Closing out that screen, I tapped the icon for her info page and entered her number into my phone. Then I scrolled through some of her photos. Most were of her and her brother. I recognized him from the image Luca had shown me on his computer. There were also several photos of Austin landmarks. The Stevie Ray Vaughan statue by Lady Bird Lake, along with the guitar statues located on random sidewalks downtown, the view of the capitol building on Congress Ave, and a bunch of candid shots of the homeless sleeping in doorways and along the hike and bike trail.
I wondered what her fascination was with those people. Was it empathy that drove her to take these photos? Or fear of becoming one of them?
Sending the selfies of her that I liked to myself, I swiped around a little more, but saw nothing else of interest, so I set her phone back on her nightstand.
In the glow of the screen, I noticed blood on the back of my hand near my wrist and wiped it on my pants.
Luna continued to sleep, her lips parted and her breath coming in soft snores. I watched her for a while, wondering what she was dreaming about and wishing I could penetrate her mind to see for myself. Her hair was pulled back in a long braid, except for a few wayward strands that had pulled loose and fallen over her forehead. Without thinking, I reached toward her to carefully brush it away from her eyes. My hand shook when I realized what I was doing, and I paused with my fingers barely an inch from touching her. Then I took a deep breath and carefully brushed the strands away from her eyes. I waited for the sick twist in my stomach I always felt when I touched someone, but there was…nothing.
I rubbed the strands between my fingertips. They were soft. So soft. And black as my soul in the darkness. Bending over her prone body, I lifted them to my nose. Her hair smelled freshly washed, with a light, clean fragrance that made me want to undo her braid and gather it all up in large handfuls so I could bury my face in the scent and breathe her in.
When I realized what I was doing, I stiffened. What the hell was she doing to me?
With a sense of something akin to wonder, I bent closer and watched as I let the strands sift through my fingers to settle back against her head. This close, her warm skin smelled delicious. I wanted to run my tongue along her jaw and taste it. Skimming the tip of my nose over the soft skin that covered the side of her throat, I inhaled the scent into my lungs. A low growl rumbled deep within my chest, and I forced myself to straighten before I woke her.
I felt strangely unsettled, my breath fast and erratic, my skin raw and overly sensitive. Blood raced through my veins as I watched her sleep, confused, and yet unable to tear my eyes away. Stumbling backward, I fought to break the bizarre connection tethering me to her, but she held me captive without even trying. I wanted to scoop her up into my arms and take her away from here. Take her home.
But that was crazy.
It was suddenly too much. Desperate to return to my senses, I slammed the palm of my hand against the fastening of my pants, pressing the zipper painfully into my swollen cock. The pain didn’t make me any less hard, but it did distract me enough that I was able to tear my eyes away from her beautiful face.
Not yet ready to leave, I let my curiosity take me across the room and into the bathroom, the one room of hers I hadn’t been in yet. Closing the door behind me so I didn’t wake her, I turned on the light. Beige walls nearly blended into the marbled countertop, which had veins of the same color throughout its creamy surface. Numerous plastic bottles littered its surface. I picked up the first one—a lotion—and brought it to my nose. It smelled like Luna’s skin, and my cock reacted violently. I allowed myself to indulge for a few more seconds before I turned my face away. Setting it down, I checked out her toothbrush, toothpaste, and mouthwash, noting the brands she used. A glass bottle was tucked in the corner. The label read “Dioriviera.” I unscrewed the top and smelled it, wincing and quickly capping it again. I recognized the fruity, floral scent from the day I’d met her. I didn’t like it any more now than I did then. But it was more than that. Something that knocked on the back door of my memories but wouldn’t come through.
I put the bottle in my pocket to dispose of later. I would replace it with something more pleasant the next time I came.
Lifting my eyes to the mirror, I caught my reflection, and the sight made me frown. Blood was smeared across my cheek and hands, and I could see the shiny wetness of it on the black material of my sleeves and the front of my pants. My eyes shifted to the right, where I could see her shower in the reflection over my shoulder. I imagined her in there, water running over her pale soapy skin, dripping from her hardened nipples, and my pulse picked up before I was once again distracted by my appearance.
I cocked my head. I didn’t want her to wake up and see me covered in blood. For one, it would most likely frighten her. And second, she didn’t need to know what she didn’t need to know. There was nothing I could do about my clothes, but if the lights were off, maybe she wouldn’t notice if she did happen to wake. My skin, however, was lighter. Therefore, it would be much more noticeable.
I glanced at the bathroom door. All was quiet in the room beyond it. This idea probably wasn’t the smartest one I’d ever had. I should just leave and come back again when I wasn’t covered in the evidence of my crimes. But the temptation to wash myself in the same place she did was too much to resist.
Unfastening my shoulder holster, I removed it and laid both it and my gun where it would be within easy reach. Next, I unlaced my boots and took them off. My socks followed. Then I pulled my shirt over my head and folded it so the blood spatters were on the inside before I dropped it to the floor, careful to keep it on the tiles where I could easily wipe up any blood that happened to get on them. I unfastened my pants, shoved them off, and laid them on my shirt, along with my boxer briefs.
My cock pulsed in anticipation as I opened the glass door and started the water. As I waited for it to heat up, I opened the cabinet underneath the sink. There was only a box of tampons and a hair dryer. I closed it again, then I checked the temperature of the water in the shower and stepped inside. I didn’t bother to lock the bathroom door, a part of me wishing Luna would wake up and find me here. Although I wondered how she’d react if she did. Would she scream? Would she watch? Or would she join me?
I’d never know if I locked the door.
The spray from the large, round shower head sluiced over me like a waterfall. I let it wash away my sins, tilting my head back to wet my hair and running my hands over my face to remove what I could with water alone. Then I found her shampoo and pumped some of it into my palm. My eyes closed as I lathered up my hair, as close to bliss as I’ve ever been for as long as I could remember. The scent of her hair filled the small space, enhanced by the warm water. I breathed it into my aching lungs as I leaned my head back under the spray of water and let it wash the suds out of my hair and down my body, reveling in the feel of them as they traveled down my bare chest and back, then over my ass and groin. My hands followed the bubbles down my slick stomach, feeling the familiar bumps and ridges of the scars that covered me. I rubbed the scent into my skin, down to my cock, which jutted out from my hips. It was fully engorged, harder than I’d ever seen it.
I gripped myself in my palm with a hiss. It felt so fucking good I had to brace my other hand on the shower wall so my legs wouldn’t collapse beneath me. The warm water caressed my back as I ran my fist up and down my length with slow, languid strokes. Closing my eyes, I imagined Luna on her knees in front of me, her hands tied behind her back and her perfect mouth stretched around my dick. Her blue eyes were on mine, and her soft hair was gripped in my hands as she sucked me down her throat.
Could I handle her lips on me? The feel of her warm, wet mouth and soft tongue?
In real life? I had no fucking idea. But in my fantasy, it was the best fucking thing I’d ever felt in my life.
My fist tightened around my cock as my entire body tensed. I didn’t want to rush this, but fucking hell, this was the sweetest torture I’d ever experienced. And I’d had more than my fair share. My muscles screamed as I stroked faster, harder, my breathing harsh and my hips thrusting forward to meet my hand, imagining now it was Luna’s sweet pussy clenched around me. And I knew it would be sweet. Just like the rest of her. I wanted to taste her. Wanted to feel her mouth on me in return. Feel her hands. The weight of her body.
As the thought of her freely touching me entered my fantasy out of nowhere, ice-cold fear slithered down my spine, locking my muscles and chasing away the pleasure. Moisture that had nothing to do with the shower filled my eyes. With a low growl, I shook away reality, reminding myself this was just a fantasy. Instead, I concentrated on the orgasm tightening my balls and sliding down my cock. It slammed into me so hard I turned my head and bit into my bicep to muffle the sounds erupting from my chest. The copper taste of blood coated my tongue as spurts of white cum shot from the head of my cock, painting the shower wall in front of me and dribbling down my hand. It was the longest orgasm I’d ever had, going on and on until my knees shook and I could barely hold myself upright.
Easier now, I stroked myself a few more times, then gently removed my hand and opened my eyes.
My entire body shuddered, and for a moment, all I could do was stand there in awe, wrapped in the images of us together, until something dark and lonely washed over me, so harsh it nearly sent me to my knees for real this time.
I wasn’t in the fantasy with Luna.
I was alone.
Always alone.
