by Keri Lake
To my right, across the room, a guy decked out in a button-down two sizes too small and jeans tapered down to his skinny ankles watched her, too. Beer bottle to his lips, he kept his eyes glued to her, no doubt imagining the kind of damage a killer body like that could do. Full breasts that filled her snug top, a narrow waist that widened to small, but curvy, hips hidden in the black leather pants she wore like a tattoo.
She may as well have brought her own stage pole, for the kind of sex her body promised.
Only difference between Tight Shirt and me was what I was willing to do to claim her first.
Still, I waited.
Watching.
After all, a true hunter practiced patience. He knew to study his prey. Making himself privy to her flaws. Her weaknesses. Her insecurities. It was all about timing, the glorious moment when predator and prey would cross paths, and it wouldn’t be in a chaotic instance of distraction, but like lightning and thunder coming together in one masterful strike.
Tight Shirt strode through the crowd, stopping every so often to indulge in a grope, or grind, with whatever piece of ass got in his way on course toward the girl.
She, on the other hand, existed in her own world, oblivious to the dangers around her, unaware of the signals her body sent to every horny douchebag up in the club, including myself.
I’d spent the last hour suppressing the desires she’d stoked in me, turning away others who’d never measure up to her.
It wouldn’t be long, though. The sweat on her skin, the exhaustion in her eyes, the smile on her face told me she’d almost had her fill. Soon, she’d be looking for a shower, a soft bed, and the pills she’d begun to take to ensure she slept through the night.
Tight Shirt finally crossed through the throng, and the split second his hand gripped her elbow, the first pang of jealousy struck. That he could so easily reach out and touch her hit my heart like a white hot blade slicing through liquid metal. So many nights I’d dreamed of it, reaching out for nothing but ghosts in the air. And there some bold asshole dared to grasp what belonged to me.
The girl spun around, the tight knit of her brows announcing his touch wasn’t welcome.
I smiled.
She wrenched her elbow free, tilting her head slightly to the side to hide her scar.
I watched.
As he stepped toward her, she stepped back, in a dance I was all too-familiar with, where she was concerned.
I waited.
The final shake of her head killed his single opportunity, and when she walked along the edge of the crowd toward me, the smile she’d worn just minutes ago fizzling to sadness, I ducked my head to avoid making eye contact. Her scent drifted past me—a sweet coconut sugar I could have damned near lick from the air.
Tight Shirt followed after her, and as he approached, I stepped into his path, blocking his chase.
Throwing back the hood of my sweatshirt, I tipped my head, staring at him.
His jaw jutted in challenge, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Perhaps the desperation on my face gave away my intent. Maybe it was the unyielding determination in my eyes from months of sleepless nights. Or the threat of another hunter lurking about the same waters.
He turned away, abandoning whatever he’d had on his mind going after her.
Could’ve been innocent. He could’ve been her knight in shining polyester, but it was too late. I’d already decided I couldn’t be without her, and I sure as fuck wouldn’t be giving her up to some swinging dick in tight jeans.
I kept on, out of the club, across the dark parking lot, watching her slip into the one familiar car parked amongst all the others there.
She’d taken up going out by herself. Foolish, but I understood. The need to push limits and taunt fate. That was how fear dealt therapy sometimes. In my case, at least.
You had to face what haunted you most, and in her case, it was being completely alone in a city that would eat her alive.
I kept three car lengths behind her, as she drove back toward her apartment, the leisurely speed a clear indication she wasn’t in any hurry. When we finally arrived, I parked my bike a block away, out of sight.
She hustled across the street, and I caught the shine of her keys weaved between her fingers from where I stood shrouded in the dark silhouette of the bushes. The door of her apartment swung open as she strode through, but there was no need to rush after it, since I’d already wedged a small piece of steel into the locks’ track earlier in the evening. As soon as she’d disappeared within, I followed after her, and entered the building with ease. I removed the small bit of metal, and listened for the click of the door as I made my way toward the stairwell beside the elevators, and up to the third floor.
Having just slipped inside her apartment, she failed to notice my approach. She hadn’t even bothered to lock the door behind her. Again, testing fate.
The shower flipped on, as I made my way through the foyer, padding across the room. I came to a stop in front of the easel, where the charcoal rendition of my pained face stared back at me with a disconcerting likeness. How many times had I stared into that same expression, knife propped against my arm, daring myself, while thinking of her? Two other versions sat propped on the floor against the easel. It was like staring down at mirrors, in the remarkable details she’d captured.
I’d grown weaker in her absence. An addict, desperate for one more hit. And just like a junkie, I sought out what made me feel good. Didn’t matter if she’d taken up with another. I’d take whatever small piece she’d be willing to give to me—even if it meant Tuesday morning coffee at Mama D’s, where she apparently still worked.
From what I’d gathered, though, she hadn’t taken up with another. On the contrary, I’d come to learn she’d forged her own destructive path.
Steam billowed around me, as I crept quietly into the bathroom, catching her perfect curves distorted by the frosted shower glass. On the counter beside me, a prescription bottle sat opened, and I lifted it to find a recently filled label for Ambien.
The bottle sat half-empty.
A crash prickled my spine, and my attention shot to the shower. Panic swelled in my chest, crushing my lungs, and I threw back the door to find her lying on the shower floor, a skinny rivulet of blood trailing from her head to the swirling drain.
“Sera!” I gripped her chin and gave a light pat to each cheek, while errant sprays of water soaked my shirt. “Sera!”
Her head rolled from side to side, brows pinched. “Ty?”
Hand propped at her nape, I lifted her head from the floor, washing the blood away from her eyelids. “How many did you take?”
“Wha?” Eyes still shut, she turned toward the sound of my voice, her head wobbling like a newborn’s. “Ty?”
“How many pills did you take, Sera?”
“Few.”
“Three? Ten? Twenty? How fucking many?” I needed to keep her talking, keep her conscious, because I could feel myself losing my shit.
“Four.”
Four. I blew out a shaky breath, running my thumb over the knot at her temple. Forty milligrams was about to knock her the hell out, but at least I wouldn’t have to shove my finger down her throat, or run her to the ER to have her stomach pumped.
Still, she’d have to be watched.
I scooped her up into my arms, and flipped the shower off. Her body trembled, shivering against me, and I strode across her bedroom, water trailing after me onto the floor. Setting her naked body onto the bed, I did my best to focus on the task at hand, rather than giving in to the selfish desires tingling my fingertips.
Wrapping her in the blanket offered some reprieve, and I sat down onto the bed beside her, pushing the wet strands of hair behind her ear.
“What have I done to you, angel?”
* * *
Quiet moans filled the room, as I lay beside Sera, watching her sleep. Her body writhed, bottom lip caught between her teeth, and her eyes opened to dilated pupils and a vacant stare. To an
yone else, she might’ve appeared lucid, but I knew better. Those eyes lacked the depth and shine I’d obsessed over for way too damn long not to recognize right then.
“Ty,” she breathed, pulling me by the back of my neck to her face. Her teeth caught my lip, and she slipped her tongue into my mouth, as if trapped in some zombie state. In the club scene, Ambien had become the new rape-date drug, based on the kind of side effects I was watching play out.
I wanted nothing more than to fuck her until I’d filled her with two months’ worth of release. Ambien sex was crazy and exactly what I needed from her, and I could easily slip out of her room before she could fully wake the next day, leaving not a single recollection of what we’d done.
But what would be the point? I wanted her to feel me inside of her, and to know who’d made her feel that way. Not some cowardly fuck and run.
Stemming my urges, I cupped her face and lay her back down against the pillow. “Go back to sleep, baby,” I whispered. “I’m right here.”
* * *
At the first twitch beside me, I jerked awake, watching Sera stretch. Her leg lay atop the blanket, smooth, toned, edible from where I lay starving for her. A sexy moan passed her lips as she writhed against the mattress, and she lay her arms across her forehead, shielding her eyes. Only for a moment, though, before she shifted them down and lifted the covers. Staring down at her body, she seemed completely oblivious to my presence, and she frowned.
Rolling to peer over the edge of the bed, she looked around, presumably for her clothes. “What the hell?” she muttered.
“Morning, beautiful.”
With a gasp, she jerked back, slipping over the rim of the bed, startling my muscles with the urge to reach out and grab her.
“Oh, shit!” Wincing, she rubbed her temples. “I’m hallucinating. Oh, no, no, no.”
Hallucinating. The potential to fuck with her made me smile, but I kept silent.
“I … was at the club. I came home, and …. Oh, Christ, how many did I take?”
“Four.”
“Right. Four.” She kicked back, still camped out on the floor, and drew the blanket up to cover her breasts. “Four! You talked …. What …. Why are you talking?”
“I don’t talk when you hallucinate me?”
“You …. I’ve never …. This is the first time. Usually, I just have dreams.”
“Why’d you take four Ambien?”
She flinched, touching her finger to her temple. “Why does my head hurt?”
“Knocked it when you fell in the shower.”
Slow blinking her way to a frown, she lifted her gaze to me. “I fell?”
“Yep. Passed out.”
“And you … put me in my bed?”
“Some hallucination, huh?”
Her eyes filled with tears as she rubbed her temples. “Please tell me you’re real. Or that I’m going to stay passed out, at least.”
“I’m real,” I said, rounding the bed to kneel beside her. “And I’m really tired of trying to stay away from you. All it did was make me crazy. Made me want you more. Which means you’re pretty much fucked. Literally and figuratively.”
The crooked smile on her face touched her eyes, and damn if it didn’t make my chest swell just looking at her. She wrapped her arms around me, and when I lifted her up from the floor, she locked her legs around my waist, her body trembling in my arms, as she tucked her head into the crook of my neck. “I didn’t think I was going to see you again.”
“It’s like I told you before, I’m a selfish prick.”
Her chest twitched with a small chuckle, as she stared back at me with those amber eyes only a second before crashing her mouth to mine. Her fingers tangled in my hair, mine tangled in hers.
I stumbled backward, falling to the bed, and still we remained intertwined as I rolled her beneath me. Our teeth clashed, breaths mingled, fingers scratched.
She lifted a hand, and I pinned it down.
She wriggled out of my grasp, and raised her hips, grinding her bare pussy against me. Taunting me. Teasing me.
Fumbling above my belt drew my attention toward her fingers, curling beneath my shirt, and she yanked it over my head, tossing it aside.
“God, I missed this.” Gaze riveted on my stomach, she dragged her fingers across my abs and lifted up onto her elbows to kiss them. “I missed this so much. All of this.”
I nudged her back against the bed, dipping my head to her breasts I’d spent the whole night trying to forget about, and sucked a nipple into my mouth. A sharp sting hit the back of my head with the digging of her nails into my scalp.
Body arched into mine, she let out a sexy moan—the kind that spoke to my instincts and begged me to do some bad things to her.
I switched to the other breast, imparting the same attention, and smiled when she squirmed beneath me. “I hope you slept well, angel, because you’re going to be exhausted when I’m done with you.”
“Ty … ” Lips parted, her brow creased, as her tits prodded my face. “Promise me if, I’m dreaming, you’ll keep me here. Don’t let me wake up.”
“No more pills, Sera.” Unlatching my buckle, I tugged the belt from its loops and tossed it onto the bed beside her.
Maybe I’d make use of it later.
Licking my lips, I stared down at the masterpiece I was about to destroy. The raw sketch I’d smear with depravity before we were done. Every cell in my body flared with energy, as if all systems had fired up again at the mere sight of her. Had she slept another two hours, I’d have probably combusted with all the voltage running through my veins.
The woman beneath me was my source of power. The spark in my blood that lit me on fire.
I fell forward, arms propping me off of her, and dragged my lips across her skin, breathing in the scent of her. My mouth watered for her.
“I only took the pills … because I … couldn’t stop thinking about everything. I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat.”
“But you could dance all night at a club by yourself?”
“You followed me.” It wasn’t a question; she knew better than that.
“I almost punched the touchy bastard who had his hands on you before I did.” The thought of him shot a zap of rage through my muscles, and as if by instinct, I growled into the crook of her throat. “He’s lucky he didn’t follow after you.”
“I don’t need you to save me, Ty. Look, I mess up sometimes.” At my raised brow, she cracked a smile. “Okay, slightly more than sometimes, but I can take care of myself. I just feel isolated and alone in this place. Like I’m watching people through a mirror, and I’m on the other side of it. I keep having these nightmares that feel so real, they mess with my head all day.” She turned her head to the side, eyebrows knitted, like she was ashamed to look at me. “I swear I’ve seen my dead father following me to class and sitting in the lecture halls. Which is crazy. And I don’t want to be crazy. That’s why I took the pills.”
“And you’re gonna ask for them again, because that’s how addiction works.” I paused to grab hold of her jaw, steering her eyes back to me, with the kind of stare I hoped communicated my lack of interest in fucking around. “It’s called guilt and I know what it’s like when that shit eats at you. But you’re not alone now. When you crave those pills tonight, and you will, I’ll be right here. It’s gonna be a bad night for you, but I’m not letting you destroy yourself.”
She nodded, running her hands over my head. “Okay. I promise.”
I lowered myself to the floor, between her legs. Shit, I’d forgotten how perfect she was. How that mind-jacking scent of hers hit the back of my throat and left me starving for her pussy. Arms wrapped around her thighs, I dipped my tongue, running it up and down her seam, while her toes dug into my back, her body squirming in my unbreakable grasp.
All the arching and bucking in the world couldn’t stop me from lapping up her juices like the last drops from a tap.
I sucked and fingered her, springing more to the surface,
which I spread with my tongue and lips. I could’ve eaten her out all afternoon, but my dick had other plans. I’d gotten so hard, it’d become a painful distraction I couldn’t ignore anymore.
Two months. Two long-ass miserable months of jerking off and fantasizing had brought me to a dangerous level of need. The kind that bordered on psychotic. I realized then I hadn’t quite processed what’d happened out on the crane that day, how I’d almost lost her. How she could’ve easily slipped from that jib and fallen to her death, and I’d have happily joined her at the bottom. I needed to be inside her, to feel her against me and assure my brain that the moment with her wasn’t some drunken hallucination, but the real deal.
Sera sat up, hand reaching for my cock, but I pushed her back to the bed.
“Lots of time for that.” I needed to be balls deep and two shades of fucked. My body felt impatient, hasty.
Guiding my dick inside of her was tricky, when all I wanted to do was slam to the hilt, but I pushed against the back of her thighs, watching every inch slide in, agonizingly slow.
The torture of it could’ve killed me, if not for the relief of her pussy welcoming me like a warm blanket in the arctic tundra.
I tipped my head back, sinking so deep it made my head spin.
Her tight walls gripped my shaft, wet and inviting, and I held myself there, shaking off the dizziness settling over me.
Hot and tight. It felt so goddamn good, I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay in the high for as long as I could.
I took my time, in and out, staring down at my shimmering cock between her thighs, rolling my hips in a lazy, languid pace I knew drove her crazy. The way she clawed the sheets, her head rolling against the mattress. I knew she needed it, too.
“How’s that feel, Sera? Better than those pills?”
With a pained expression, she nodded.
“Good. Remember that when I have you pinned down later, and you’re begging for them.”