hand sweeps into my hair, angling my head better so he can plunge his tongue in my mouth, exploring skillfully with little control.
I rise on my toes, pressing further into him. Shuddering at the feel of his hard cock digging into my stomach, the length of him only intensifying my desire.
He’s not small. And that’s really what I need tonight. Something that will blind me with pleasure and leave me breathless and satisfied.
His tongue fights against mine, swiping and licking as his teeth nip at my lips. Another moan slips free, bouncing in his mouth until he matches it with his own groan.
The hand in my hair tightens, jerking my mouth away, giving his lips freedom to trail down my jaw and descend to the juncture between my neck and shoulder.
I gasp when I feel his teeth scrape against my flesh, a small warning before he bites down. Sharp pleasure sends my eyes to the back of my head, and a long moan slips free.
“Fuck,” he curses, licking at my neck with a feral groan. “That sexy voice of yours.”
My eyes flutter as I succumb to the pleasure his tongue and teeth are drawing out of me.
His hands drift lower until I feel a firm tug on my jeans. The button pops open a second later, followed by the low purr of my zipper coming undone.
“Is your pussy wet for me, Addie?” Arch asks on a low growl, nipping a tad viciously at my neck. It smarts, and I can’t help but wince from the pain. His tongue smooths across the bite mark, soothing the sting.
“Yes,” I whisper as pleasure begins to override the pain.
His hand slithers down the front of my jeans and thong, his fingers drifting lower until the tip of his middle finger dips inside me. A low, deep growl arises when he feels just how truthful I was being.
“Fuck, baby, that’s it. Let me hear you sing now.”
And then two fingers are plunging inside of me, curling to hit that spot. My vision blackens and a yelp of pleasure is my only response. It’s the only thing I’m capable of.
Instinctively, I roll my hips, grinding into his hand. He withdraws to the tips before driving them into me again. And again, until he’s fucking me with his fingers and all I can do is hold on, my nails biting into his suit jacket.
Long, husky moans are drawn from my throat, singing for him just the way he asked.
“You sing so pretty,” he whispers in my ear. A sharp nip follows his words.
The heel of his palm presses firmly into my clit. His skilled fingers lift me higher, the orgasm curling low in my stomach. But then he rubs just right, making my knees quake from the pleasure.
“Oh,” I moan, my breathing erratic and breathless.
“Do you sing pretty when you come, Addie?” he asks in a dark whisper.
I think I nod, but I can’t be sure because within seconds, my head is kicking back as my release builds to a fierce point.
“Let me hear it,” he coaxes. His fingers slide out, and when they plunge back in, a third finger joins. My eyes roll and I plummet over the edge.
I cry out, the sound breaking from the pitch as deep-seated pleasure consumes me from the inside out. Shamelessly, I grind against his hand, riding out the endless waves.
“Such a pretty bird,” he murmurs, satisfaction tightening his voice.
Breathless, but somehow even hungrier, I lift up on my toes and crush my mouth to his. He hums his approval, spearing my lips apart with his tongue. Then, his hand drifts up and breaks the kiss with a digit drifting across my bottom lip, spreading my arousal.
“You’ve left a mess on my hand, Addie. It’d be rude not to clean it up.”
I hold eye contact while my tongue darts out, the tip sliding across his finger. He smiles wickedly, prompting me to open my mouth wider.
Just as his finger goes to slide in, an icy feeling washes over me. It feels like the waves I was drifting in have turned angry and are ramming my body into the unforgiving rock.
My mouth stalls and my eyes dart over his shoulder. It’s dark in here, save for the moonlight and bright sky, but it feels like I’m in a room filled with stadium lights.
A movement straight ahead turns my heart upside down and sends it crashing to the pit of my stomach.
He’s out there.
I can’t see him, or even make out his silhouette. But I know he is. I can feel him.
Noticing the change, Arch pulls away, breathing heavily and looking at me like he can’t decide if he wants to ask if I’m okay or just keep going anyway.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, grabbing my biceps in an attempt to grab my attention.
“Nothing,” I rush out, bringing him closer. “Let’s go upstairs to my room instead.”
I’m no longer feeling cocky enough to fuck a man in front of a crazy person. The high from my release has completely dissipated my confidence.
But I’m too stubborn to stop. I want Arch. I just don’t want any voyeurs while I take him.
“You don’t want to get your pussy eaten under the stars?” he asks incredulously, looking at me as if I’ve grown a second head.
“I do, but I…” I trail off when another movement draws my attention away.
Arch steps forward, pressing against me and pulling my attention back to him. I have to crane my neck to see him properly and the sight is one I’ll never forget.
“I think you should strip off your clothes and show me that sexy little body of yours. Then I want you to lie down, spread your legs, and let me clean up the mess you made.”
An entirely embarrassing squeak slips out. A sound that immediately brings a smirk to his face and blood rushing to my cheeks, the creep momentarily forgotten.
Real smooth, dipshit.
I take a step back, heat slithering across my body as I drift my hands down my sides and hook both thumbs into my jeans.
Just as I go to slide them down my legs, a loud bang disturbs the charged silence and sends my he
art flying to my throat. I yelp, startled and way too close to pissing my pants from the angry knocking.
Arch's head snaps towards the sound, clearly just as startled.
“Expecting company?” Arch asks, his voice a tad breathless.
My own erratic breathing is uneven as I say, “No.”
It’s fucking de ja vu, and even though I saw it coming this time, I’m incredibly close to stomping my foot like a child. Unlike with Greyson, I was actually enjoying myself.
He rushes back into the hallway and down towards the front door with me hot on his heels. I’m buttoning and zipping my pants as I go, already sensing that this night is over.
The hallway leads straight back to the foyer, the entryway to the right of the staircase. Pausing before the entrance, he turns to me and grabs ahold of me.
“Stay in the hallway. Whoever it is, I don’t want them seeing you.”
He hesitates, a weird look passing on his face. Before I can decipher it, he’s speaking again, his voice strained. “Call the cops if shit goes south.”
I’m not capable of stringing together a coherent sentence, the panic stealing my sense.
I should’ve told him I have a stalker, and I thought I saw something when we were in the sunroom, but everything happened too fast and now he’s actively putting himself in danger.
The situation turns me on just as much as it terrifies me. I need to check myself into a mental hospital if I survive this night.
Because my shadow is pissed. Just like he was when Greyson was here, and I have no idea how dangerous this guy is, but he could be here to kill us both.
Especially now that he watched another man make me come with the very hand he threatened to cut off and put in my mailbox.
I drop my head in my hands, instant regret filling up my body like a waterfall in a lake. I’m bursting with it because if the stalker is as insane as he says he is, then I just possibly got a man killed. Or at least brutally mutilated.
I hear the door creak open. My head snaps up in response.
“Come on out, fucker. I know you’re out there,” Arch threatens loudly.
Peeking around the corner, I watch Arch step outside. But not before he pulls a gun out. Eyes bulging, my mouth falls open and I wonder just who the hell I let in my house. He shuts the door behind him, the resounding click of the door echoing in my head.
Looks like I was wrong and did happen to find someone willing to kill for me. Jury's out on the fucking part, but if his foreplay is any indication, I think he would’ve done well in that department, too. Now more than ever, I want to kill this creep myself.
I finally find a man capable of satisfying me, and this asshole is ruining it.
God? I know we don’t always agree on my life choices, but please don’t let this poor man die because of me. I’ll stop drinking. I mean it this time.
And I also pray that Arch has good aim. If I walk out and find the weirdo with a bullet in his skull, I won’t mourn his death.
For the next several minutes, I hear nothing at all. It’s hard to when my heart is pounding in my ears, but there would be no mistaking a gunshot.
Fuck, I can’t handle this suspense. No longer capable of waiting, I rush over to the window beside the door and peek out.
Arch's car is still sitting in my driveway, but I don’t see anything else. No bodies. Nothing.
Shooting a quick prayer to my least favorite person at the moment, I open the door slowly, listening for any sounds of distress or fighting.
When I’m greeted with nothing but the chirping of crickets, I open the door wider and step out.
The crunch of something under my foot cements my body into stone.
I close my eyes, another prayer on my tongue. If I stepped on a body part… oh my god—I’m going to freak.
Taking a few short breaths, I move my foot away and look down.
A rose, the petals crumpled from my foot.
“Oh, fuck,” I mutter, bending down to pick up the rose. The thorns are snipped, preventing it from cutting me, but it doesn’t matter—this rose has not been deprived of one’s pain.
Dripping off the petals and onto my boot is fresh blood. Arch is gone, and all that’s left of him is a bloody rose.
Yanking my phone out of my back pocket, I unlock it to call the cops, hands trembling. The phone lights up and that’s when I see another text—the one that came through in the club, and the one I dutifully ignored.
UNKNOWN: Don’t feel guilty, baby. I don’t make idle threats, so consider this a lesson learned.
Red and blue lights brighten the world before me, and the flashing colors make me feel sick. Dread is pooling in the pit of my stomach while police officers and dogs search the surrounding area.
An officer has confiscated the rose, yet the blood has stained my hands—physically and metaphorically. I rub my fingers together, watching the dried blood flake from my skin.
A tear escapes, but I quickly wipe it away.
I killed a man.
I brought him here knowing someone dangerous was lurking, and I did it anyway.
And now he’s gone.
“Ma’am? I need to ask you a few questions,” Sheriff Walters says, walking towards the porch steps that I’m currently sitting on.
I’ve known him since I was a child. He went to school with my mother, and they were good friends. Every now and again, she’d invite him over for dinner. He’s always been kind. Quiet and soft-spoken, he always seemed more interested in listening than speaking.
He’s a tall, built man, towering to at least six-seven. I think his family descends from giants because his father and brothers are just as freakishly large. His father was a sheriff, and his father before. Pretty sure a couple of his brothers are cops, too.
One big family of gigantic cops. Just what the world needs, right.
Scruff peppers Sheriff Walters’s cheeks, and his brown eyes are tired and wary.
I already gave the run down to the responding officer, but when I told him a man was missing and I was gifted a bloody rose, he was more concerned about getting a search party going.
Considering dense woods surround me, it’s likely the man took Arch on foot until he managed to get him into a car somewhere and drive off.
I sniff, wiping snot from my nose and nodding my head.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Can you give me the name of the man who was with you here tonight?”
“Archibald Talaverra,” I answer robotically. I guess Arch being pretentious and giving me his full name paid off. I almost smile, yet it’s anything but funny.
The sheriff doesn’t speak right away. I glance at him and note his bushy black eyebrows are raised high on his forehead.
“Talaverra, huh? This man might’ve done you a favor,” he says, muttering the last part.
“What?” I squeak out, the corners of my eyes rounding.
The sheriff sighs and runs a hand through his thick, dark hair. In his younger years, I’m sure he was attractive. But now, silver is invading his hair, and wrinkles line the edges of his eyes and mouth. He looks aged and weathered, and over the years, I’ve watched his eyes grow dull and tired.
“The Talaverra’s are known criminals,” he informs me.
My eyes pop, and in that moment, I realize my mother did a terrible job raising me. My life choices are questionable at best lately.
I’m going to need to have a long hard talk with the She-Devil from above. She’s been trying to kill me off, I think. And I’m starting to wonder if I should just let Her.
“What kind of criminals?”
Sheriff Walters twists his chapped lips to the side, seeming to contemplate what he wants to say.
“Nothing has been proven. Never any sufficient evidence. But they deal in cocaine primarily. Allegedly,” he tacks on at the end, side-eyeing me. “What I can say is Archibald has been accused of domestic violence by his ex-wife several times. He’s gotten out of the charges unscathed, of course. But he�
��s known to be a very violent man.”
I turn my head and cover my face with my hands.
Sheriff Walters pats my back awkwardly, assuming I’m crying. But my eyes are as dry as the Sahara Desert. I’m too angry to cry. Angry at myself for being so stupid and taking a random man home.
Angry for getting that man killed. A man that is connected to a dangerous family.
“Will his family come after me?”
“No,” he responds sharply. “That family has a list of enemies a mile long. They’re not going to concern themselves with a random girl. They might look into you, but when they don’t find anything, they’ll start looking into whoever they pissed off.”
I nod my head, slightly assured by that.
“That is, if they don’t find out about the rose.”
My heart sinks like a rock into a well. I lift my head and look at him, catching onto his meaning.
“That rose was personal, Adeline. Do you know what it means?”
“I… I have a stalker. I’ve made several reports lately about my house being broken into and roses popping up everywhere I go.”
The sheriff’s brows scrunch.
“I looked into your file. There are no reports made about a stalker.”
My spine snaps straight as shock blasts through me.
“What do you mean?” I ask, my voice shrill and angry. “I’ve made several!”
“Calm down,” Sheriff Walters says, splaying his hands out in a gesture that matches his words. “I’ll take a deeper look when I get back to the precinct. Can you tell me now what’s been going on?”
Forcing my heart to slow, I relay everything that’s been happening. With the random glasses of alcohol being drunk while I was home alone. The roses. And the notecard with the ominous threat.
Sheriff Walters listens tentatively, pulling out a notepad and taking notes as I speak. When I’m finished, I feel even more exhausted than before.
“I’ll look into it. But Adeline? You understand that if the Talaverra’s find out you have a stalker, they might place blame?”
I rear back, completely baffled that a cop is warning me that a criminal family could come after me. But he’s never been one to sugarcoat or hide truths. On several occasions, my dad would ask details about certain things, and the sheriff would always divulge whatever he was allowed to.
Haunting Adeline (Cat and Mouse Duet Book 1) Page 8