by Holly Hood
The feeling of Love
Sam studied Delaney’s sleeping form that lay delicately against his pillows. The small smile glued to her face made his heart ache. He raised his trembling hand over her. He didn’t want to hurt her but he wasn’t sure if he had any alternatives. When her eyelids twitched, he quickly dropped his hand on her forehead stroking her face ever so lightly. And when she seemed at ease, he slowly pulled away, lifting a pillow from the bed, cautious not to wake her. With the pillow barely an inch from her face, Delaney gasped. Sam grabbed her by the back of the neck lifting her head and tucked the pillow that he had almost tried suffocating her with behind her.
“Comfortable?” he whispered, dropping down beside her, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
“You scared me a little,” she said, rolling over until her body was pressed securely on top of his. She smiled down on him, and although he could only see bits of her perfect expression, that was enough for him.
“I don’t ever want you to be scared of me,” he said, stroking her dark hair. Her big doe like eyes stared back at him a little bothered he would say such a thing.
“Never, love.” She kissed him tenderly, resting her head against his chest. Stroking his arms with the kind of contact he was used to only coming from her. The only time he didn’t hate it. Sam studied her perfect body against the glow of the moonlight that was spilling through the window. He drug his fingertips along her ribcage. Each slight dip in her skin making him more excited. He loved every part of her. He loved the taste of her. He flipped her over in an instant, pushing her hair away from her back, guiding his hand down the length of her spine.
Delaney shuddered against his touch, his warm breath on her skin, his lips colliding with her body. He only had to touch her to cause so much pleasure in every part of her. All the way to her soul. At last, she didn’t think she had it in her to take anymore of his advances. To him it was intimate, but she needed more. This was the part of Vance that held out longer than she ever could. And she just wished for once he would give in and close the gap that seemed to be the big hole in their relationship. Vance told her it was important to him that they waited until their marriage to truly be intimate with each other. But it was becoming more and more difficult every time they shared a bed together.
She stealthily slid her hand down his stomach, taking him in her hands, urging him to give in. She softly nibbled at his neck. “Come on, Love. I want you,” she whispered, pleading with him to just give in. Something she never had to do in her life. Any guy would be grateful to be intimate with her.
Vance pushed her head back onto the pillow with a little more force than she was used to. He stared into her eyes and kissed her forehead, the bridge of her nose, making it down to her full lips. As he rubbed the side of her face with his scratchy cheek, she tilted her head back, waiting. Her hands holding him in place for fear he would give up before she got what she wanted. But for once he continued. He parted her legs sliding between her, his thumb gliding down the soft skin of her neck, remaining against that delicate area that with just enough compression could cut off your breathing. But she looked passed it, arching her body towards Vance as she waited for him to enter her, her body tingling with excitement at the thought of it.
“Please,” she purred, closing her eyes, waiting.
Vance studied Delaney’s features, toying with the idea of giving her what she wanted. He wanted the same thing, but feared the worse if he gave in to desire. Closing his eyelids ignited grisly memories of all the girls before her. Their shocked expressions, the fear that filled their eyes, it was almost too much for him.
Delaney let out soft moans of satisfaction as his fingers trailed between her legs. He couldn’t give in. He watched her wiggle and squirm in pleasure. And before he could let it go too far he pulled away, coaxing her down below. She obliged, gliding down his body, ready to please him even though he had done no such thing for her.
He closed his eyes, rubbing the back of her head to the rhythm of her movement. She was flawless, wasting no time to bring him to the point of no return. And he was about to lose all control. Delaney gripped his waist, fighting against his retreat. She winced at the pressure Vance was putting on her wrist as he climaxed. He was hurting her but she looked past it glad she was able to finally please him.
Vance’s body grew stiff instead of tranquil. He stood in the dark room, searching for his clothes, extremely agitated.
“That was nice. Right, Love?” she asked, turning over and drawing up the blankets as she watched him dress. Worried he wasn’t as excited about the ending as she was. She wondered where he was going at such a late hour.
He leaned over the bed, planting a quick kiss on her lips, tousling her hair with his hand before he finished buttoning his shirt. “I won’t be long.”
Delaney watched him leave the room. She felt a little baffled by his quick departure. Maybe she had pushed him to far in one night. Vance never liked to be so intimate. Most nights heavy petting was all she got—if that at all. She tried telling herself his romantic beliefs were the reasons that he wanted that moment to be special. But he was too attractive of a guy for her to fall into that baloney. Something was off. But she loved him too much to think too far into it. She told herself he probably had personal issues with intimacy. And this wasn’t something to fault him for.
The Bar
Sam sat in the bar front and center, nursing a whiskey. Doing anything he could to alleviate the anxiety radiating to his core. Each sip of the harsh liquor made the strain in between his shoulders diminish. And he was grateful.
A muscular hand clamped down on Sam’s shoulder. “I didn’t expect to see you out.” The owner of the hand said, taking a seat next to Sam at the bar. He gestured the brunette bartender over, ordering a beer.
Sam wasn’t happy to see him. This was not what he needed tonight, he thought, sitting up straight, prepared for some kind of lecture or whatever his brother wanted to give him.
“Needed a drink what can I say?” Sam shrugged, finishing off his whiskey and plunking it back down on the table.
“I figured the big man would be back home with his fiancé…did I mention to you how insane that is to say?” Frankie, his brother poked, laughing. “You. Married. That’s like out of this world. And just how were you planning on pulling that one off?”
Sam gripped the glass. Soon enough he would be picking bits of glass out of his flesh wounds and he didn’t care. He just wanted Frankie to get the hell away from him. He didn’t need anyone rubbing the stupid choices he was making in his face. He didn’t want to make the choice he did, somehow it just happened. “Aren’t you here on the lookout? Don’t let me get in your way.”
Frankie laughed, peeling a couple bills from a large roll of cash; he dropped them gently on the counter, flashing the bartender an enticing smile, just enough to charm her. Sam watched his younger brother completely reel the bartender in. Seconds passed and she was leaning over the counter, a smile from ear to ear. Finally Frankie shut her down, directing his attention back to his brother. “I just got my hands on a buxom brunette on the way over. So tell me. What are you craving tonight?”
Sam sighed, unflinchingly holding his stare on the glass. He wasn’t going to cave. He believed if he tried hard enough he could fight the urge.
Frankie leaned over and whispered. “This is part of who you are. I don’t know why you try fighting it. Just give in, you’ll feel a hell of a lot better.” Frankie scrubbed at his chin, wondering where his brother went wrong. They were from a long line of incubus. The only difference between them and the true incubus was their blood. It had been tangled with that of a human and therefore they sometimes had a conscious. Sometimes they felt remorse for running through woman like worthless trinkets. But Frankie found a way to get over any feelings of remorse. He got rid of his feelings altogether, while his brother on the other hand appeared to be losing his touch. He once admired the skill Sam had at luring woman into his bed
to feed off of them sexually. But not any longer. Not since this Delaney came slinking into Frankie’s line of sight.
“That’s exactly right. Part of who we are. I’d rather be human then a savage animal.” Sam meant it. But at the same time he knew the effect of holding out. Holding out on woman was a lot worse than just using one. If he slept with one, the anger intensified and he needed more. If he went almost through the act but stopped himself he got the rush he needed to feel somewhat normal without having to lose himself. It was a real conundrum, one that he never quite figured out. He hated feeling like a monster just to live a normal life. But normal for Sam was homicidal to the world and nobody understood.
Frankie wrapped his hand on the counter to get his attention. “I got a little present for you, Sam,” he said, pointing animatedly in the route of the two younger girls coming their way. The first was willowy, and she had one of those trendy rocker hairstyles, with a lot of dark makeup. Sam wasn’t fond of piercings, so he quickly scanned over her friend. She was a little more his style, short black skirt with a red halter, and curly hair that reminded him of many girls before her. She gave him a delicate smile, completely amazed by Sam’s good looks, and his equally attractive brother.
Frankie took the gothic girls hand. “What say you and I get out of here for a little while?”
“I think that sounds amazing. Kayla can stay with your friend,” she insisted, already halfway to the door with Frankie before Sam could object. Sam watched them leave, a sick knot forming in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t help but feel a bit excited as he breathed in her floral perfume that was all around him now as he stood next to Kayla.
“What’s your name?” Kayla asked, taking a seat next to Sam on the bar.
“Sam,” he said, not concerned he told her his real name. She meant nothing to him. And if he didn’t get out of there soon she would mean nothing to anyone anymore. Sam pushed his whiskey away, standing up.
“Where you going?” Kayla asked, jumping down from the bar stool. She took hold of his hand; the supple feel of her fingertips against his skin was enough for him to gladly head to the bathroom with her.
The lock was busted, Sam drug the wastebasket in front of the door. It was weighty enough to discourage anyone from coming in the room. So much for locks he thought. He ripped his t-shirt over his head, unzipping his pants in a hurry to just get it over with.
Kayla, the innocent looking girl that stood before him, undid her shirt slowly and seductively. Only problem Sam had with this—he wasn’t in the mood to be seduced.
“Just take it off, honey. Now is not the time.” He yanked her shirt, the fabric balling up in his fist. He looked deep in her eyes, running a hand across her jaw line. She loved it. She quickly undressed, pushing him into the bathroom stall. She pushed him down, straddling him quickly. Sam worked his fingers along her hip bones. She was thin and tan and a little too raring to go for him, but he pushed that aside.
“You’re so hot,” she said as she gyrated on his lap, as if she was giving him an erotic lap dance. Sam took hold of her thighs, squeezing the well-built flesh, playing and toying with her. He still wasn’t sure it was the best thing for him to be doing. He had to go back to Delaney. But after the first slip-up there really was no going back. He had already pushed the limits.
He took a firm hold of her neck, his heart pumping wildly in his chest. Looking deep in her eyes, he felt her body loosen up under his spell. He never knew how to explain the calming effects he possessed but they helped in situations like this. Her body grew heavier, causing him to have to support her more than he had intended. He smacked her cheek, bringing her back to life again.
“Go for it,” he demanded, allowing her what she wanted. She quickly guided herself down, letting out a throaty moan. Sam dropped his head back, holding onto her waist as she took complete control. He found his way back to her neck, squeezing tightly, this only caused her to move her hips even quicker.
Sam bit down on his lip, fighting it as long as he could, his hands trembling, his thumb taking on a mind of its own. He felt his grip tighten to the point of no return around her neck. Kayla choked, a pathetic gasp of air sputtering out of her, but she kept moving. Sam squeezed even tighter, letting out a satisfying growl. He pushed her backwards, dropping her to the ground, satisfied.
“Now get up.” He instructed. She did as he asked, rubbing at her throat in a bit of pain. A bit discombobulated. She was having a hard time making sense of what just happened.
Sam gathered his clothes, quickly getting dressed. He was pleased he hadn’t killed her. Yet. He paused, going over his overall feelings. He was a bit tense, not so angry, but he was confident he could make it out of the bar before he lost it entirely.
Kayla crept up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist, her hands running the length of his upper body, gliding over his muscular torso. “Don’t leave. I want more.”
Sam tried prying her away. “You need to go. I can’t promise you that this will turn out the same way the second time.” His insides trembled.
The bathroom door opened, knocking into the wastebasket. “Someone’s in here.” Sam called out.
Kayla fiddled with the zipper of his pants. Egging him on. Sam flexed his jaw, staring down at the blonde who clearly didn’t know who she was messing with. “You have to go, honey.”
She tried again, sending Sam into a frenzy. He grabbed her by the wrist, slamming her against the brick wall, gripping her by the jaw, fuming with rage. “I said go, now!”
He tossed the wastebasket aside, taking off out of the bathroom in a hurry to just get home.
Frankie caught him by the arm, pulling him to the side, “Where you going so quickly?”
Sam pulled away. “You got what you wanted.”
Frankie cocked an eyebrow in misunderstanding as he watched the blonde exiting the bathroom. “She’s alive?”
Sam ran a hand down the back of his neck agitated. “You just be glad that she is. This is a public place. What sense would that make?” He pushed into his dimwitted brother. “Let me guess. You tossed yours in the dumpster?”
Frankie patted his brother on the arm happy they were on the same wavelength.
Agony
“Where did you go?” Was the first question that escaped Delaney’s lips as Sam crawled back into bed with her. He had hoped she would be fast asleep when he returned, this way he didn’t have to explain anything. Lying wasn’t something he ever had to do before her. He could make up anything he wanted, do as he wished. He didn’t have to answer to anyone.
He threw his arm behind his head, staring up at the dimly lit ceiling of his bedroom. “I had a drink with my brother,” he said quietly, releasing a lengthy sigh.
Delaney seemed to be mowing over his newest revelation. She didn’t know much about his brother. “Is everything okay?” She moved in, resting her head against him. Running her hand along his chest, her fingertips enjoying his soft skin, she could feel his heart beating, a thunderous barrage of noise just below the surface.
“Yeah. Everything is fine.” He secretly crossed his fingers, feeling awful that he had been untruthful.
Delaney kissed his cheek. “Do you ever think I’m too young?” She wasn’t even twenty. She was still in college. Almost everybody in her family thought it was unrealistic to be marrying anyone at her age. There were days that her and her mother argued about that exact thing. It made her angry. But she also knew she was old enough to do what she wanted.
“I’m not that much older then you,” Sam said.
“I know, love.” She patted his arm growing quiet.
Sam stared out the window as he stroked Delaney’s hair. Had he made a mistake? Delaney was such a lovely person. He could possibly kill her one day. He never wanted to see anything bad happen to her. He felt ill at the thought of anyone ever hurting her. But he knew that odds were it would be him doing just that if he stayed around any longer.
He loved everything about Delaney, her
emerald eyes blanketed by dark lashes. The natural color of her lips—a soft pink, her creamy skin. She had the most amazing laugh he had ever heard in his entire lifetime. When she laughed he felt like everything was okay in the world. That he wasn’t some horrible guy. That for once someone understood him. And she was never unhappy about anything. Even when she doubted herself she found a way to sneak a quick smile right in. He couldn’t let her go.
***
Frankie tossed his keys on the table that sat next to his apartment door. He was wasted. And a bit on an adrenaline rush from the three girls he had bagged. So much for setting my standards low he thought, tugging his shirt over his head. He tossed it. Taking a beer from the fridge, he took a seat on his couch. Next to the girl that followed him home. He had his fill for the night. He was quite content on going home and sleeping the high off. But he also wasn’t about to deny a girl what she wanted out of him.