“They sound close,” I say, hearing the fear in my voice.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promises, and with the way he’s looking at me, I believe him.
“I hope they give you a raise then, because I’m sure protecting a scared guest isn’t in your job description. You’re supposed to be scaring us,” I joke.
He gives me a lopsided smile, showing the tips of his elongated canines while his hands are casually gripping his slim hips. Damn, why is that so hot?
The room looks like a bomb went off in here, with clothes strewn about, makeup in various places, and beds unmade, including my own. I rarely make my bed even at home. With my job at the nursing home, I barely have enough energy to eat dinner and brush my teeth before I spill into my plush full-sized bed and conk out for the night. Being a nurse is exhausting work.
I go to the small window, intent on opening up the shutter that’s obstructing my view on what’s happening out there, but Hendricks blocks my way.
“What gives?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
“If I’m to keep you safe, I’m going to need you not to look at what’s going on out there,” he says firmly. His jaw is set, and his eyes implore me to understand. And even though I don’t, there’s a part of me that wants to trust him, but I have no idea why. I just met him. He could be a cold-blooded murderer for all I know, and here I am alone in this cabin with him. A perfect opportunity for a murderer to go and do what murderers do best.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Lydia,” he says like he can read my mind. He steps into my space, crowding me into the wood paneled wall behind. My back is flush against it as I look up at him, taking in his broad shoulders, jet-black hair that falls over his forehead and shrouds his ocean blue eyes. He’s stunning.
My gaze lands on his mouth, tracking the lip piercing there and remembering the cool taste of metal against my lips.
“Are you scared, Lydia?” He asks, putting his hand gently along my collarbone, sliding it up my neck to cup my chin. His touch is gentle yet firm. It’s clear he knows exactly the kind of effect he has on me.
My heart hammers wildly against my ribs like a bird stuck in a cage. The sound from outside seems to dim as I stare up at him, wanting his mouth on mine.
I forget everything in that moment, only thinking of the space between our bodies.
“No, I’m not scared,” I say, licking my lips. And for once I know that those words are true. I’ve spent the entire time here feeling terrified, but now here I am face to face with an objectively frightening, but hot scare actor, and fear is the furthest thing from my mind. The taste of him still lingers on my tongue, and I know I want more.
“You should be,” he whispers leaning down so his mouth is at the same level as my ear. He pulls me to him then, landing a searing kiss on my lips.
This kiss is different than our first.
Without the prying eyes of people around us, it becomes deeper and more animalistic by the second. His hands are wound tightly into my hair and our bodies are smashed together. I can feel his growing length pressing against my stomach all hot and long and begging to be played with. I want to feel him inside me, filling me up. My leg wraps around the back of his hips and he brings a hand down to my ass, grinding himself against me. My panties grow wet as he thrusts, pushing my back into the wall.
He growls into my mouth as he finds the hem of my dress.
“Take this off,” he demands, tugging at the thin fabric and letting my foot slide to the floor for stability.
It’s a halter dress, so I lift my hands to the back of my neck and pull at the knot I’d tied there earlier. It slips off my form easily, pooling at my feet.
Hendricks’ eyes go wide as saucers as he takes me in.
I’d chosen to go braless for the evening but still have my boy short underwear on covering my lower half.
His eyes roam every inch of my body, stalling where the only scrap of fabric is left.
“You won’t be needing that anymore,” he says, grabbing it in his hand. One second my underwear is on me, and the next it’s ripped clean off. He drops the tattered remnants onto the floor and takes in how wet he’s made me with a satisfied smirk on his stupidly handsome face.
“What?” I ask, feeling my old insecurities rearing up as he looks at me. The voices of old lovers is always the loudest at intimate, vulnerable moments like this, when I want to trust myself with someone new, but the old habits want to tear any possibility down before there’s an opportunity to get hurt again. It’s something I’m not proud of and wish I could just waltz around with the confidence of a goddess, but unfortunately, I’m a mere mortal with flaws and all, and this is one of them.
“You’re so fucking stunning,” he says in a way that makes my shoulders relax and my already pounding heart, pound even harder. Those words shouldn’t mean as much as they do, having just met this guy, but they seem to heal a broken sliver of my psyche all the same.
“Let me taste you,” he says, kneeling before me and opening my legs. Even though his words sound like a demand, it also sounds like a question. Like he’s giving me a choice to say no and walk away if I want to. But I don’t. I want him to keep looking at me the way he is and make me feel good.
I’ve been living my life on autopilot, but I realize this fucked up place, and this hot as hell guy make me feel alive. And I think I really like that.
“Yes, please,” I answer both as a plea and a prayer.
He brings my leg up over his shoulder and presses his thumb against my clit. The contact sends a jolt throughout my body, and I clench up.
