“And that’s why we need to move,” I insist. “We’ve been here for too long.”
She turns to face me. Her blue eyes look into mine as she places her hands on my shoulders. She softly smiles at me. “We’re eighteen. Adults. We have three months left of high school and then we’re done. Can we please wait until then?”
I know she’s right. Why leave when we’re almost done with school? Who moves to a new school with only three months left of their senior year? “You’re right, but I just have this feeling,” I say, trying to get her understand. “Like someone is watching us.” I lower my eyes to the floor not wanting to look at her as she judges me.
“Skye, I promise you. No one is watching us. Hey?” I slowly look back up at her to see her smiling at me. No judgment. No concern. Just softness. “He can’t find you here.” She shakes her head. “I’m here for you. And I’ll always be here for you. Three more months and then I’ll follow you anywhere you wanna go. Okay?”
I nod my head. “Okay.” I’m lucky to have ever met Tiffany. She has been my guardian angel in a way. And I know deep down I’m just being paranoid. He can’t find me here. “Three more months,” I say with a smile.
She pulls me in for a hug. “Come on, we gotta get ready for work.”
I open my eyes and sit up. It’s dark. Too dark. I reach up and place my hands on my face to check and see if something is covering my eyes. My heart starts to beat wildly when I realize it’s nothing. I look around, but all I see is blackness. I start shoving and kicking what feels like covers off me. Panic bubbles up in my throat when I get tangled in them, but manage to get free. I stumble out of bed. “Shit!” I hiss as I stab my foot on something. The next step I take, I trip over something. “Fuck!”
“Skye?”
The hairs on my neck stand up when I hear someone growl my name. My legs move faster as I refuse to speak. Then I hit a wall. My hands go to it, and I feel a switch. I flip it quickly, and the room fills with light. I blink at the brightness but sigh in relief.
“Skye? What are you doing?”
“Oh God,” I say breathlessly as I see Brecken sit up in his bed. I place my hand on my chest. “I thought … I …” I thought I was back there. The black forest. I thought he had found me. Captured me. I can’t go back.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, getting out of bed.
I raise my hand to stop him from coming over to me. “Sorry,” I breathe, trying to calm my racing heart. “Go back to bed,” I say pointing over at it. “Just a bad dream,” I lie. I didn’t have a bad dream. I had a dream about Tiffany; nothing about her is bad.
“Why are you sorry?” he asks, just standing there completely naked. His eyes squint as he tries to adjust to the light. His right hand holds a gun down by his side.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” I say, looking away from him. How long has he been home? I had come to his house and turned every light on. I tried to stay awake, to wait for him, but I was so tired that I must have passed out when I laid down.
“It’s okay.” He tosses his gun onto the end of the bed and then runs his hands down his face.
“I had left the lights on,” I say, feeling stupid. I’m just a fucking wimp. How am I gonna get this guy to think of me as more than weak if I can’t even prove that?
“I turned them off when I got home,” he says and then yawns.
I bite my lip nervously as I try to think of what to do. “Maybe I should go stay in your spare bed …”
“No,” he says interrupting me. “Turn that light off and come back to bed,” he says as he turns giving me his back. I swallow nervously trying to think what to do as he picks up the gun and sets it on his nightstand. He crawls back into bed and pulls the covers over himself. He turns and looks at me. “Are you coming to bed?” he asks.
“What time is it?” I ask stupidly as if that makes a difference.
He picks up his phone and checks it. “It’s almost five.”
So the sun will be up soon? What, like an hour? Maybe sooner? I could stay up until then.
“Skye?”
I look up at him. He’s sitting up now. His hands are on his lap with the covers pooled at his waist as he looks at me. His eyes now wide open, and his voice no longer rough. “Come to bed, babe. It’s late.”
Why does he call me that? Why does he say it like it means nothing? But to me, it sounds like everything? “I’m not tired.”
“Bullshit,” he says softly. He runs his hand through his dark hair and his stomach muscles flex.
“Brecken, I …” I swallow. What do I tell him? I’m afraid of the dark? That I’d rather be awake when he comes for me than in the darkness? I run my hand through my hair as I stare at the floor. His shoes and clothes scatter the floor, and I realize that’s what tripped me.
I jump when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I look up to see Brecken now standing in front of me. “You scared me,” I say placing my hand on my white t-shirt. My heart is pounding. “What are you doing?” I ask when he just stares down at me.
“What are you doing, Skye?” he asks, his brows drawing together and his lips frowning.
My shoulders slump and my bottom lip starts to quiver. “I just couldn’t sleep,” I lie. I can’t tell him I’m afraid of the dark. He’ll think I’m crazy. He tilts his head to the side as if confused, or he knows I’m lying.
His hand comes up and he reaches over my shoulder and then the lights go off. I suck in a deep breath as I push my back to the wall. I blink quickly trying to get my eyes to adjust, but it’s nothing but black. I feel my throat close up, and my chest tightens in fear. “Brecken …” I say.
“I’m right here.” A hand lands on my shoulder, and I jump as I let out a little scream. “You’re all right, Skye.” I feel his body press into mine. He takes my hand and then he’s pulling me forward. I try to take in slow and deep breaths to calm myself down. Seconds later, I feel the bed at my legs. “Get into bed,” he orders, and I slowly do as he says.
“Scoot over,” he says, and I find myself scooting to the opposite side of the bed where I had woken up. The farthest away from the light switch.
Like a little child afraid of the Boogeyman that hides under their bed, I pull the covers up to my neck. My eyes go left to right, but all I see is black. I might as well have a blindfold on. A very large and strong arm slides across my stomach and pulls me into a side. I turn myself so my back is to his front. Then I feel his lips in my hair. He gives me a soft kiss, and I feel my body start to relax as I push myself further against him. “You’re safe here, Skye. The alarm is set, and I’m here. Nothing is going to hurt you.”
I want to believe him. I should tell him why I’m so scared, but he’s obviously tired, and five o’ clock is not the time to have this conversation about my past. About how I fear it has caught up with me. Instead, I’ll let him have this. I’ll let him think he can save me. I let out a long sigh as I close my eyes. I can feel his strong heartbeat on my back and his strong muscles as he holds me. And for once in my life, I shut my eyes and think of the man who is protecting me, not the man who is after me.
***
I wake up in the same position I fell asleep in. My back presses against a hard chest and an arm is laying over me. Protecting me. I look up to see light peek through his black curtains, and I yawn. I very gently and slowly remove his arm from over my stomach and then slide out of his bed. I stand there staring down at him. His eyes are closed, but he rolls onto his stomach. The covers pull as he moves his legs, causing them to uncover his back. I look at the scar from the bullet when he was shot in his chest. It must have gone straight through him. And it makes my chest tighten. Who would want to kill this man? He’s a little pushy, sure. He’s a little scary, but he’s also protective. Trusting. He may take things a little too far, like when he wanted me to point my gun at him, but he is also helping me. He is what any woman would want. He’s strong and definitely a guy you could stare at for hours. And not to mention the sex. The guy can fuck. Yet
someone tried to kill him. A woman, nonetheless. What had he done to her? Did she love him and he didn’t love her back? Had she just gotten to a point where if she couldn’t have him no one could? I can see a woman going there with a man like him.
The way he takes control of any situation—it’s actually refreshing to have someone else make the decisions for you. Not to have to think for yourself. I’ve never had that before now. I’ve always had to be on my game and think three steps ahead of myself. That’s what happens when you’re running from a past with a ton of connections.
He shifts again, and I hold my breath hoping I don’t wake him. I’d hate him to wake and catch me just standing here staring at him. Especially after the scene I made this morning about it being dark. He probably laughed at me on the inside or smiled once he turned the light off. Who knows what he was thinking.
He stops moving once again, and I decide it’s time to get out of his bedroom. I make my way into his kitchen and my stomach growls. I open the fridge to see if I can make us something for breakfast. I find some eggs and some bacon. I stand up and turn to close the door when I let out a scream as I drop the bacon and eggs to the floor. “Brecken,” I say placing my hand on my chest. “You scared me,” I breathe. “Why did you do that?” I demand, getting mad at myself.
I yank some paper towels off the rack and bend down to pick up the eggs that broke. He bends down and grabs my hands, stopping me, and then stands, pulling me up in the process. “What is wrong?” he asks.
I shake my head. “You just scared me,” I say pulling my hands free and going back to clean up the mess I made on his kitchen floor.
“And this morning? What was that?”
“I told you. I had a bad dream,” I say standing. I walk over to the trash and throw them away.
“You’re lying to me,” he growls. “You’re afraid of something. What is it?”
I spin around to face him, and I’m thankful that he at least put boxers on since he got out of bed. I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Why are you doing this?” I ask.
“Don’t do that.” He takes a step closer to me.
“Do what?”
“Don’t change the subject.” His body is up against mine now, and he reaches up, placing a hand in my hair. “Tell me what is going on with you, Skye.”
I hang my head and take in a shaky breath. “You’re right about me,” I say with shame.
“Right about what?”
“I’m afraid,” I admit and look up at him. I swallow nervously. “I’m afraid that we won’t catch Tiffany’s killer. I’m afraid that I lost my best friend.” Tears start to sting my eyes. “I’m afraid because I will never get to see her again.” Not a total lie, but not the total truth.
“I know you’re afraid, babe. But I’m here for you.”
“Stop,” I snap and take a deep breath. “Stop calling me babe,” I say with a heavy sigh. I turn around giving him my back. “I have to go,” I say not really knowing where I’m going. I just have to get out of here. I have to run. That’s what I do.
I walk into his bedroom and pick up my bag from the corner. I place it on the bed and grab a pair of jeans out of it. It’s ripped off the bed in the next second. I spin around to see it in Brecken’s hands. “Please, don’t do this,” I say not having the energy to fight him. Not now.
“You’re not leaving,” he says flatly
“Why not?” I demand. “I don’t belong here.” You’re gonna get yourself killed if I stay.
“Yes, you do.” He drops my bag to the floor. I go to lean down and get it, but he kicks it out of my reach. “Brecken …”
“You want to challenge me again?” he questions with a raised brow. Yeah, we know I lose every challenge against him.
“I want to leave,” I say ignoring that question.
“Okay, let’s talk about that.” He takes a step toward me. “Why is your initial reaction to run?”
“Stop, Brecken,” I snap. He doesn’t.
“What are you running from, Skye?”
“Nothing,” I growl.
“You’re lying.” He reaches his hand out to my face, but I dodge it and take a step back. “You’re keeping secrets from me.”
“I’m not.” I fist my hands down by my side.
I take another step back, and his bed hits my knees. Fuck! I go to shoot around him, but his arm comes out, wraps around me, and then I’m lying on my back on his bed while he is on top of me. He hovers above me as I breathe heavily. The muscles in his arm bulge as his hands are next to my shoulders with his legs straddling mine. I find my eyes lowering to look over his muscular chest and tattoos.
“You need to know something about me, Skye,” he says evenly. His voice not sounding as mad as he is tense with his body over mine.
“What’s that?” I ask breathlessly before licking my lips. My eyes travel back up to meet his dark ones.
He lifts one hand off the bed and places it under my shirt. I don’t even have a thought of stopping him as he trails his fingers up and over my ribs until he cups my breast. I inhale sharply as he massages it. My body softens under his, and I part my lips to suck in a breath. “I believe that a man should take care of a woman,” he says softly as his hand gets rougher on my breast. “And you are a woman who needs to be taken care of.” I whimper. “Aren’t you?”
I nod my head as I arch my back. God, why do I let this man have so much power over me? Why do I become a slave to him?
“Say it,” he demands.
I swallow. “I need to be taken care of.” Please, take care of me.
He lowers his head, his lips touch mine, and he whispers, “Tell me I’m your man.”
“You’re my man,” I say as my hands come up to his chest. I feel them flex as he shifts his knees. They spread mine apart.
“And what does that make you?” he asks as his lips leave mine. They trail down to my neck, and I arch my head back giving him easier access.
“It makes me yours,” I say. My hand on his chest slides down over his abs and then I slide it into his boxers. I wrap my hand around the base of his hard cock and begin to stroke him.
“And what do I get to do to you?” he asks as his hand leaves my breasts. It slides up between my breasts, and he wraps his hand around my throat. It pulls my shirt up under my arms as it tears against my skin.
“Anything you want,” I say stroking him faster.
His hips thrust along my hand, and he lets out a growl. “God, I wanna fuck you so bad, baby.” I whimper. “I want to fuck you so hard that you can’t walk afterward.” His hand tightens, and it takes my air away. I close my eyes as if his hand alone is a drug that gets me high. His lips trail back up my neck to my ear. “I wanna fuck you so hard that you can’t walk out on me,” he admits shamelessly, and if I could talk, I would beg him to do just that.
He pulls his body up and off mine as his other hand pushes my panties to the side. He slides a finger between my lips. “I think you want that too.” He sighs. “You’re so fucking wet.”
I remove my hand from his boxers, and they come up to his hand that is still around my neck. I can’t breathe, and I’m starting to see dots. I don’t wanna pass out; I want him to fuck me.
He loosens his grip, and I suck in a ragged breath and then cough. I look up at him through heavy eyes. He smiles down at me—a slow and sexy smile—then he whispers, “You’re mine.”
Like before, I challenge him. And this time, I’m ready to lose. “Prove it.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
BRECKEN
She just doesn’t realize who I am. Who the fuck she is dealing with. I’m fucking Brecken Hawke. My only goal at the moment is to own her! To fucking make her understand that I’m the only man she will ever need.
I may be setting us both up for failure. ‘Cause if I fail her at finding Tiffany’s killer, then she will hate me. But right now, I have one advantage. My cock. And she wants it just as bad I want her pussy. She wants me to prove that she belongs to me; c
hallenge accepted!
I grip her panties and pull them down and over her legs. I flip her over, and she squeals as I yank her ass up in the air. “On your hands and knees,” I order as I stand and remove my boxers. I crawl back onto the bed and smack her ass.
She cries out and then pushes her ass backward. “That’s what I want,” I say as she wiggles it up in the air. I can see her pink pussy and her ass. She’s shaved smooth, and I find myself running a finger through her wetness and then up between her ass cheeks. “Have you ever been fucked in the ass?” I ask roughly.
“No,” she responds with a gasp, and then she starts to pull away from me.
I reach out and dig my fingers into her hips to keep her in place. I smile at the thought that no one has been there. I wanna be there. I wanna be her first. I want to own every part of her. I want to bring her pleasure, but I also want to punish her. She just keeps trying to run from me, and that just won’t do.
“Relax,” I demand as she continues to try to wiggle away.
She drops her head and chest to the bed and sucks a breath as her hands fan out to her sides, and she digs her nails into the sheets. “Please,” she begs, and I smile. This is where I want her. This is where I need to keep her.
“Please, what?” I ask, removing one hand from her hip and slapping her ass again.
“Don’t.” She shakes her head. “Please don’t.” She begs again, and I wish I could tell her no, but now, I can’t think of anything other than having it.
I run my fingers over her pussy again, and it’s wetter than it was a second ago. She likes this. I run it over her ass, and she whimpers, digging her head into the comforter.
My heart pounds in my chest, and my breathing is labored. What is she doing to me? Why can’t I control myself with her? Why do I want to save her, yet tear her in half at the same time? What does that mean? She’s become an obsession that I feel in my bones. It’s a need that I can’t explain, only take.
Obsession (Seven Deadly Sins Book 2) Page 23