14. I Shouldn’t
14
I Shouldn’t
Ever
I blanched, reeling in shock that he would not only willingly give me a knife but would show me how to use it! This terrifying, sadistic, addictive man never let me forget that he was dangerous and unpredictable at the best of times.
I got my bearings and quickly picked up the Swiss Army Knife before tucking it in down the side of my boots. “Thanks for the tip,” I hissed with indignation. A part of me wanted to believe that he was only offering me the blade because he was confident I’d never use it, but an even more fucked part of me knew he hoped I would. I shook those thoughts from my mind, turned away from him, allowing myself to take in my surroundings.
Theron’s home was immaculate, from the eclectic impressionist art that graced the creamy walls to the lush Persian rugs underfoot, muffling the echo of the natural wood flooring. It might not make it into a home magazine, but there was something surprisingly comforting and personal about the chaotic style —mismatched wall sconces cast the Grecian bronze statues on his entry table and warm, flickering light.
When the front door lock clicked behind me, the hairs on my neck rose. It was a healthy amount of fear to have when alone in a house with a man openly stalking you and possibly running black market organ deals. I didn’t allow myself to think about that last part — not too deeply.
“I’ll take this.” He said while pulling off my coat and hanging it on an ornate rack where his own was housed. “Come on, it’s just up here,” Theron said while ushering me up a curving staircase. I shivered as his arm touched my back.
The home was nearly silent, except for our feet on the floor, my boots squeaking from the damp streets. We were completely alone here. Was I naive in believing his assessment that this would not be a good place for a murder? I’m sure I’ve read a book that argued a mansion belonging to a powerful man was, in fact, the best place to avoid suspicion. It’s not as if the cops would follow through with someone such as Theron — an outstanding surgeon and philanthropist.
We took the stairs slowly, alighting on the first floor landing and moving down a narrow halfway. The walls were hung with Victorian era medical textbook images, dissections and anatomy sketches, finely framed. . A museum lamp hung over each — the bright glow on their subject alluring the viewer to take a closer look.
“Are they prints or antique?” I asked. We had paused in front of a roughly sketched picture of a heart.
“They’re originals,” he said with pride evident in his tone. Theron pointed at the one that had caught my eye. He stepped beside me, chest pressing into my back and filling me with warmth that still made me shudder. “This one here is by John Abernathy, who established a medical school in London around the mid-nineteenth century. I’ve always been fascinated with other people’s views of human anatomy. I bought these during my summer abroad in Scotland just after finishing medical school.”
“It’s beautiful,” I said, cocking my head and studying the way the ink strokes formed the valves of the heart. I wondered how my own looked, the exterior muscles wasting away with each passing day.
“It is,” Theron responded quietly, and when I looked up I saw that he was watching me, his gaze dark and lustful . His rich eyes really were hypnotic, and when he looked at me I felt like I was falling into space. Possibly lost forever. It felt dangerous, but exciting. I was standing on the edge of a cliff — the wind in my hair screaming. Jump! Jump!
I broke the spell, clearing my throat before continuing our walk down the hall and moving away from the warmth of his body. When a doorway arched upward and opened into a large space, my mouth fell open in awe. The ceilings were pitched two stories up, with a viewing platform on the second floor of the room. In two corners stood bronzed staircases that spiraled upwards to allow you access to both levels, and one entire wall of the room was a floor-to-ceiling window. On the second floor of the room, accessible by the viewing platform, a door leads out onto what I supposed would be a balcony.
The best part? Every inch of the room was covered in books !
I spun on my heel to see the handsome doctor smirking, a twinkle in his eye. “You wanted to show me your library?”
He nodded eagerly. The playful, school-boy look suited him well. Pushing a few rogue hairs out of his eyes, Theron looked around the room. “I know how much you enjoy books, and I’ve been keeping my collection to myself for far too long.”
The rows of novels went from floor to ceiling, and I walked them slowly as my fingers hovered just over the spines of medical journals and classic novels. The room was spotless, kept in museum-quality condition, with plush couches of evergreen in all four corners. It felt like a place I could get lost and never wish to be found. Here, we could be Beauty and the Beast swinging from oak frame ladders and basking in the natural light.
Theron had kept a safe distance, walking quietly behind me, and I could feel his eyes burning across my skin. He was truly man-obsessed, and when I peered over my shoulder at him, his eyes turned deadly.
“What do you think of it?” He asked as I looked up at the spiral staircase, his tone hopeful but nervous.
My hand rested on the railing, and I grinned as I started to climb it. “I think you’ve been holding out on me, doctor. If you wanted my attention so badly, you should have started with this and saved us both the struggle.”
Theron pursed his lips and moved quickly so that I was caged between his arms and the railing. He loomed over me, his cologne rolling off his black turtleneck that was pushed up to his elbows. He smelt of cedar and dark plums — intoxicating and alluring.
“Little rabbit, the struggle is the sweetest part,” he purred as I tried not to think about the warmth spreading throughout my body. I knew my cheeks were flushed, and though I tried to mask my excitement it was obvious I’d failed when Theron’s finger came to rest under my chin, lifting it suddenly upward.
“Have you fantasized about hiding from me — heart pounding in your chest as I nip at your heels? Are you wet for me right now, rabbit?”
I sucked in a breath, and when I did, his thumb pushed through my parted lips and pressed down on my tongue. My eyes went wide, staring at him with shock before it melted into desire. He was biting into his bottom lip, suppressing a moan of pleasure as I closed my lips and sucked his thumb further into my mouth. He looked dazed — mesmerized by me. I’d never known how sweet it felt to be wanted like this. Needed like this.
Theron gently pulled his thumb back, running it over my teeth and bottom lip before dragging it down my chin. I stared up at him with wide eyes, and when his hand fastened around my neck, I thought the floor might cave in below us.
“Do you trust me, Ever?” His voice was full of dark promise . I felt it vibrate through his chest that was pressed against my own, our hearts beating rapidly. He watched me with an animalistic focus that on anyone else would have looked deranged, or rabid. On Theron, it only spun my desire to greater heights.
My fingers tightened around the railing. “I shouldn’t,” I answered in a small voice. His face softened, but he sighed in relief as if he’d been expecting me to say no. I shouldn’t even be here, alone with him in his house where no one would hear me scream.
Theron read between the lines, and didn’t push it. “Keep going, there’s more I want to show you.”
I turned back around quickly and climbed the stairs up and up until I walked out onto the second landing of the library and was faced with more rows of precious leather-bound spines and novels. The floor creaked quietly behind me, and Theron moved around the space like a creature in his lair. He was truly at home here, prowling his brown-stone castle like a dragon with his tomes.
“I started collecting when I was too young to even understand their contents,” he mused with his hands folded behind his back as we walked the aisle. “It was the promise of knowledge that attracted me to them and that even the most mundane of objects could hold wonders beyond my imagination. I must admit, I was caught more than once as a schoolboy stuffing far too many library books into my bag.”
I grinned, thinking of my own bibliophile-fueled kleptomania from my budding youth and feeling solace in our similarity. “Stalking, stealing organs, and now theft of library property? How long is your rap sheet, Dr. Hawthorne?”
He shrugged gamely, eyes sparking in the soft glow of the wall sconces. “When I see something I want, I take it.”
And take it he might. Theron Hawthorne was chipping away at my resolve minute by minute, his ax breaking away years of built-up armor and thick skin that was meant to keep me safe but instead caused me to grow heavy and lethargic. Slow to passion. I feared that if he hadn’t stepped into my world that day at the hospital, I would have sunk under the weight of my own fear.
A warm blush crept up my neck as his gaze turned hungry. I cleared my throat again and looked once more around the two-story library. “What else were you wanting to show me, or just more books to lure me with?”
Theron bit the inside of his cheek, eyes dropping to my lips before he nodded his head.
“Luring you is only part of the trap,” he said with a smirk.
I took a breath , and turned to where he had indicated, stopping dead. We had come to a halt in front of the large windows I had spied from downstairs. They were also full length, spanning from the floor of the second landing to the vaulted ceiling. Through the crystalline glass was a clear view of the Boston Harbor in all its evening splendor. The seacoast was dark now, but the lights of the city glimmered on the blackened waves, casting a blurred reflection of the skyline. Further out, I could see buoys bobbing on the waves, their red lights swaying back and forth.
Without asking permission, I reached for the handle of the glass and turned it slowly, stepping out a comfortably built, albeit small terrace with warm, red bricks and covered patio furniture waiting for the summer months. I moved immediately across the small space, my fingers resting on the stone railing as I allowed myself to smile at the wharf. Growing up in New England, I was born to love the ocean. It wrapped around our small city like a ribbon of wonder, a constant reminder of my childhood holidays on the cape and my toes in the sand. Back when I was happy.
“A library overlooking the bay,” I whispered to myself. “You’re living my dream, Dr. Hawthorne.”
I felt my body come to life when his feather-light touch ghosted over my cheek without warning, pushing aside my curls and leaving a burning need in its wake. I could feel the heat coming off his chest as he stepped into my back, his breath on my neck. I kept my eyes on the water, counting the distant lights on the horizon to keep myself centered as he whispered in my ear.
“Do you want to hear what I dream of, Ever?”
I shivered, and my head nodded on its own accord while my eyes stayed locked on the wharf. One of his hands settled on my shoulder, his fingers pressing into my pulse as the other came to rest on my hip. His hold was firm, dominating, and sure as his purr of approval could be felt vibrating through my back.
“When I close my eyes at night after being up to my elbows in blood and organs all day, the only image that can satiate my need for release is one of you spread wide on my operating table with my cock buried in your pretty little cunt.”
I whimpered, pressing my legs together as the heat in my belly bloomed. Oh God, what sort of twisted person was I that this man turned me on this much? That his twisted desires were mine as well? I wanted to be at his mercy — to willfully give up control.
“I want to carve my name into you, little rabbit, and mark you as my own personal little toy. My lovely, lovely little toy that only I get to play with and enjoy.”
Fuck. Theron’s lips brushed against my neck, and I tilted my head to give him more access. I need to feel his lips against my skin, tasting me and taunting me until the end. His tongue darted out, sliding up my skin until his teeth latched onto my earlobe and tugged gently.
“Will you scream for me, Ever? If I ask nicely, will you cry for me?”
Before I could think, I was nodding.
“Yes,” the whispered confession was a blend of shame and desire. Yes, I would shake, and cry and scream for him. But only if he kept touching me!
Theron cooed. “You’re such a good girl, Ever. My lovely little rabbit, all scared and innocent but still begging for the chase. Do you want me to chase you, Ever?”
I swallowed in a dry throat. “Chase me how?”
I couldn’t see him, but his voice was low and deadly, smoother than the finest wine . I could drown in him. “I’ll let you run and hide somewhere in the house, but when I catch you, you’re mine to do with what I wish. Do you want to play, rabbit?”
“And if you don’t catch me?” I asked bravely. I might crave his touch, but I also knew that his proclivities must run dark. Giving this man the permission to do what he wishes with me was dangerous.
Theron chuckled. “Ever, if I was a blind man in a million different lifetimes, I would still find my way to you. A dark house will not be so difficult, and besides, I think you’ll be begging to be caught.”
I pushed down my fear and excitement, then quickly turned in his arms so that I could look up at him. He looked surprised when I raised my hand and held his jaw between my fingers with enough force to leave a bruise. I slid my right leg up along his, cocking my knee and reaching down with my other hand to pull the knife out of my boot. I flicked it open and pressed it into the side of his neck, where his pulse thrummed beneath the steel. I could feel his stubble, and this close I could see a small white scar that spread across his right cheekbone that I hadn’t noticed before. It was very subtle, but my curiosity was piqued.
“How long do you need to find me, Dr. Hawthorne? I don’t have all night to play games.”
Theron’s lips twitched, and I could feel the muscles in his neck straining as he pushed forward into my grasp like it was an embrace and not a threat. He felt comfortable in my hold, allowing me to press the edge of the surprisingly sharp knife into his neck until a thin red line appeared. I tried to not to dwell on the fact that the sight of my hand drawing his blood excited me. I felt powerful.
“You’ll have five minutes to hide, and I’ll have five minutes to catch you.”
“And if I evade you?”
He rolled his eyes. “You won’t — ”
“If I do?” I said firmly as my fingers tightened around his jawbone. I wanted to slip them lower and feel his heartbeat through the skin of his neck, thrumming to life. I wondered how fast it would beat when he chased me and if my own would match his like a dark tempo.
Theron sighed like he was bargaining with a child who swore they would be able to catch Santa on the roof with his reindeer. “If you manage to evade me,” he drawled salaciously. “Then you can do what you want with me ,” he said with a grin.
I narrowed my eyes at the man, though he clearly didn’t find the expression threatening considering his smile grew ever broader, despite the blade in my hand. “And if I simply wish for you to take me home?”
He shrugged, as if the answer was inconsequential. “Then your wish would be my command.” The words were hardly out of his mouth before his eyes darkened and quite suddenly, he had pushed himself forward so that I was trapped between the brick railing and his rock-hard hips. He didn’t appear to mind that the knife had dug further into the sensitive skin of his neck.
“But I warn you, rabbit, when I find you, I will take what is mine.”
“And that is?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.
“You.”
I swallowed hard, and thought of all the perverse and wanton things he could do to my body. Theron had already made me feel things I’d never experienced before, just with his breath on my neck and his words in my ear. Hell, a dream of him had me wetter than I’d ever been in my life. What could he do with his hands and teeth? Should I let him?
“I’m a sick woman, Dr. Hawthorne. You have to be careful with me,” I warned him as the blade slipped down his neck, skimming the five o’clock shadow that, if I was honest, I wanted to run my tongue over.
He laughed, hands gripping my hips appreciatively. “How perfectly the stars have aligned for a twisted man to fall for a dying woman.”
“Then you should be careful with me, doctor. My heart is a fragile thing.”
Theron’s face softened, and so did his hold on my body. In an instant, the air between us went from electrified to soothing and safe. I felt like the world around us could bash and break down on our shoulders, but so long as we kept our bodies close then nothing could tear us down.
“I can imagine it is, little rabbit, but your heart will never be in danger from me. I can promise you that.”
Why did I believe him? Everything in my past told me that he was the red flag, waving proudly and without shame on the horizon. He would hurt me, use me, and throw me back out to sea before I could catch my breath. That’s what the sirens were singing, at least — and were they wrong, or were they just not me ? Maybe I was the only person in the world who didn’t need to be afraid of Theron Hawthorne.
His hands slid up my body and came to rest on my cheeks, holding me captive in his arms while the stars watched on from above with envy. Not even stars could feel as beautiful as I did in this moment, trapped under Theron Hawthorne’s gaze. His bottomless pools of obsidian filled with a thrilling and terrifying hunger. I was sure that to those inky eyes, even Venus would have paled in comparison. I could feel the obsession Theron watched me with humming in the air. I was his goddess, and he would never deny me. I could see that now.
His eyes flickered down to my lips, a silent plea in the way his fingers dug into my cheeks.
Please. He begged with me in silence. Let me taste you.
My chin dropped, but an inch, and then his lips were on mine with a devastating groan of triumph and gratitude.