by Tiana Cole
I threw the pillow at him, hitting him square in the head. The pillow bounced to the floor, the rat undeterred. As he neared me, he grew larger, and his head lulled to the side at an awkward angle.
Its face started to melt away, leaving an exposed skull, but the flat, dead eyes remained.
It was the rat from the mail, risen from the dead and coming at me as the skin continued to melt away from its body until only the eyes and tail were left on the skeletal remains.
I screamed, blood-curdling screams of horror, back pressed into the corner, hands up over my face to protect myself as he lunged off the bed hissing and snarling at me.
His body collided with mine, shaking me roughly and calling my name, skeletal jaw opening wide to let out the sound. I screamed and screamed, pushing away at the rat’s hands and trying to melt into the wall and out of this hell.
The light switched on, and the room was flooded with bright light from the overhead fixture. I blinked, surprised to see Taylor standing there, hands gripping my forearms, mouth moving while I screamed and screamed.
I closed my mouth, looking around in confusion at the scene around me. My bed was back where it belonged and I was in the corner.
And there was no rat.
“Zeya, Zeya. It’s just a dream.”
I blinked, and things suddenly made sense. The growing rat, the melting skin and his ability to run on two legs. It was just a dream.
Taylor was still holding me by my forearms, his face etched with concern as I struggled to put reality back into place. That’s when I noticed his cheek was an angry shade of red.
“Taylor, what happened to your cheek?” I asked, pulling one hand free to reach out and touch the tender spot.
“You happened,” he said without a hint of anger.
“What?”
I was shocked. I didn’t remember connecting with anything in my dream.
“You flung your fist through the air wildly and it hit me in the face.”
I looked around, and there it was; the pillow I thought I’d thrown at the rat was sitting in its rightful place amongst my other pillows. I hadn’t thrown the pillow, what I’d actually thrown was a punch.
***
“Oh Taylor, I’m so sorry,” I said, and I meant. I felt awful.
“It’s all right, really. I should know better than to run face first into a fist like that.”
He was chuckling, and I realized that he honestly thought it was funny. At least he had a sense of humor about it. But with each passing moment, his face was getting redder and it looked like it might bruise. His good humor couldn’t assuage my guilt.
“Can I get you some ice or something for that?”
“Ice would be great. Are you okay? You scared the shit out of me. I thought someone was in here attacking you.”
“It was just a dream. I’m fine now.”
“Seemed more like a nightmare to me, but I’m glad you’re all right.”
He followed me out of the room to the kitchen. I opened my freezer, a little embarrassed at how sparse it was.
“I knew I was going to be out of town for a while, so I didn’t stock up on anything,” I said, feeling self-conscious.
“I’m only looking for ice, not judging the contents of your freezer.”
I reached into the back, grabbing a bag of frozen peas and closing the freezer door. I wrapped a thin hand towel around the bag and pointed at the couch.
“Sit down,” I said, “I’ll put it on for you.”
He didn’t argue, just sat down on the sofa and leaned his head back. There was a bruise forming just below his eye and it looked like it would be ugly and purple the next day.
“Stop pouting, I’m fine. It’s just a little bruise.”
“I know, I just—”
“Enough about the bruise. What were you dreaming about?”
I was hoping that he wouldn’t ask.
“Nothing,” I lied.
“That’s not true. I’m sure I can guess, but I’d rather hear the truth from you.”
I sighed. I really didn’t want to admit it, but I was scared. Hence the dream. But Taylor was no fool and had already guessed. Better to come clean on my own.
“I was dreaming about the rat. It’s not that I’m scared, it’s just that the rat was so gross,” I hurried to add.
“Of course you were scared. Someone sent you a dead rat in the mail. Any normal person would be scared. There’s no shame in that.”
“Maybe not for you.”
I peeled the ice pack away from his face and checked the bruise. It was still there, but it was a lighter shade of red than it had been. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad tomorrow.
“Why don’t you just admit you’re scared?”
“Because I don’t want you turning into a knight in shining armor and trying to save me.”
“Why not?”
He pushed the bag away, setting it down and looking me in the eye when he spoke.
“Because I can take care of myself.”
I was feeling defiant again, and a little defensive. I’d worked so hard to be self-sufficient and strong; admitting fear felt like a betrayal of everything I’d done to become the woman I was today. Zeya Sparks didn’t get scared.
“Being able to care for yourself is good, but that doesn’t mean you have to. And it doesn’t mean you’re in it alone. I’m not saying that I can fix this, but I’m here for you.”
He reached out, hand cupping my cheek as he spoke.
“It’s okay to be scared. I’m scared, too. I’m so afraid some psycho is going to hurt you and I won’t be able to stop him.”
His hand was trembling, and I could tell he was being completely honest and upfront. He really was worried for me. I searched his eyes, wondering how he’d gotten so close. His face was inches from mine, hazel eyes so concerned.
He rested his forehead against mine. The gesture was so tender it undid me. Taylor was your typical alpha male; a man who never heard the word no and wouldn’t have accepted it if he had. His biggest motivation in life had been his desires, his wants, his needs. Yet here he was, sitting on my secondhand couch in my cramped living room, open and vulnerable. Even then, he still had this air about him, a strength that was there, regardless of how his fingers trembled.
His strong hands were gentle as they caressed my cheek, wiping away a single tear I didn’t realize I’d shed.
“I’m scared,” I whispered, too afraid to say it aloud.
“I am, too. I want to get you a bodyguard. At least for the next few weeks, until this calms down a little.”
“I don’t want a bodyguard.”
“I know.”
He was going to hire one anyway; I could hear it in his voice.
“Fine.”
I didn’t move, just sat there, practically nose to nose with him, the scent of him so enticing, his gentle touch so sweet.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, pulling me out of my reverie and back into the moment.
“Just how sweet you are, even though you’re stubborn and bossy. It’s an interesting mix.”
Taylor chuckled, the sound low and soft. Something stirred within me, but I pushed it away. He was too close, and my self-control was wearing too thin. There was a heat building within me that I was struggling to hold in check. My room was just down the hall, my bed empty and lonely. His face was still close, his thumb absent-mindedly stroking my cheek while we talked as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“I think you need to leave,” I said, though there wasn’t a bit of conviction in my voice.
“You don’t sound so sure.”
“I’m not, but if you don’t leave, I might do something I’ll regret tomorrow.”
“Why would you regret it?”
“Because you’re my employer.”
“So?”
“So? That’s a big deal to me.”
His lips brushed mine, a wicked smile on his face.
“I could fire you, if it
’s that big of an issue.”
It was my turn to laugh.
“If you think I want to sleep with you more than I want to get paid for my hard work, you’re sorely mistaken.”
“Is it at least a near tie?”
His voice was dark and husky.
“Sleeping with you is in my top five.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Top five?”
“Definitely top five.”
“I’m going to have to do something about that.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
He kissed my neck, then moved lower and kissed my shoulder.
I shuddered with need. I was playing with fire and I knew it.
“Why?”
“Because if you think making love to me belongs anywhere but in your top two, then I need to show you why you’re wrong.”
Chapter 12
Zeya
I squashed the little voice inside of me that was begging me to reconsider. I wasn’t listening to her. I’d been listening to that little voice for far too long. If we both wanted it, what was the harm?
I didn’t believe it, but it didn’t matter. I was horny, he was hot and he was in my condo. There was more to it than that, but I wasn’t ready to consider that my feelings went deeper than just sex.
I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be ready.
Taylor led me to the bedroom, his hand holding mine tightly. He kicked the door closed behind him, pulling me to him for a quick kiss before his hands were on me, slipping beneath my pajamas and caressing my skin. His hands were warm and strong, more rough than I’d imagined they would be, but not too rough.
His lips were on mine, and my fingers threaded through his hair. I felt the back of my knees connect with the bed and I let him guide me down, our lips never separating.
He trailed kisses down my throat, along my neck and over my collar bone. He took his time, lazily working his way around while my hands fisted in his hair. He stopped for a moment and propped himself on his elbow, his eyes falling on my hardened nipples pushing desperately against the fabric of my pajama top.
“So that’s why you had your arms crossed earlier.”
He looked so proud of himself, and I didn’t bother to try to lie. He knew what I’d been hiding, and denying it would do nothing at this point.
“If they wanted my attention, all they had to do was ask.”
He moved, straddling my hips, fingers stroking me through the thin fabric of my night shirt.
When his fingertips crossed over my breasts he stopped, circling each nipple through the fabric. The sensation was all pleasure as the tiny buds hardened even more, excited by his attentions.
He was watching my face and I was watching his, trying to anticipate his next move. I wanted him to take my damn shirt off and touch me, but he seemed content with the way things were going.
He began kneading my breasts, lightly at first, then a little more roughly. I could feel the heat growing between my legs, but he had me pinned so that I couldn’t open my legs to him. Without warning, he used his forefinger and thumb on each hand to pinch my erect nipples through my shirt, giving both a tug at the same time.
I arched my back, trying to push into and escape his attentions all at once, but it was no use. I was at his mercy, and no amount of writhing was going to push him to move any faster.
“Do you like that?”
“Of course,” I ground out through clenched teeth, trying to hold back as my arousal built.
“Are you all right?”
He didn’t look concerned, but rather looked very pleased with himself. To make things worse, he was still tugging and pinching at my nipples, rolling them between his fingers almost too roughly, but the effect was magical.
There was a very real chance that I was about to have the best orgasm of my life with my close on and my legs pinned together by his muscular thighs.
I couldn’t answer. My breath was coming in small gasps and I was struggling to hold onto my sanity. How was it possible that my body was responding to him so wantonly with so little effort on his part? Maybe he hadn’t been overstating his talent in the bedroom.
He leaned down to kiss me again and I met him, my mouth hungry for his. He didn’t release my nipples, but instead continued to torture them sensually without end.
The crotch of his pants pressed against me, and I could already feel his arousal building. He still held my legs together with his, and I longed to wrap my legs around him, to pull him inside me and end this sweet torture.
I moved as much as I could, pressing myself against him and moaning into his mouth.
“You can’t rush perfection, Princess.”
Any other time I would have laughed in his face, but in my current state, frantic with need, I had no doubt that perfection was exactly what he was going to deliver.
His hands slipped under my back, sliding up and taking my shirt with them. The cool air hit my skin and his warm hands cupped my breasts, squeezing roughly, his thumbs raking across the tender flesh and teasing my skin tighter than it already was.
“You like it a little rough,” he said, but it wasn’t a question.
I bit my lip, nodding my answer. He hummed his approval.
“Is there anything else you like I should know about?” he asked, his eyes settling on my bare breasts, licking his lips suggestively.
What was I supposed to say to that? ‘Whatever you have on your mind, yes and yes’? I wanted him, needed to feel him inside of me. I’d been fighting the feeling for so long, I wasn’t sure what I wanted beyond that.
“I just want you.”
He smiled.
“That’s what I wanted to hear.”
Large hands slid down my body, catching the waistband of my silk pants and sliding them off me in one smooth motion onto the floor. He took in the sight of my naked body, hovering above me and still fully clothed.
I’d been fresh out of the shower when he’d shown up at my condo. When his eyes stopped on the smoothness between my legs, he smiled his approval.
His large hands were on my calves, slowly moving up. When his hands squeezed my thighs, he pushed my legs open, eyes locked on the apex of my thighs.
He moved his fingers along my flesh, working his fingers between my folds. He didn’t make any effort to hide his interest, kneeling between my legs and exploring my exposed body openly with his skilled hands.
Deftly, he worked the nub of flesh, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger as he had my nipples. When he tugged, my back arched involuntarily and he chuckled softly.
“I love how your body responds to my touch. I think I might have to spend more than one night exploring all of your charms. You’re beautiful.”
His fingers never stopped working, and I was struggling to hold onto my composure. I felt like I was going to fly apart, the pleasure so good that I was in danger of losing my tenuous hold on my self-control right then and there without him even entering me.
“Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice soft and husky.
“I want you.”
“You want me how?”
“Inside me, please Taylor.”
I was almost shouting at him, struggling to form a coherent thought so I could let him know how badly I needed him.
I sat up as much as I could, grabbing onto the waistband of his pants and undoing the zipper.
“Impatient little thing,” he growled playfully, shoving me back down onto the bed and standing up to remove his clothing.
I watched him pull his shirt over his head, marveling at his chiseled abs and the v-shaped muscles of his hips. He slid his pants down, stepping out of the rest of his clothes in one swift motion.
His body was magnificent and absolutely perfect.
He was on top of me in an instant, erection pressing insistently between my legs, his mouth capturing mine in a tender, drawn out kiss.
“You’re so hot,” he said, cradling my face in his hands and slipping hi
s rigid length inside me.
I gasped, the sensation almost too much after he’d teased me so roughly. His eyes held mine as he pressed deeper and deeper until my body stretched to accommodate him.
When he began to thrust, his eyes still held mine. He felt so good inside me, my head began to fall back, eyes falling shut as my body chased the tension that was building within me.
“Look at me,” he said softly.
I did as he asked, letting myself get lost in his eyes.
“Keep watching me and don’t let go until I tell you to.”
He couldn’t be serious. But even as my mind fought the notion of him asking me to hold off my orgasm until he said so, my body responded, aroused flesh trembling around him with excitement. As tender as he was, he was an alpha male through and through. I was going to have my pleasure, but it was going to be on his terms.
I stared into the depths of his eyes, matching my movements to his and opening myself up to him. I was close to the edge, doing my best to hold off the inevitable until I couldn’t any longer.
He changed up the rhythm, several fast thrusts followed by long and deep ones. I felt my body begging to release. I couldn’t hold on much longer, no matter how much I wanted to please him.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice shaking with need.
“Yes! Please, Taylor!”
I was shouting, but I didn’t care. He was teasing me, holding me on the edge of orgasm and keeping me captive there.
He lowered his lip to my ear, angling his hips to drive even deeper, ragged gasps tearing from my throat with the effort to hold on.
I could feel his breath on my ear when he said, “Now.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I let go of what was left of my sanity, writhing and screaming beneath him as the pleasure overtook me and crushed me to the depths of my soul. I heard him cry out, his movements hot and fast. My skin was on fire, the sensation almost too much as we rode the waves together.
He pulled me into his arms, bearing down and drawing every drop out of me until we both fell back onto the mattress, spent and breathing hard.
“That was amazing,” I said.
“Top two amazing?”
“No.”
“No?”
“I think I may have a new number one.”