FREAKS

by Hart, Callie

  “No.”

  “Then what? You’ve been acting weird since the moment we arrived. I don’t think either of us have the energy to be dancing around whatever it is that’s clearly bothering you.”

  He sucked his teeth, his lips forming a pinched line as he looked down at his feet. “This place…a lot happened here. There are a lot of…memories.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Most of them are difficult for me. My father was a hard man, Sera. And my mother was a bitter, unhappy woman. Being here reminds me of all the shitty, harsh words that were traded here. I don’t feel comfortable in my own skin within the walls. I don’t know myself here. And that,” he said, jerking his chin at the collar, “only goes to prove that point further. The man who wore that thing is a stranger to me. And I don’t particularly want to be reminded of him.”

  A selfish thought occurred to me. A thought that would have dramatic implications for me if I were right. “Do you regret walking away from that life? Do you wish you were still a priest?” I’d asked that question in my head before. Wondered if he still talked to the god he devoted so much of his life to before that fateful day when he found Monica, lying broken and bleeding on the floor of that rectory.

  “Of course not. But I—I miss aspects of that life. The...”

  “Innocence?”

  He gave a hard laugh. “Being a priest doesn’t afford a man any kind of innocence. Death. Deceit. Betrayal. Guilt. Lies. Every day it’s something new. People get to be their very worst when they sit down on a church pew. They know, when they walk out of the building an hour later, they’ve been forgiven for every terrible thing they’ve done, and all because they’ve taken a few moments out of their week to soothe their consciences and say they’re fucking sorry.”

  “Then what?”

  “I miss the idea of freedom. I miss being able to make plans. I miss the simplicity of it all. Knowing what my day is going to look like. I miss meeting people and seeing hope and kindness in their eyes, instead of hurt and anger. You spend so much time around hate, and greed, and people’s lust for revenge, and it begins to change you in irreversible ways. I—” He sounded like he was being strangled by the words he was trying to force out of his mouth. He sighed, frustrated, running a hand through his hair. Putting down his glass, he began to pace up and down at the foot of the bed.

  There was more that he wanted to say. More that he felt he couldn’t say.

  I stepped in front of him, holding out my glass of whiskey to him. “Looks like you need this more than I do.” He gave me a thankful look as he accepted the glass and drained it in one go.

  “I miss the idea that I might be able to have a family one day,” he said quietly. “I used to hate coming back here. Fucking hate it. My mother told me that would change at some point in my life. One day I’d bring a woman here and I would feel differently. I wouldn’t see a cage with high walls and bars at the windows. I’d see a place where I could build a life with someone. Where I could raise a family. She knew I’d end up leaving the church at some point, even before I did.” His smile was sour and strained. “And when I turned around and saw you standing there in the entranceway, Sera, that’s exactly what happened. I imagined a life here, for us, and…fuck. I wasn’t afraid of it. I always thought I would be, but I wasn’t.”

  A heavy weight settled over me. Heavier than a ten-ton elephant sitting on my chest. I’d never given any thought to kids. I’d done everything in my power to not think about kids. My childhood had been so messed up and damaging that I couldn’t even begin to comprehend how I would care for a child and give it the life it deserved.

  If I were smart and possessed a single ounce of common sense, I would have turned around and told Fix I was never going to have children with him. It was one thing to accept this kind of life for myself; I was old enough and tough enough to make my own calls, to weigh the risks, to assess what a life with him looked like, the dangers and the complications that came with it, and to take them on with a full knowledge of what the decision could mean. But a child couldn’t choose for themselves. They couldn’t weigh the pros and cons of a life with us as parents and sign up for it willingly. It wouldn’t be fair.

  But then again, if things were to change. If there was any chance things were ever going to be more stable for us, would that make a difference? The question was too big for me to even begin picking apart.

  “No need to look like you’re gonna shit yourself,” Fix said, smirking. “I’m not making plans, Sera. Just talking out loud. For the time being, I’m focusing on one thing, and that’s extricating us from the current clusterfuck of a situation we find ourselves in. Once that’s all said and done…”

  “Yes. Once that’s said and done, we can start to think about the bigger picture,” I agreed. Relief soaked into my bones.

  Time.

  Once this was over and I wasn’t in danger of losing my life, we would have time to think about things like that. In the meantime, all we had to do was stay one step ahead of the game.

  “I’ve freaked you out. I’m sorry for that,” Fix said, stepping closer to me. “I’m not sorry for the sentiment, though. This place will always be here, waiting for us, if you decide you want to take a run at a big, bold, beautiful, relatively normal life with me. Now let’s forget all about it. I have something I want to ask you.” He seemed lighter. More his usual, cocky, easy self. He smirked as he leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “I’m wondering if you’ll hear my confession, Sera Lafferty.”

  The apples of my cheeks ached as I tried not to smile. “That might be a monumental task. How long has it been since your last confession, child?” I asked in a mocking tone.

  Fix was often so stoic, his facial features so well restrained that it must have been difficult for anyone who didn’t know him intimately to tell what he was feeling. I knew his secret, though. He expressed himself with those brilliant silver eyes of his, and right now they were filled with a wicked mirth.

  “That was far too convincing,” he murmured. “You sure you haven’t done this before?”

  “First time. But I’ve watched a lot of movies. I know how this stuff goes.”

  “Well, my lady. In answer to your question, it’s been five years since my last confession. And I have been an unbelievably bad boy,” he whispered.

  Holy shit. This man was going to be the death of me. “Is there something in particular that’s playing on your mind?”

  “Actually, there is. I’ve been spending a lot of time with someone new recently. She’s brilliant, and beautiful, and she makes me feel alive. I’ve been having impure thoughts about her. Very, very impure thoughts.”

  A shiver danced down my spine, sending out a wave of anticipation that made my nerve endings prickle. “I see. And this woman. She’s aware that you harbor feelings for her?”

  “Oh yes. She’s very aware.”

  “And do you think she feels the same way about you?”

  “I know she does.” The low, deep rasp of his voice was tinged with the beginnings of desire. “I see the way she looks at me. The way her body reacts whenever she’s around me. Her pupils dilate. Her cheeks turn bright red. Her lips…” He turned his head, angling himself so his mouth was hovering over mine. “She wets her lips, as if she wants me to kiss her.”

  “Do you think she’d let you?” I fought to keep my voice level. Unaffected. It was impossible. Fix’s mouth lifted up at the corner—one half of a salacious grin. “Oh, yeah. She’d let me do whatever the fuck I wanted to her.”

  I tutted disapprovingly. “Language, my child.”

  “My girl likes when I say bad words,” he breathed. “She likes when I talk dirty to her.”

  A scorching heat rose up my neck. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because her breathing changes,” he said casually. “Her back arches. I can smell how badly she wants me.”

  “And what…what…” His close proximity was messing with my body. My mind.
My thoughts. They were fractured, spinning around like drunken moths around a flame. “What do you tell her?”

  “I tell her how hard my dick is. I tell her how badly I want to unzip my pants and take it out, so I can show her how fucking hard she makes me.” He moved as he spoke, doing exact that—unfastening his fly, his hand sliding inside his pants. He shuddered as he took hold of himself. My eyes flickered down between our bodies, but Fix used his index finger to lift my head, so that my gaze moved back to his. “I tell her when she is and isn’t allowed to look, though. I tell her that she has to play the game, or she doesn’t get to see anything.”

  “That sounds like a cruel punishment to me.”

  “Mmmm. But I am cruel. I make her wait. By the time I give her permission to give in to her needs, she’s panting for me. Begging for me. Whispering all of the things she wants and needs from me.”

  “You like it when she begs?” My breath hitched in the back of my throat. This was pure torture, and he knew exactly what he was doing to me. He smiled, his mouth returning to whisper in my ear.

  “The sound of her begging makes me want to hold her down and pin her to the ground. It makes me want to use my tongue to lick and taste every inch of her. Makes me want to slide my fingers between the folds of her wet pussy, so I can feel how badly I’ve caused her to lose control. When she begs and pleads for me to take her, I feel like a fucking king.”

  My palms were slick with sweat. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to take hold of the hem of his shirt, and I wanted to lift it up over his head, so I could feast my eyes upon the hard, packed muscle of his chest. “You enjoy feeling like a king? Does that mean you want to rule her?”

  “Yes. I want to rule her. I want to own her. I want to dominate every part of her body and her mind. But that’s the thing about this woman. She’s my queen, and she has her own desires. Sometimes she wants to be ruled. Other times, she demands I obey her commands down to the letter. For every dirty, filthy thing I do to her, she’s free to do the same to me.”

  Slowly, he reached around and placed his hand at the small of my back, drawing me to him. The negligible space between us disappeared, and his body lined up with mine, his chest pressing up against me. His hand worked between us, still down his pants, stroking himself as he sighed his dark entreaties to me. I wanted to watch what he was doing more than I wanted sleep. More than I wanted food, or light, or the air in my lungs. He could have demanded anything from me at this point, anything, and I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from giving him exactly what he wanted.

  “If you were with this woman right now, what would you ask her to do?” I panted.

  Fix didn’t hesitate. “I’d tell her to get down on her knees. I’d tell her to open her mouth and stick out her pretty, pink little tongue for me.”

  I didn’t even think about it. If I thought about it, I was going to end up thinking too much. Less than a second later, I was on my knees, my heart surging, throbbing so hard that I felt like I was about to pass out. I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue, battling against the urge to close my eyes.

  “Don’t do it,” Fix warned. “Don’t you dare, Angel. You already boarded the ride. The safety announcements have already been read. There’s no getting off now.”

  A frisson of electricity zipped down, between my shoulder blades—a cascade of lust and need, colored red with fear. Fix dipped his thumbs below his waistband and teased his jeans down over his hips. His cock sprang free, swollen and rigid, the tip glistening with a bead of pre-cum. I loosed a strained breath down my nose, waiting for what was about to happen next. “My girl loves the taste of my come,” he growled. “She’d never admit to it, but when I come in her mouth, she loses her fucking mind. Watching her break apart as I climax for her is the most beautiful thing in the world.”

  With slow, measured movements, he rubbed the pad of his thumb against the end of his erection, smearing the pre-cum onto it. I couldn’t hold back the moan that clawed its way up and out of my throat when he touched his thumb to the end of my tongue, depositing the evidence of his arousal there for me to taste.

  Fix’s matching, breathless groan had me closing my lips around his thumb, sucking it into my mouth. “Fuuuck, Sera. Oh my god.”

  With his free hand, he caressed his fingers down the side of my face, along the line of my jaw. His eyes flashed with a savage hunger when I looked up at him, and I gently bit down against his skin, sending him a savage look of my own. He withdrew his thumb, running the slick wetness of my own saliva along my bottom lip.

  “I confess,” Fix said, his chest laboring. “There are things I want to do to my queen. Things that would make her quake down to the roots of her soul. She inspires the most twisted, dark, fucked up fantasies in me.”

  Oh my god. I needed to hear his confession, but I was scared. Beyond scared. The boundaries he’d already pushed with me had been exhilarating and confronting beyond measure. If there was more…I had no idea if I could handle more from him. I’d been brave enough until now, though. I could be brave again. And I knew that even though this ride had started, Fix would apply the brakes and carry me away from it the moment I told him I wasn’t enjoying it anymore.

  “Say it,” I whispered. “Tell me.”

  “I want her on her stomach. I want to tie her down. I want to gag her. I want to lie my body over hers, and I want to slide myself inside her tight little asshole. I want to feel her break out in a sweat as I thrust myself inside her. I want to fuck her pussy with my fingers at the same time. I want to dig my fucking nails into her beautiful, round ass cheeks as I watch my cock drive into her.”

  Each statement was ground out between his clenched teeth. I didn’t move as he bent over me and fisted my shirt, ripping it over my head. I stayed exactly where I was as he tugged the straps of my bra down over my shoulders, pulling the lacy cups down to reveal my breasts. He kneaded them roughly with his hands, and my body responded, my back arching. I fastened my lip between my teeth, biting down so hard I could taste blood. I was awake. I was humming with expectation. I was alive.

  “I want to mark her body with my teeth,” he continued. “I want to bite her nipples so hard that she can’t take it anymore. I want to spread my come all over her body and rub her clit with it until she comes all over me. I want her to give herself completely to me. I confess. I don’t just want her body. I want her trust. I want her—”

  “Fuck, Fix,” I panted. “God. Please. I can’t…I need…Fuck, just…please!”

  “Are you begging, Angel? Are you begging me to fuck you?”

  “Yes. Fuck, yes, I am.”

  “I told you how it makes me feel when you beg.” His hands were on me, taking hold of me, the contact of his skin on my skin setting me ablaze. “Up,” he commanded. “On your feet, Angel.”

  I had hoped he was going to slide himself into my mouth. Giving Fix head was a dizzying experience. The way he tangled his fingers into my hair, and the way his head tipped back, his eyes closed as he lost himself to his longing, filled me with such an intense high. I really did love making him come with my mouth, feeling him getting impossibly hard as I slid my lips down over him. There wasn’t time for any of that tonight, apparently.

  His hands were quick but precise; my jeans were around my ankles seconds later, and he was crouched at my feet, pulling the material from my body. My panties were the last things to go. Our positions now reversed, Fix looked up at me, his lips parted, and a strange, heavenly look of fascination strewn across his remarkable face. It was written all over him: he was stunned by me, surprised that I even existed, which was ironic given that I felt exactly the same way about him.

  Did fate exist? And if so, how the hell did it work? How was it decided that Felix and I should cross paths?? How did two broken, scarred, and damaged people end up in the same motel room in the middle of the same storm? And which interweaving threads of the universe decided we should fall in love? I couldn’t even pretend to know the answers to those question
s. All I knew was that I was grateful for the providence of our situation, however it came to be. Even if we had been brought together by the most frightening of circumstances.

  Fix was plagued by the most inconvenient attribute any assassin could possess: a conscience. He was complicated. He was constantly being pulled in so many directions at once, but he somehow managed to navigate the treacherous waters that surrounded him without appearing to flounder.

  He was undeniably handsome. His full mouth, so often curled into the most infuriating smirk, haunted my thoughts all damn day. The angular cut of his high cheek bones, and the stubborn, defined line of his jaw were all I could seem to think about sometimes. And his eyes. Fuck, those eyes. I’d never seen anything like them before. So startling. He could penetrate the depths deep down into my soul with those burnished, quicksilver eyes of his. He had the face of an angel, the body of a god, and a mouth that could make the devil blush.

  “Your body’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever fucking seen,” he growled. “I’m not greedy. I’m not fucking jealous. I don’t care about money, or cars, or any other material possession. I don’t crave things. But you, Sera…I crave you. I covet your perfect fucking body. I won’t allow anyone else to touch it. To look at it. To even imagine what it would be like to revel in it. Your tits and your ass are mine, Sera. Your beautiful pink pussy is mine. Your mouth. Your hands. The sexy arch of your back when you’re riding my cock. Mine. All of it is mine. Do you understand?”

  His possessive streak really was a mile wide. If Gareth had ever tried to tell me he owned me, I would have kneed him in the balls so hard he would have been spitting up blood. Being owned by Gareth would have meant I no longer had a voice. I wouldn’t have been entitled to an opinion. Would no longer have been free to do and say as I pleased. I would have been under his control every waking moment of every day, his play thing to be used and abused as he saw fit.