I lift my head and let the water pelt down on my face and rinse my hair.
I wish life was easier, but it’s not. And to be honest, it never has been. Even when my parents were alive, it wasn’t easy. Every day seemed like I had to fight for anything and everything.
Sighing, I know I need to get out of the shower. I never take long ones. It’s too easy to think and remember. But this hot water feels so good, and the longer I stay in here, the more I put off dealing with Axel. My stomach flutters at the mere thought of him.
I need to hate him. What is he expecting from me? After I turn off the water, I reach for a thick, long black towel. Bringing it to my face, I try to form a plan. I can’t stay here, can I?
I’m not sure what I want to happen. Except that deep inside I know that this is where I want to be.
Folding the towel, I hang it up and dig inside my trash bag for my makeup bag.
Jesus. This counter is so clean I can see my reflection. All that sits on the black tile is a bronze toothbrush holder. Unzipping the bag, I take out my perfume and some body lotion, along with my face cream. Everything else remains in the bag, which I tuck away in the corner. Maybe I should put it in his buffet, but he might have personal stuff in there and I’m not a snoop. As soon as I think it, I want to snoop. I suck.
I return to my trash bag and slip on some clean leggings and another short dance shirt. No matter how much I search, it’s clear this bag does not contain my bras or underwear.
“Great.” I pat on my moisturizer and some pale pink lip gloss and figure that’s good enough. My hair, on the other hand, is a disaster. I need my brush and I have a bad feeling I left it. So, I run my hands through it as best I can, then pin it back as a low bun.
“Food’s here.” Axel taps on the door as I apply my French vanilla perfume. My mother’s best friend from childhood sends it to me once a year on my birthday. She’s wealthy and spends most of her time in France, so I guess she feels obligated to at least do something for her dead friend’s daughter once a year. I don’t use much, but I’m getting low. My birthday is next month, and I wonder: if the couple gets my pretty pink package, will they let me know, or will they steal it?
“Whatever, it’s only stuff,” I whisper, then shout, “Thank you.”
I guess we’re back to being polite to each other. I reach for my garbage bag and my dirty clothes. Taking a quick look to make sure everything is perfect, I open the door and almost scream.
“Axel.” I gasp, as his eyes sweep my body and inspect my face.
“I’m hungry,” he says, his voice gravelly, and my stomach flips.
“Your place is so clean. I was trying to make sure I kept it that way.” I close my eyes, wondering if I’ll ever be able to talk to him without cringing.
He looks around and shrugs. “I like things a certain way.” His hand grazes mine as he takes the garbage bag from me and opens up a door.
It’s a fairly large closet, but instead of clothes, it seems to house more guitars and maybe a keyboard? I don’t know—it’s dark, but the man likes instruments.
“No drums?” I tease as I go on my toes to peek over his shoulder. He turns with a grin that slowly morphs into that smirk that makes my heart race.
“In another closet.”
Slowly I lower myself as his eyes travel down my legs to my feet. I suspect he likes it when I’m on my toes.
“Let’s eat.” He closes the door and his hand drops to my back. His warm touch on my bare skin sends what seems like an electrical charge to my core and I shiver.
This is ridiculous. What am I going to do? Looking at him makes me want to excuse myself to the bathroom so I can ease the achy fullness I feel around him. It’s like I’m hormonally off; I’ve never been like this before. One minute, he’s saying something awful, and the next, I’m ready to beg him to kiss me again.
The smell of In and Out is freaking amazing. It’s fresh yet greasy… fresh greasy! My stomach growls at the onion and salt smell. Breathing in, I hold it and say, “Animal style?” Is there any other way?
He winks. “Here.” He hands me a bottled water and sinks into the black couch.
He’s so self-confident. His very presence demands respect. Yet I try not to look at him while he drinks his beer.
Jeez, how can I eat with him so close? This sucks—I love In and Out.
“Sit and eat, Antoinette,” he says.
I sit and reach for my burger. The special sauce is dripping down the side with a glob of cheese. I grab a fry and soak it up, then watch him as I stick the whole delicious bite in my mouth.
“Mmm, salt. Sweet salt, the good-tasting kind of salt.” I can’t help but smile as he laughs.
“Yep, this is nothing but good for us.” He leans over, his arm brushing my leg, and hands me a milkshake.
“I hope it’s chocolate.”
“I guess you’ll have to try and see.” He brings the shake to my lips. I suck in the thick, sweet chocolate and let out a laugh.
“Eat up. I’m almost done.” He turns back to his burger, which he inhales in two bites. Not that I take much longer. I don’t think I’ve tasted anything better and it has nothing to do with Axel.
He leans back, one arm spread behind me on the top of the couch. “How old are you, Antoinette?”
The burger I was devouring threatens to come up. I pretend I have to chew, which I do, but what should I say?
Somehow, I get the feeling being older is better than my real age, so I grab the shake and suck as I say the first number to come to mind.
“Twenty-five.” It’s so bad—even for me it sounds bad—and there goes my happiness.
He leans forward and grabs his cigarettes from the table. Still sucking on my milkshake, I peek over, hoping he’s moved on. But as he lights one, his blue eyes watch my every move.
And I choke. Maybe it’s panic, but all I know is I’m trying not to cough so badly my eyes are watering and all he does is lean back and watch.
“Maybe have some water.” He inhales again.
I wave my hand in front of my mouth and clear my throat, kind of wheezing out, “The shake went down the wrong pipe.”
“How old are you?” His voice sounds like gravelly goodness.
“I told you, and why do you care? How old are you?” I stand to clear away the food wrappers only to have his viselike grip around my wrist jerk me back down.
“You’re a shit liar. I told you that earlier. As to why I want to know…” He leans forward, takes a drag of his cigarette, and puts it out in some ketchup. Exhaling, he focuses his sapphire eyes on me and I stare at his full lips.
Then he kills me.
“I want to fuck you, but I need to know your age.”
I’m dead. My body is on fire and I swear to God, I can’t breathe again.
Holy shit.
“I…” Puffing out some air, I say at last, “I’m twenty.” I’m not truly lying—I’ll be twenty soon. I look over at him to see his thoughts.
Which is a mistake. He’s not happy. I can tell by his disappointed face. He’s not going to touch me. I feel him pull back. This should make me happy. Instead I have to bite my lower lip not to cry.
“That’s almost the same age as my sister, Antoinette. I’m thirty-three.” He sounds pissed, almost bitter.
“That’s why I lied and said twenty-five.” I stand again and start to pick up the mess from dinner.
“Perfect.” He grabs another cigarette. For a guy with a body like his, he sure does smoke and eat a lot.
“Why are you stripping?”
“I have no money.” I’m getting flustered. What does he think, that I’m making all this up?
“Look. I don’t like people asking me questions.” I keep shoving all the trash from dinner into the white-and-red In and Out bag.
“Why? What are you hiding?” he retorts.
“None of your business.” I straighten back up. “I told you my age. If that’s not good enough, then I guess I can sleep o
n the street tonight.” I look around for a garbage can.
The room is silent. I fight looking at him. If I do, I’m doomed.
He snorts. “I’m going to bed.” Then he stands, taking the bag from my hand and tosses it in the trashcan.
“Let’s go,” he demands and my stomach twists like I’m about to throw up.
“What?” I clear my throat and glance around his huge room.
“I’ll sleep on the couch. I don’t want to bother you. Sometimes I move around a lot.” My cheeks are on fire and I’m sure my chest is flushed.
“No, you’re coming with me.” He drops his cigarette in the sink and runs water over the tip.
“I can’t.” This is horrible. Besides the day my parents died, this is the second worst day of my life. The humiliation alone is enough to kill me.
“You can.” He states it like it’s a done deal.
Holy fuck.
“I’m gonna lose myself tonight in that cunt of yours. In the morning, I’ll get you a place to stay.”
“I can’t,” I whisper, backing away, but there’s nowhere to go as my back hits the wall. I don’t have time to think when he’s standing so close. The heat from his body seems to radiate into mine.
“What’s wrong with you?” He’s frowning and his eyes, oh God, his eyes are so blue and he’s looking at me with such… disappointment. I can take anything but that.
Before I can think, I say, “I’m a virgin. Okay? Are you happy?”
AXEL
“What?” I hiss. She did not just say she’s a virgin.
If this wasn’t so incredibly fucked up, so fucking insane, I would be laughing. This is like something out of a bad B movie, the ones that you scream and laugh at, threatening to turn them off, but you don’t because you have to see how they’re going to end.
She shakes her head yes. Her curls are coming loose, framing her face so that she looks like an angel. Instead, she might just be the antichrist, a siren sent to seduce then kill me.
“You want me to believe that you are a twenty-year-old virgin? Who happens to walk in off the streets begging to strip?”
She goes to open her mouth, but I put both hands up around her head caging her in and her mouth snaps shut.
“I told you before you’re a shitty liar.”
Whatever her game is, I don’t have the time or the patience to play. I push off and don’t look back as I enter my bedroom.
Stripping off my clothes and tossing them, I’m too tired to care if they’re on the floor. I turn off my light and tumble into bed, not caring where she sleeps. Tomorrow, I’ll get rid of her.
As I close my eyes and drift, my fucked-up day thankfully melting away, my fucking light bursts on.
“Axel. I told you something that I have never… oh my God, you’re naked.” She covers her eyes with her hands.
“Christ,” I yell.
“I can’t… oh God.” She peeks through her fingers and screams, “I think I should go. I…”
“Antoinette,” I growl at her. “Put your hands down.”
Biting her lip, she drops them as if she’s in a ballet and this is her dramatic finish. She focuses her big eyes on my face, yet they keep darting to my cock.
“I was coming in to tell you that I’m leav—Oh my God, you are huge.” Her breathy voice makes me grow harder.
“Sweetheart, I’m only human. Stop looking at him.”
“Oh dear,” she moans slightly.
I almost take pity on her. Almost. That would be the nice thing to do, reach over and cover him up. But I’m far from nice. Lacing both hands behind my head I watch at how she seems to have given up on trying not to look and is now full-on staring. She wrings her hands together. She’s a little freak who acts like a Goody Two-shoes.
I like it.
“Come here,” I demand.
Her eyes bolt to mine. The battle she’s having is real. Christ, this girl needs to be fucked and fucked hard. She’s so turned on by watching me that her nipples look like they’ll pop out of her small top.
“I wasn’t lying,” she rasps. I reach down with one hand and rub my hard balls, pushing more blood into my cock.
“Which part? The needing to be married because you’re religious or that you’re a virgin?” My nostrils flare as she licks her lips, her tongue almost begging me to suck on it.
“The virgin part—”
I smile at her and she shifts her legs as if she’s uncomfortable.
“I don’t fuck virgins. And the way you’re looking at me, Cookie, makes me think you need to be fucked… hard. You sure you want to stick with that story?”
A small moan comes from her mouth and suddenly I don’t care what her deal is. Everything has changed and the time for stopping is gone.
“Come here,” I say, and like a good girl she does. She stops at the side of my bed. Her eyes are almost slits as she gazes at me like a cat in heat. Her body is glowing and I haven’t even touched her.
“Sit.”
Her eyes dart to my face, but her primary focus is on the thick erection in my hand, which I continue to stroke.
“You like watching me, Antoinette?”
She swallows and slightly nods. I grin. “Good girl.” My hand tightens on my cock. I could jet off right now, but I think I’ll wait and shoot my load down her pretty throat. As I breathe through my nose and hold my cock for her to inspect, a perfect drop of semen seeps out of the tip.
“Lick it.”
Wide-eyed, she stares at me, her eyes like giant amethyst orbs. And I know that this is the one who might be my downfall. She leans her head down, her lips hovering at my tip. I can feel her breath as she summons her nerve.
Is she playing or is all that naivete real? Right now, I couldn’t care less as I watch her lips wrap around the rim of my dick. And then she sucks. Just enough to make my eyes roll back in my head, enough to know that I’m not letting her go until I’m ready. I fight the need to grab her, thrust her head all the way down onto my thick cock.
That can come later.
“Up,” I say. She pops off and I stroke her cheek.
“Take off your leggings, baby.” She blinks at me but again obeys and my cock leaks again.
“No panties?”
“I didn’t have that bag.” Her voice is raspy.
“Get on the bed.” She hesitates.
I sit up and reach for her, easily picking her up by her small waist. She gasps and spreads her legs, her hands reaching for my chest as I make her straddle me.
“Wait, Axel.” She tries to scramble away.
“Shh, I’m not gonna fuck you.” I hold her hips so she can’t move. She’s on her knees and her waxed cunt taunts me. But I meant it. I’m not putting my cock inside her tonight. Now my tongue and finger, I can’t guarantee.
“Did you decide to do this? Or did Crystal make you wax everything?”
“Crystal said everything,” she whispers, her face turning a deeper pink. “I’m nervous, Axel.” Her nails dig into my chest.
“I know.” I reach up to rub her lips with my thumb as I stroke her neck. “You don’t have to be nervous. I’m gonna take care of you.” Her entire body relaxes, and I don’t think I have ever wanted a woman like I want her.
This one is mine.
“You aren’t going to… you know…”
“Shh.” I roll us over so she’s lying on my pillow. “Spread your legs.” Our eyes meet and she doesn’t move. I lean up and stand, frowning at her.
“Open.”
She’s panting slightly but looks at me and slowly opens her legs.
“Oh God.” She puts her arm over her eyes.
“Good girl,” I praise her as she licks her lips.
“Take off your top. I want to see those tits.” She groans again but sits up, throws off her top, and lies back on the pillows.
She’s aroused and she’s not lying: I think she’s a fucking virgin.
I’m sure I’ll regret this later, but a nuclear bomb could go o
ff and even that wouldn’t stop me.
“That’s it, baby, let me see this glistening pussy.”
She moans and it’s like a drug.
She’s mine.
“Take your finger and fuck yourself.” I reach down to my cock, which is so hard it’s almost painful.
“What?” She leans up on her elbows.
“I said fuck yourself.”
Her eyes dip to my cock as I slowly stroke up and down. Her lips are at the perfect level for me to grab the back of her head, but I need her to do what I say, plain and simple.
“I don’t think I can with you watching.” She bites her bottom lip and starts to close her legs.
“You can. Do you want me to walk you through it?”
She shakes her head no. “I want you to do it,” she whispers.
“No.”
Her eyes bolt to mine. “Open your legs.” And before she can react, I grab her ankles, causing her to gasp in surprise, and spread her legs.
“Oh God.” She goes to move but stops as I move inside her legs.
“Wait… you said…”
“I said to fuck yourself.” Our breathing is harsh as I spread her open.
“Now take your finger and rub that clit.”
She hesitates.
“Now, Antoinette.”
When she looks at me, her eyes are like blue fire. She reaches down and uses her middle finger to rub circles on her wet pussy.
“Fuck, you’re dripping wet. Rub on your clit, only your clit.” She does exactly what I say. My cock is next to the hand she’s using to circle her plump, pink clit.
“Faster, baby.” I jerk her up, somewhat at war with myself. I want her to get herself off, but the fucking need to claim and fill her up with my cock is making me question that.
“Look at me,” I hiss, needing to see her come. After I watch her unravel, she can suck me off.
Her eyes meet mine.
“Move your hand,” I command.
Her eyes change. If she’s scared, she doesn’t voice it. She reaches for the bunched-up sheet to hold on to.
Ignite (The Disciples Book 4) Page 11