Fallen Gods II: Jaded Prey

by Lorie O'Clare

  That was the second time she’d been asked that in the past hour. Maybe she was an open book, the words “sexual turmoil” printed across her forehead. She twisted the end of her braid, suddenly wondering if she shouldn’t have just gone home and cuddled up in front of her TV.

  But she was here. And the best way to deal with Bridget was to be straightforward. “I want you to tell me more about Merco,” she said before she lost her nerve.

  Bridget stood, walking toward her slowly, her gaze never leaving hers. For the briefest of moments she felt as if Bridget walked right through her, examining her every thought, every emotion.

  “What do you want to know about him?” Bridget’s tone was controlled, her presence almost unnerving.

  Naomi forced herself to relax. After all, she was a grown woman. She and Bridget were friends. And she knew Bridget would respect any decision she made.

  “He came to my place last night.” In spite of the twisting knot of trepidation that began rippling through her gut, she pushed forward. “You said you knew him. So tell me about him.”

  “I said you should stay away from him.” Bridget’s tone was soft, concerned, even though she crossed her arms over her chest and gave Naomi a reprimanding look.

  Naomi held her hand up. “I didn’t come over here for you to mother me.” And Bridget would do that to if she didn’t stop her. “Now, you know I love you to death, but I can make my own decisions. Just give me the facts, ma’am.”

  Bridget sighed, turning from Naomi to walk over and stare down at her workbench. She combed her fingers through her hair, allowing the silence to grow in the large, airy workshop before letting out a soft sigh.

  “What do you want to know?” Bridget gave her a side glance, chewing on her inner lip as if this conversation bothered her.

  Naomi frowned. “Why do you want me to stay away from him?”

  She hadn’t meant for that to be her first question. She had hundreds of questions lined up, and that hadn’t been one of them. But something about Bridget’s expression, the worry line that interrupted the smooth skin on her forehead, grabbed her attention.

  “There is a certain type of man…” Bridget searched for words, her gaze faltering before looking Naomi in the eye. “Merco isn’t like most men you’ve met before. His sexual appetite is…how shall I say it…extreme.”

  A flush began deep inside Naomi’s womb, spreading through her like a wildfire. Images of Merco’s powerful chest, the thick ripple of black hair that curled over such well-defined muscles, stole her breath. She pictured those green eyes, hungry with a lust so intense the moisture spread between her legs just thinking about him.

  “And you think I can’t handle a man who likes to fuck?” Naomi itched to tell her friend how she’d taken Merco on the night before.

  But that would accomplish nothing. Not to mention, she wasn’t sure Bridget would understand why she had submitted to a man who had broken into her apartment, and now wondered how she could learn more about him. She didn’t understand her heated curiosity.

  Bridget shook her head, looking like she tried to rid herself of unpleasant thoughts. “You don’t understand. I’ve known Merco a long time. He is a very good friend of Braze.” She looked at Naomi, licking her lips, once again appearing that she searched for the right words. “Merco indulges in a sexual lifestyle that I don’t think you’ve ever experienced.”

  Naomi’s heart began pounding a little too fast. Suddenly her mouth went dry. “A sexual lifestyle?”

  Bridget nodded. “Naomi. You could have any man you wanted. Just look at you. You are so pretty and independent. Any man would enjoy being with you. Merco isn’t for you. He is way too sexually promiscuous.”

  Naomi had a sudden thought of Merco tying her up, using sex toys to make her explode into sexual bliss. Her breath caught in her throat, the pounding of her heart moving between her legs.

  “No. It’s not like you think.” Bridget pursed her lips into a thin line. “He likes to make his women perform, Naomi. Do you understand? He enjoys watching, sharing, orgies.”

  Bridget’s words hit Naomi hard. She wanted nothing to do with a player, with someone who had such little respect for their body in a world full of terrible diseases. She wouldn’t be a man’s slave, to be used sexually for his own warped amusement, with no thoughts of her own pleasure. And her heart sank as she left Bridget’s workshop and headed home.

  “Will you stop by the apartment after a bit?” Bridget called after her. “I should be home soon.”

  Naomi opened her car door, nodding and waving. “Maybe I will,” she hollered. Maybe it would be best to hang out with her friends, instead of wallowing in misery alone in her own apartment.

  And maybe Merco would come to her again if she were to stay home alone.

  But if he didn’t…she ran the chance of falling asleep early and risking her nightmares. Just the thought of the nasty demon that tormented her sleep gave her the shivers. She couldn’t get her car heater to warm up fast enough.

  Several hours later, the cold night air seemed to wrap around her in her apartment. Naomi wrapped up in an afghan on her couch, deciding to call Bridget instead of going over there. But since there was no answer, she assumed her friend had something come up.

  “Maybe their apartment is too cold to hang out in, too,” she mused, standing up to check her thermostat.

  It showed the apartment should be a balmy eighty degrees, yet she swore she could see her breath. Her nipples were so hard they hurt under her sweatshirt, and it was all she could do to keep her teeth from chattering.

  If Merco showed up, she bet he would keep her warm.

  Cuddling under her blanket and staring at the show on TV that she was paying absolutely no attention to, she imagined Merco strolling through her door. So tall and dark, well-built and confident, it wouldn’t take much to convince her that he was a product of her imagination. And if Bridget hadn’t acknowledged knowing him, she might have wondered if she hadn’t simply conjured him up.

  Something about his appearing out of nowhere, refusing to tell her how he’d entered her apartment, gave him a dangerous air. That excited her even more. He didn’t take no for an answer, yet demanded that she tell him she wanted him.

  Her pussy began throbbing, and she reached inside her blanket, running her hand under the elastic of her sweatpants. The warmth from her pussy wrapped around her cold fingers. And when she touched herself, she sucked in a breath. Hot moisture wrapped around her chilled fingers.

  “Oh, damn,” she murmured, separating the smooth flesh between her legs and probing deeper.

  If these were Merco’s fingers, touching her, spreading her, moving deep inside her, she would be begging him to fuck her. Her small hand couldn’t reach where she knew he could reach, couldn’t soothe the ache that she knew he could appease.

  She exhaled, her breath clouding in front of her face as the room seemed to grow even colder. It wasn’t right to fantasize about Merco. If what Bridget said was true, she should force the man out of her thoughts, refuse to give him the time of day. Even if the only time she was giving him was in her imagination.

  “That’s right, my precious slut, you shouldn’t be thinking about that useless god. His powers won’t help you now.” The menacing voice that haunted her dreams and turned them into nightmares sounded like it came from right next to her.

  “Shit!” Naomi screamed, almost falling off the couch as she yanked her hand out of her soaked pussy and then struggled with the blanket that tangled around her.

  She looked frantically around her apartment, seeing no one. It made no sense. That was the hissing sound of the demon, and she hadn’t been asleep.

  And what did he mean about useless god? Or powers? Naomi shoved the blanket away, shaking furiously but no longer caring that she was cold. Something was seriously wrong here.

  “He won’t come to you again, you slut.” The voice came from right behind her.

  Naomi spun around, making herself d
izzy. Again no one was there.

  “You belong to me. To me!” He shouted the words at her, this time his voice seeming to come from all around her.

  Naomi tried to lick her dry lips, but her tongue was just as parched. Shaking, she looked around her wide-eyed, too terrified to organize her thoughts.

  “Where are you?” she asked, knowing she really didn’t want to know. “Leave me alone.”

  She sounded pathetic even to herself.

  Silence loomed around her. Her heart pounded in her chest as she glanced at the reporter, chatting cheerfully on the TV about something. She continued a visual survey of her living room. Tangling her fingers in her braided hair she tried to regain control of her wits.

  Someone touched her, and she spun around, or tried to. A bony grip held her in place while long groping fingers ripped at her breasts.

  “No!” she screamed, lunging forward away from the demon.

  He let go of her and she toppled to the floor, her hands and knees burning instantly when she scraped them along her carpet.

  “Get out of here and leave me alone.” She fell backwards, scurrying crablike with her rear end dragging on the floor toward the door of her apartment.

  “There is nowhere that you can run and escape me.” His voice seemed inches from her face, so close that she could smell the foul breath that she knew all too well from her nightmares. “There is no one you can run to, either. No one would believe you. They would shake their head and label you a fool. Do you understand? You are mine.” His words sliced through her, sending her into a panic.

  “Stop it,” she cried out. “Please. Why are you doing this to me?”

  The door behind her moved and she jumped, terror making it hard to think straight.

  “Naomi.” Bridget’s concerned voice came from the other side of the door. Then a bit louder, more urgent, her friend called out again. “Naomi. Let me in.”

  Naomi scooted away from the door, surprised to see it open easily. In the next instant, her friend had her wrapped in her arms, holding her securely while she began soothing tones.

  “It’s okay. We’re here now. You’re going to be okay.”

  “Mention anything about me, you little slut, and I will make your nightmares look like child’s play.” The demon’s voice whispered brutally through her.

  Naomi shivered, icy fingers creeping down her spine giving her goose bumps. She clung to Bridget without realizing what she did.

  “She’s terrified and I can’t tell why,” she heard Bridget say to Braze who stood over her.

  Chapter Nine

  Ten minutes later, Naomi sat on her couch with a doubtful Bridget and Braze looking down at her.

  “I’m fine. Really I am.” She was anything but fine, but as much as she hated to admit it, the demon was right. There was no way they would believe her if she told them the truth.

  Bridget turned, looking up at Braze and she watched while the two stared at each other, seeming to speak to each other without talking. She found her tummy twisting, envying them the bond that they shared. Maybe someday, if she were lucky, she would have a relationship like that.

  A soft tapping on her door made her jump. Both Bridget and Braze turned to look at her closed door, although neither of them moved. Bridget let out a sigh when Naomi got up to answer it. She realized her legs were shaking when she pulled the door open.

  Merco stood on the other side of the door, in the hallway, looking larger than life, and very concerned.

  Which, of course, was her imagination. The man had no idea what she had just been through.

  He wore blue jeans that looked well-worn and molded against his long muscular legs. No man ever made a simple T-shirt look so delicious. The material stretched over his chest, his muscular arms bulging where the shirt sleeves ended. Her mouth was suddenly no longer dry. Instead, she found she was on the verge of drooling.

  “You need me.” The calm assurance in his tone made his statement almost sound dangerous.

  She couldn’t have spoken if she wanted. Moving to the side, she held the door open allowing him into her living room. For the life of her she wished she were in anything other than her old faded sweatshirt and sweatpants. She had to look like shit. And he—he looked like perfection.

  Tall and so well-built, he made a Greek god look like a schoolboy. Something in his stance, in the expression on his face, gave her the impression he would pounce at the first sign of danger, taking on any threat without hesitation. If he weren’t making her so damned wet between her thighs at that very moment, she would consider him terrifying.

  “What are you doing here, Merco?” Bridget’s tone was calm, yet reprimanding.

  Merco didn’t take his gaze off of Naomi. “I stopped in at your place, and no one was home.”

  “Liar,” Bridget mumbled and Braze ran his hand down the back of her head, giving her hair a slight tug.

  He looked up at Merco with a relaxed smile. Naomi got the impression that they all knew each other very well.

  “How are you doing, old friend?” Braze asked, reaching out with his free hand to shake Merco’s hand.

  “Merco, why don’t you wait for us down at our apartment?” Bridget seemed anxious to get him out of Naomi’s apartment.

  Merco looked down at Naomi. “I’m not going anywhere without her.”

  His expression was relaxed, not a single crease in his forehead, no worry lines around his mouth. Those sexy green eyes probed deep inside her, pulling at emotions that were already too frazzled to get organized. Something changed in his expression while he stared at her. A muscle twitching next to his mouth was her only clue.

  She forced herself to blink, to break the spell he seemed to put her under the second she’d opened her door. Her breath suddenly came too fast, her mouth too dry to speak. Just being near this man seemed to throw her entire insides off balance. The moisture between her legs grew, a slow throbbing distracting her, while memories of what he was capable of doing to her body suddenly took over her rational thought.

  “Merco…” Bridget began.

  But Braze stopped her with a touch, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Merco won’t do anything to hurt her.”

  Bridget made a snorting sound. Naomi looked at her, and then slowly looked at the two men. All of them watched her, as if they expected something from her. She had no idea what to say. Hell, yes, she wanted Merco to stay. There was no way she could be alone in her apartment.

  “Make them go away.” The hissing threat in her head from the nasty creature made her duck. “Get rid of all of them right now or I swear you’ll regret it.”

  She didn’t mean to react so visibly to the demon. But never had he spoken to her when others had been around. Up until now, he’d only harassed her while she slept. A chill wrapped around her and she fought to cover up her unexpected movement by walking away from all three of them.

  “What just happened?” she heard Merco ask.

  She turned around, ready to apologize for her sudden movement. It took everything she had not to walk into that powerful chest of his, seek out his warmth, his security. She didn’t know why. But for some reason she was sure the demon wouldn’t harass her if she were with Merco.

  “Naomi.” Bridget reached for her, placing her slender hand on Naomi’s shoulder.

  “I can’t pick anything up other than she is terrified.” Braze said that, his voice full of concern.

  “Naomi. Come here.” Merco also approached her.

  “No, Merco.” Bridget sounded stern.

  Naomi frowned, catching the worried expressions on all of their faces.

  “Bridget, she is a grown woman. You can’t play mother hen to all of them.” Merco looked like he would pat Bridget on the head.

  Bridget placed her fists on her hips. “Why this one? If you are just playing around, go mess with another lady’s head.”

  “Quit it. Both of you.” She couldn’t handle her best friend and Merco bickering like this. “I decide who messes
with my head.”

  The way Bridget looked at her made her realize how ridiculous her words had just sounded. She held the same stern expression when she turned her attention to Merco.

  “And I won’t have any man messing with my head,” she added quickly, feeling the heat flush through her cheeks when he cocked an eyebrow at her.

  “That’s it. Make them leave.” The demon spoke louder in her thoughts. “I’m the only one who shall be inside you. I will torture that luscious body of yours, enjoying every inch of you until you scream and beg to do whatever I wish. That cunt of yours will be mine to devour.”

  “Stop it,” she screamed, covering her face with her hands, wishing she could scratch the demon out of her head. She wanted to yell out that she would keep her friends here forever if he didn’t quit taunting her.

  “Don’t even dare to threaten me. Not even in your thoughts.” A piercing pain drove through her, like a spear had pierced her at the tip of her head and drove its fierce point clear through her, impaling her.

  Naomi gasped, sucking in a staggered breath, doing her best not to stagger from the outrageous infliction. In the next instant it was gone, dissipating as if it had never been there.

  “She isn’t talking to us,” Braze said.

  “You’re right. But why can’t we hear it, too?” Merco asked.

  “She needs protection,” Bridget said, and then placed her warm hands on Naomi’s arms. “Naomi, you’re staying with us until we figure out what is wrong.”

  “I’ll protect her.” Merco reached for her.

  His hands were like a magnet, calling her body to him as he opened to her, willing her to come to him. She took a step toward him.

  Scared to breathe, not sure what this creature in her head was capable of, all she knew was that he was much more than a terrible nightmare.

  “Naomi.” Bridget stepped in front of Merco, cupping Naomi’s face with her hands. “Tell me what is going on. Do you see someone else here besides us?”

  “That’s crazy.” Naomi couldn’t help a small laugh that bordered on sounding hysterical. Her heart raced painfully in her chest and she looked over Bridget’s shoulder at Merco. “There isn’t anyone here besides us.”