Bound to the Fallen (Prophecy #2)

by Stevie J. Cole

Chapter Sixteen

  Brooke

  We sat in the terminal waiting for our flight and I laid my head on his shoulder. “So, what happens if someone finds out?” I asked.

  “I guess it depends on who found out.” Gavin’s elbow rested on my back and he reached up toward his face, his fingers tracing along his hairline. I figured he was thinking about the possible repercussions I could bring him.

  “What if someone sees us out in public together?” I panicked realizing the mess I’d gotten myself into.

  “I think it’ll be fine, Brooke. I wouldn’t worry too much about it. After all, Nicole and Dr. Knight both still have their jobs.” He raised his eyebrows and glanced down at me.

  My eyes widened and I sat up quickly. “You know about that? How…”

  “It’s not really that big of a secret. It’s obviously consensual, not to say I agree with it — because I don’t.” He paused and noticed the concerned expression that had formed on my face. “I don’t agree with it because he’s married. I feel bad for his wife, so with that said, I think as long as we don’t go around flaunting the fact that we’re screwing each other, we should be fine.” He looked at me, curiosity flickering in his eyes as though he were trying to figure me out. “I always swore I’d never get involved with someone that would tempt me to bend the rules, but there’s something about you.”

  They called for our flight to board and we were forced to separate. I spent the entire trip replaying the night before in my head. I had to make a conscious effort not to moan out loud as I recounted each wonderful detail of his touch. The way he’d made me feel was indescribable. Something about it seemed utterly and deliciously wicked.

  We arrived in Atlanta that evening. Gavin and I walked to the luggage carousel and waited on our suitcases to come around. I watched the assortment of bags coming across the conveyer belt and tried to figure out how to handle saying goodbye to him. Should I kiss him, hug him, or just wave? I had no idea how to handle the pending awkward departure.

  Gavin grabbed his suitcase, standing next to me as I reached for mine. I hadn’t even pulled it completely from the belt when he grabbed the handle from me.

  “I insist you let me get that. Lucky for you that you packed a small bag. I think both of our suitcases should fit perfectly into my trunk.” He glanced back at me as he headed in the direction of the parking deck.

  I was momentarily paralyzed by shock and then forced my legs to start moving. I followed him, not saying a word.

  “You’re coming home with me,” he said in a tone that suggested he wasn’t asking, but telling me that I was.

  “My friend’s probably already here —”

  He cut me off and without even looking at me said, “Well, I suggest you tell her you won’t need her to pick you up.” He halted his stride and looked back over his shoulder at me. “That is, unless you’d rather go back with her?”

  “No,” I quickly replied.

  The corners of his mouth drew up devilishly. “Um-hmmm. I thought so.”

  I dug around in the bottom of my purse, walking swiftly to keep up with Gavin. I pulled my phone out and texted Constance.

  I don’t need a ride home.

  I quickly got a response.

  Constance: I’m already here. U screwed him, didn’t U?!!!!!!!

  Yes. Several times!!! Go home.

  Constance: I want 2 see him.

  We r about to walk out 2 the deck. From Delta.

  As we crossed the street I glanced over at the loading lane. I saw Constance sitting in her beat-up blue Jetta. She banged her hands wildly on her steering wheel; her car was rocking from her exaggerated movements. I couldn’t help but giggle as I watched her throw a fit in her car.

  Gavin glanced back, “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  Constance: Holy Hell! He is a freaking hottie! OMG! U slut!

  We walked through the parking deck and stopped behind Gavin’s Porsche. He popped the trunk and carefully placed the suitcases inside, then gently shut the lid. The dark, metallic gray paint was smooth and so spotless I could see my reflection in it. Gavin walked to the passenger side and opened the door for me. The strong smell of the leather interior wafted out of the warm car as I climbed in. The entire interior was covered in red leather, even the dashboard. It was absolutely pristine on the inside. The shiny silver coating on the air conditioner vents, handles, and buttons set a sharp contrast against the blood red leather. The inside of his car was extremely sexy. I’d never seen one with such a brazen interior, it fit him, absolutely fit him. Climbing in, Gavin shut his door. He started the car and the stereo blared loudly. He turned the volume down and scanned through his stereo. When he stopped on a song, a smile inched across his face.

  “You ever heard of this song?”

  I listened and then shook my head. “Nope.”

  Turning the volume up, he laughed. “Beautiful lyrics. From Can to Can’t. Corey Taylor.”

  Picking his sunglasses up from the console, he pushed them up the bridge of his nose. He pressed the button to let the convertible top down as we pulled out of the deck. Gavin was singing along to the radio quietly.

  If he can sing I’m as good as fucked.

  He came to a four way stop and glanced over at me. His voice became louder and he stared at me, almost through me, as he sang the lyrics. His voice was raspy and tormented and damn, he looked utterly irresistible against the red and silver interior; his Versace sunglasses, his hair falling carelessly across his face – at that moment I knew – I was so screwed.

  The next morning I woke up in his king size bed and stared up into the pitched ceiling of his bedroom. The large, rough-looking support beams stretched across the length of the ceiling and two large fans hung between them. His bed was made of sleek black wood and dressed with black satin sheets. A thick, pleated red comforter was crumpled at the foot of the bed. The floors were a combination of dark and light planks of exotic teak wood. Three of the walls were painted light gray and the wall directly behind his bed was covered with long pieces of dark gray stone. A large piece of abstract art displaying an array of grays, whites, reds and oranges hung directly over his bed. Numerous rectangular-shaped mirrors hung on the wall to the far right of the room. On either side of his bed were large windows stretching from the tall ceilings to the floor. Gavin’s room was like something out of a magazine.

  I rose from his bed and collected my clothes, pulling them on as I made my way across his bedroom to the French doors that lead into the master bathroom. A deep granite tub sat in front of the large tiled shower encased in glass. At the end of the room was a large walk-in closet. The door was cracked open and all I could see was how organized Gavin kept his things. Everything was hung neatly and grouped by colors. His shoes were neatly lined up in a dark wooden shoe cabinet on the floor. The vanity was pristine. His house resembled more of a showroom than a house someone actually lived in.

  Walking out into his living room, I glanced through the dining room to find him sitting at the bar drinking a cup of coffee. His hair was wet from a shower and he was dressed only in his boxers.

  “You want a cup?” he asked. He rose and reached into his cabinet, pulling out a black coffee mug with a bright red rim.

  “Yes, please. I’m worthless without a cup in the morning.”

  He poured the coffee for me and passed me half and half and sugar.

  I mixed my coffee and took a sip, letting the steam swirl around my face. His back was to me as he washed his cup out in the sink. I took the opportunity to admire his muscular frame, watching with delight as he moved. My eyes inched over him, stopping when they reach the tattoo on his biceps. That tattoo in and of itself reminded me he was not at all what I’d imagined. This was too good to be true. This man was too amazing to be real. Something had to give.

  Looking through his dining room into his den, I gazed out the large, arched window. There was a lush green yard stretching out in front
of his house. Turning back around, I said, “I’m surprised you live out in the suburbs. I figured you’d probably have some loft downtown or something.”

  Gavin glanced at me from over his bare shoulder. “Well,” he responded, “I have a lot more privacy out here. Don’t have to worry about neighbors complaining about my noise… you know, about my music being too loud.” A bewitching smile framed his teeth and he turned back to his sink. “I laid a towel out for you in the bathroom. I’ll need to drop you off at your place so you can take your car to work,” he said. “I thought about just driving you in, but I’ll have to stay later than you, plus it may look a little peculiar if we ride in together.”

  That’s right. I had to go back to work. I had no idea how I’d ever be able to keep my mind on work again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Gavin

  Resting against my counter, I watched her. Her hair was slightly messy and most of her makeup had rubbed off, but she still had this undeniable beauty about her. So innocent, she looked so damn innocent in that t-shirt, sipping the coffee I’d given her. She glanced up at me and smiled. A deep-seated want was obscured by the brightness of her eyes.

  She stood up and brought her cup to the sink, setting it into the stainless steel basin. I walked up behind her and touched her shoulders lightly, pressing my body flush against her backside. Turning around, she gazed up at me and rubbed her palm against me in just the right spot.

  “Don’t tempt me,” I whispered. “I’ll make you entirely too late, and that flush that covers your body after I’m finished with you,” I paused briefly as I remembered the way she looked when I pleased her. “Dead giveaway.” I smiled down at her. “I brought your suitcase in. It’s at the end of my bed.”

  Casting a sarcastic smile over at me, she said, “Thanks, Dr. Hunter.”

  “You’re still going to call me that at work, aren’t you?” I asked.

  “Absolutely,” she replied and walked around the island toward the hallway.

  After dropping her off at her car I turned my stereo up, my thoughts bobbing around in my head. I felt a slight unsettling in the pit of my stomach and I realized I didn’t want to stop whatever was happening between us. I knew I should, I knew it was wrong; I feared I would hurt her.

  My thoughts were interrupted when the music cut off and the automated voice said, “Text message from Amy.”

  “Read text,” I instructed.

  The monotone voice said, “Tonight?”

  I shook my head as I merged onto the interstate. I hit the Bluetooth button on my steering wheel. “Call Amy.”

  The phone only rang once before she answered. Her voice was all too cheerful for that hour of morning. “Well, hello,” she sang out.

  I sighed, glancing into my rearview mirror. “Did I not make myself clear enough when we had lunch the other day?”

  “I heard what you said, but I saw the way you looked at me…”

  Gripping the leather of my steering wheel, I inhaled deeply. “You saw whatever you wanted to see, because there was nothing there. I told you, you’re not a good fit for me. You’re too defiant for one, and honestly, you do absolutely nothing for me.”

  She laughed. “You expect me to believe that?”

  “Believe whatever you like, but I’ve nothing for you.” I hit the disconnect button and music blared through the speakers.

  Checking the blind spot to my left, I caught a faint whiff of Brooke’s perfume on my dress shirt. Her scent stirred want inside of me. She was possessing my senses. I was completely and perilously infatuated with this woman.

  I pressed my head against the seat. Steering with one hand, I massaged the tension forming in my shoulders. Being with Brooke was going against every instinct I had. I had no business becoming involved with her, and I knew how dangerous it would be. The amount of control and restraint it would take to keep her from becoming a victim of this darkness – the idea was so tempting to me. Playing with fire — she was like playing with fire.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Brooke

  July 18, 2014

  My entire drive to work was spent trying to erase the image of a naked Gavin Hunter from my mind. I turned my radio up in an effort to drown out the sexy sound of his voice whispering naughty things as he touched me. I wanted nothing more than to run into Ashley’s office and confess everything to her; I just wanted to tell somebody who appreciated how absolutely amazing this was, but I knew better. I pulled into the parking lot behind Gavin. We parked several cars apart and I had no idea how I should act as I got out of the car and walked toward the elevator.

  “You don’t have to ignore me,” Gavin said, jogging up behind me.

  I nervously bit down on the inside of my cheek. “I don’t know what to do,” I said.

  “Don’t do anything. Just act normal. Even if it were perfectly fine for us to be together, we couldn’t be all over each other at work. Right?”

  There he went saying “together”.

  What the hell did that mean? Chill out, Brooke. This is a freakin’ man! We’ve slept together — we’re just sleeping together.

  My thoughts were spiraling out of control and it was only seven-thirty in the morning. The doors to the elevator opened and we stepped in. Gavin looked over at me, leaning in to gently kiss my neck.

  “See,” he shut his eyes as though he were savoring the taste of my flesh. “That’s something we shouldn’t do,” he said and leaned back against the wall.

  Shaking my head, I sighed. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

  He laughed and the doors to the elevator screeched opened. “I’ll see you later.”

  My head was swirling from everything that had happened the last few days. I unlocked the door to my office and was greeted by a shadowy figure sitting in my seat. A small cry came from my lips as I jumped back in shock.

  Ashley cackled. “I knew it would get you.” She leaned over in the chair, continuing to laugh maniacally.

  “What are you doing? Trying to give me a heart attack?” I fussed at her as I put my purse down and flipped the light switch on. I noticed that Peggy had taped a piece of paper above the switch that read, “Please do not tape the light switch up. It wastes energy.” I grumbled as I was brought back into the reality of how bad this place sucked.

  “I just wanted to see your face. I missed you.” Ashley paused and squinted her eyes. “Plus, I went out to dinner with Colton and Constance last night.” She paused again and an evil smile formed over her face. Rolling the chair a few inches forward, she glared at me. “Anything ya want to tell me?”

  Constance had told her? I couldn’t believe it. This was fantastic. I hadn’t even been back five minutes and Ashley already knew. I was going to kill Constance!

  Ashley waited, watching me while I stood there with a shocked look on my face, fumbling for an answer. She flung her hair behind her back and her smile grew even wider. “You dirty little girl! I can’t believe it. You are the chosen one. Do you know how many women have tried for months to get that man to screw them… and here you come, what’s it been… weeks? And you got him to bang you? Kudos, you must teach me your ways.” She paused again, expecting me to say something, but I was still speechless. “So you know I’m going to need all the nasty little details. He’s hung, isn’t he? Oh, he has to be, don’t ruin this for me Brooke… tell me he’s hung?” Ashley pleaded.

  I was in full panic mode, and trying to dodge answering question from a pervert. My heart was racing. I was so distraught I pulled out Peggy’s nasty chair and sat down in it. “Oh, I was just messing with her,” I said, trying to control the jerky sound of my voice. “She gave me such grief about trying to seduce him. I thought it’d be funny to lie to her.”

  “Bullshit!”

  The heat of embarrassment flashed up my neck. I sat there staring down into my lap, furiously picking at my cuticles while tiny beads of sweat seeped from my pores.

  �
�She came to the restaurant after she left the airport. Colton and I had told her to bring you with her. She said you texted her and told her you were going home with Gavin. She also said she saw you guys walking and you were holding on to him. She described him — you can’t make up looks like that, Brooke. Just admit it.”

  I shut the door to my office and lowered my voice almost to a whisper. “Look, you can’t say anything to anyone. We don’t want anyone to know. He could get in trouble, Ashley. Please, please, please! Don’t say anything. Don’t act weird. Don’t make any obscene gestures behind his back at me.”

  Jerking her head back, Ashley scowled at me. “You think I’d do that? I’d never tell on you. You’re my friend,” she paused. “Now, I can’t promise that I won’t make some blow job movements if he has his back to me, but other than that,” she laughed. “Now tell me what it was like.” Her eyes widened and her lips pulled in like she was trying to savor some exotic flavor. “Did he kiss you?”

  I scrunched my face up as I answered, “What the hell kinda question is that? Of course he kissed me! I’m not a prostitute or anything. If we had sex, don’t you think it started with a kiss?”

  “Yeah, I guess that was pretty stupid. So, what’d his lips feel like — I bet they’re soft, aren’t they?”

  I shook my head as I drew my bottom lip in. “Ohhhh, they are so unbelievably soft,” I whimpered

  “Okay, so details. What was it like? How good is he? How was the foreplay?”

  Ashley had no filter. Only someone as perverted as her would be begging for details like that. At least now I could blab about it without feeling so guilty. I was honestly dying to tell someone. I gave her a pretty detailed recount and stopped when I got to the part about the shower the morning we left Boston.

  Falling back against the seat, she placed her hand to her forehead. “Oh, my God, I’m going to need a minute. I think I may have just had a partial orgasm.” She twisted the top off from her bottle of water and took a sip. “God, I knew it! I knew that man had to be amazing in the sack. There’s no way a man can look that good and suck, it’s just impossible. I bet the dirty things he said sounded even better with that accent of his.”