His Demand: A Dark Small Town Romance

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His Demand: A Dark Small Town Romance Page 10

by Hamel, B. B.


  He kisses me gently then. His hand tightens on my thigh as he presses against me. I turn to him, kissing him harder as a sudden, overwhelming need threatens to drown me.

  I need him. I need him so badly. Everything that’s happened lately, all the insanity, everything, it’s all because of him. But also all the good things, the pleasure, the joy. It’s him, always from him.

  And we should’ve died. We nearly did. I barely got out in time, and only survived because he told me to run and I trusted him. I need him now, my whole body vibrating with the reality of it, I need him so badly I can barely think.

  I push back against him and pull at his shirt. He lets me take it off, though I can feel him wince as I press against one of his many bruises. That doesn’t stop him, though.

  He grabs my hair tight, kisses my neck, and pushed me back against a door. He moves on top of me, unbuckling my jeans, tugging them over my hips. I help him undress me, getting my panties off, as his rough hands slide between my legs.

  He kisses me as he teases my pussy. I can sense the same urgency on his lips as our tongues meet and pleasure floods through my body. We’re survivors trying to feel alive again. I want to take advantage of every second I have left with this man while I can, and if I get more time with him, I’ll make sure I don’t waste it.

  His fingers slide inside of me as I groan. They move fast, in and out, teasing and fucking me. He moves back suddenly, sitting back on the seat, and grabs my hips. He drags me across and I straddle him, sliding back, down along his thick shaft.

  He fills me fast and easily. I groan and slowly start to ride him. We’re in public, in the middle of a parking lot in broad daylight. Although nobody is around and I doubt anyone’s coming anytime soon, there’s still a thrill about this.

  We survived a bomb attack and now we’re fucking in the back of a car in broad daylight. Anyone can catch us, and I almost want them to.

  I ride him faster, grinding down his big cock. He groans and slaps my ass. I love it, riding him faster. He teases my nipples with his tongue, licking and sucking them before kissing me again.

  “I love this tight little pussy,” he whispers. “Fuck, girl, I love this tight pussy more than breathing. I’d take a thousand more bombs if I can keep fucking this tight pussy.”

  I ride him as sweat starts dripping down my body. He grabs my hair, pulls it tight, holding it in his fist. He bites my lip and grabs my hip with his other hand, thrusting up inside me.

  We move like that together, grinding our hips then thrusting, riding and fucking. His lips stay near mine, whispering in my ear, hand in my hair, hand on my hip. He spanks me, hard enough that it stings, and I find that it’s not hard enough.

  Pain’s nothing to me, not anymore. Pain just makes this feel that much better.

  I ride him faster. It’s a frenzy and we’re animals. I’m losing my mind as pleasure overwhelms me, takes me from my body, transports me somewhere else. All the anger and fear is gone, completely gone. It’s just Dawson, his body, his thick cock inside of me.

  His smell, his taste, his everything. It all drives me wild.

  I clench down on him and grind my hips. I can tell I’m getting close. I’m moaning now, louder than I realized, but I don’t care. I ride him faster, panting, nearly out of breath. I want more, so much more, I need it so badly it almost hurts.

  Coming is like bliss. It rolls through me, explodes and pushes me over that edge. As soon as I start to come, I know it’s what I’ve needed all day long. I groan and move my hips faster. He grunts along with me, fucking me hard, rough, not holding back, his big cock slamming inside my pussy.

  He comes a moment later. I feel him filling me as my orgasm starts to pass. A fresh wave of pleasure rolls through my skin as he comes, groaning in my ear, growling his pleasure.

  We finish and I collapse against him. We’re out of breath, sweating, panting, holding each other like we’re in the ocean and about to drown. Maybe we are, but it doesn’t matter.

  I have Dawson. He’s here, he’s with me. I’ll do anything he asks. I’ll do anything he demands.

  “I have a plan, little Celine,” he whispers in my ear. “I have a plan and I need you to help me make it happen, love.” He nuzzles up against me, tender yet strong. “It won’t feel good. It’ll be hard. Can you do it, little love?”

  “Yes,” I whisper back.

  I know I’m his, no matter what happens now. I’m not turning back.

  15

  Dawson

  A few hours later, we ditch the truck and stand in the shadow of the biggest grocery store in town.

  I send one text. That’s the first part of my plan. I text the number that Marcus had been messaging me from. I’m not positive he’ll get it, but I’m hopeful. If he doesn’t, we’ll have wasted a night and I’ll come up with something else.

  But if he gets it…

  I type the message and show it to Celine.

  “Hammy’s bar,” she reads, “three tonight. Leave the girl alone. We’ll finish this.” She looks at me, confused. “I thought I was part of your plan?”

  “You are,” I say, taking the phone and hitting send. “We can’t be honest with him though, can we?”

  Marcus answers almost right away. I’m sure he’s been waiting all day for this text.

  “Come alone,” is all he says.

  I nod and slip the phone into my pocket. It’s midnight and although the grocery store is open all night, it’s mostly empty.

  “What now?” she asks.

  “Now we wait,” I say.

  She laughs a little bit, but I can hear the nerves in her voice. “It’s always waiting with you.”

  “Told you. Most of this is waiting. Most of it is boring.”

  “Some of it is explosive, though.” She smiles, trying to sound brave.

  I can see through her. She’s exhausted and terrified. All she wants to do is to go home and forget all this happened.

  But she is brave, that part is real. She’s probably the bravest girl I’ve ever met. I think most people would turn and run the fuck away if any of this happened to them, but not Celine.

  She’s hanging in. She has skin in the game now, and she wants blood.

  I admire that about her. She’s so much like me, it’s shocking. I can’t believe I found this girl, fierce and intense and incredible, hiding away in this small town.

  But I’ve found her now. And I intend to keep her.

  “You still haven’t told me what we’re doing. I mean, we’re not really just going to show up, are we?”

  “Yes and no,” I say.

  She raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  “We’re showing up, all right. But I’m not showing up alone.” I take the gun from my jeans and hold it up, grinning.

  “I don’t think that gun’s going to do much for you,” she says.

  “We’ll see.” I slip it back into my pants and gaze out at the parking lot. “You know, you don’t talk much about yourself.”

  She raises an eyebrow. “Not much to say. I’m boring.”

  “Oh, I doubt that.”

  “My dad left when I was young. My mom got sick when I was in high school. I worked all the time, took care of her, barely got my diploma. When she passed away, I came here.” She shrugs. “That’s pretty much it.”

  “That’s a lot. Not many teenagers have the strength to take care of a dying parent, you know.”

  She sighs, staring up at the sky. “At first, I hated her for it,” she says softly. “I hated myself for hating her. I was just so angry all the time. But then I decided that, you know, at least I got time with her. At least I could be close to her. Not many people can say that. I was close with my mom, really close. She was my best friend.”

  “It must have been hard, starting over,” I say softly.

  “Hardest thing I’ve ever done. Well, second hardest.”

  I nod. I don’t need to ask what the hardest was. “But here you are.”

  “Ye
ah, here I am.”

  “That’s something impressive. You should give yourself more credit.”

  “Maybe.”

  I take her hand and she looks at me. “Really, Celine. You’re very, very strong. One of the strongest people I’ve ever met. It’s… uncanny. It’s impressive.”

  She blushes a little but doesn’t take her hand away. “I’ve just been along for this ride, you know?”

  “Yes, but you also haven’t complained. You haven’t run away. You’ve listened to me, stayed strong, trusted me. Most people wouldn’t be able to do that.”

  She shrugs a little bit. “You’re very persuasive.”

  I laugh gently and pull her close. I kiss her, deep and slow, really tasting her. “I know I am,” I whisper. “Now I need to persuade you to do one last thing for me.”

  She looks at me and doesn’t hesitate.

  “Anything.”

  I smile and hold her tight.

  The hours drag past. Around two forty-five, we start walking over to Hammy’s.

  We don’t talk on the way over. I think we both understand what we’re walking toward. I think she knows as well as I do that we both might not be walking back out.

  Or neither of us will.

  But she doesn’t hesitate. She doesn’t question. We went over the plan, step by step, talked it through, even practiced a bit. I trust her, just like she trusted me.

  Everything hangs in the balance now. It’s all in her hands.

  We reach Hammy’s lot and hang back in the shadows. It’s empty, closed for nearly an hour. I check my watch and take a breath. It’s three now, exactly three.

  My heart beats faster.

  “You’re sure?” she asks me.

  I nod. “I’m sure.” I look at her and take her chin gently. “You’ll be perfect.”

  She smiles, kisses me quickly, and I tear myself away.

  I walk down to the parking lot alone. I know she’s in the shadows still, hiding away. She’ll get into position soon.

  This part of my plan is up in the air, though. I don’t know how he’s going to react when I walk out in to the open. He could just shoot me and be done with it. Part of me thinks he’s going to do just that.

  But no, that’s not Marcus. He’s a cold-blooded killer, but he has the chance to look me in the eyes. I think he’ll take it.

  I stand there for a little while, heart hammering in my chest. I’m just out in the open, waiting like a fucking idiot, praying that everything goes right.

  I’ve given up a lot of control for this. I’m trusting that Marcus won’t just murder me. I’m trusting Celine.

  I close my eyes. I take a breath. And I calm myself.

  There’s a noise over toward the building. I watch as a figure comes around the corner wearing a pair of black trousers and a black turtleneck.

  Marcus looks up at me and smiles as he approaches. He’s holding a gun loosely by his side, a silencer screwed on. I try not to lose my shit at the sight of it, but it’s hard not to panic a little when you see a gun you know is about to be used to kill you.

  “Dawson,” he says and almost sounds happy to see me.

  “Marcus.”

  “How are you?”

  “Not great. How about you? Looks like that bullet didn’t do you in, after all.”

  He laughs lightly. “Squibs. No bullets.”

  “Of course. You always did like theatrics.”

  He smirks and cocks his head. “Did you see it coming, Dawson?”

  “No,” I say honestly. It feels weird, talking to him. “I missed you.”

  He barks a laugh. “I don’t believe you. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

  “Is that why you’re doing this, you think I don’t care about you?”

  “I’m doing this because I want more money and more power and you were in my fucking way.”

  “I would’ve helped,” I say softly.

  “You would’ve gotten in the way. You always trusted too much. You were weak.”

  I take a breath to steady myself.

  Marcus, my breast friend. I mourned him. I shed tears for him.

  I won’t be upset this time.

  I take a step closer to him. The first signal to Celine to get into position.

  Marcus reacts by raising the gun slightly. “Stop,” he says. “You’re alone?”

  “Do you see anyone else?”

  He shakes his head. The parking lot is up against the road on one side and a little wooded area on the other. There are a few dumpsters over near the woods, and I’m praying that Celine is hiding in the shadows, waiting for my last signal.

  “It’s not too late,” I say to him. “Turn and walk away. Let me go. I won’t bother you.”

  “Yes, you will.” He sighs. “I know you, Dawson. You feel betrayed. And you can’t let that sort of thing go.”

  “I can,” I say softly. “For you, at least.”

  He makes a disgusted face. “Stop pretending like we ever mattered to each other. We were business partners, and what I did was just business. This is just business.”

  “That’s not true.”

  He raises the gun higher. “Yes, it is.”

  “Marcus. Don’t.”

  I say this part louder, my eyes wide. I hope the fear is convincing. I mean, the fear is real, but I hope he doesn’t realize that I’m speaking louder for someone else’s benefit.

  Because it’s the last signal.

  Marcus narrows his eyes. “Goodbye, Dawson. Can’t say I’m upset to see you go.”

  As Marcus takes aim, there’s a movement over near the dumpster. I notice it and I can tell Marcus does, too. He looks over, glancing away from me.

  Celine comes charging out from behind a dumpster, the gun held in both hands in front of her, just like we practiced. It takes Marcus off guard, and when he squeezes the trigger, his aim is off.

  Pain bites through my arm. I growl and drop to one knee as Marcus whirls toward Celine.

  Her gun spits fury, shells dropping to the ground, as she fires over and over. Marcus grunts and stumbles backward. His next shot goes up into the air as he loses his balance.

  Celine empties the clip into him. I watch Marcus take at least six bullets to the chest. Her first few shots missed, but as she got closer, her aim got better. And Marcus was too busy thinking about killing me to turn toward her fast enough.

  He drops down to the ground. Celine’s gun runs out of bullets.

  I get up. My arm’s bleeding, but the bullet went through the muscle. I can feel the exit wound.

  I run over to Celine. “Are you okay?”

  She nods, eyes wide. She’s staring at Marcus.

  I take the gun from her gently. “You did good,” I say.

  “Is he…?”

  I look over at Marcus. “Turn away, Celine.”

  She obeys me. She’s a good girl.

  I turn and walk over to Marcus. I check his pulse and find nothing.

  I gently close his eyes and stand.

  “Dead,” I say.

  Celine lets out a low moan. “I killed him.”

  I turn to her and walk quickly to her side. I catch her before her knees give out.

  “It’s okay,” I whisper. “I’ve got you, little Celine. You did so good, so, so good. I love you so much, Celine.”

  She presses her face against my chest. “I love you too.”

  “You did so good,” I whisper, over and over, until she calms down.

  This was Marcus’s fatal flaw. He didn’t trust anyone or anything. He couldn’t imagine that I’d give my gun to Celine and put my life in her hands. He couldn’t imagine that she’d risk herself to kill him before he could kill me.

  He couldn’t imagine he’d get beaten by trust.

  I kiss her softly, running my fingers through her hair. I love this girl, love her more than I ever dreamed. She’s so strong, so incredibly strong, and together…

  We’ll be unstoppable.

  16

  Cel
ine

  Two Years Later

  I stretch and walk over to the windows, throwing them open and looking out at the city.

  Buildings stretch out in front of me in all directions. Huge buildings, some of them old, most of them new. The park is to the west, the city to the east. It’s the most beautiful view I’ve ever had.

  I watch New York City slowly wake up. I flex my fingers, feeling the heavy diamond ring I’ve been wearing since I married Dawson a year ago, wondering idly how things turned out this way.

  It started so innocently. I went home with a man, hoping to start a new chapter. It really started with a body.

  After Marcus, we left Pine Grove. Dawson figured getting away with one murder would be hard enough, let alone two. So we drove east, and Dawson planned the whole way out.

  I smile to myself. Those were innocent times. Fun times, really. We stayed in crappy motels, fucked almost constantly, stopped wherever we wanted. We got lost a few times just for fun.

  But when we got to the city a week later, well, the hard work started.

  There’s a knock at the door, pulling me from my thoughts. I walk over and tug it open.

  Dawson smiles in at me. He looks tired, sweaty, and there’s blood on his shirt.

  “Hello, darling,” I say to him.

  “Morning, love. Did you sleep okay?”

  “I did. How’s our little problem?”

  He makes a face. “All over my fucking shirt.”

  I laugh and let him into our room. He strips off the bloody shirt and tosses it into the sink in the bathroom. I follow him and put my arms around him, feeling his muscular chest. My lips kiss his arm over the scar he got the night I killed Marcus.

  He smiles and kisses me over his shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he says. “We’re all whole.”

  “Good. Omar, too?”

  “Omar is fine, as always. You know that man is bulletproof.”

  “So they tell me.”

  He turns and kisses me hard. I push him back against the sink. He grunts and smirks at me, pulling me closer by the hair.

  “You were right,” he says to me. “Hit them hard and fast. That was the key.”

 

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