Static (Mayhem Motel #1)

Prologue

Sweet Little Surprise

My sweet, little treat.

I’ve fuckin’ missed you.

My lips twitch, curling upward as I watch him through the pane. Sweat beads across his forehead, glistening in the pale, yellow light above. His small, delicate hands press together, fingers wringing with uncertainty as he drops his head to stare down at his phone on the floor.

I know what he’s staring at. What’s making him act this way.

Me.

Always me.

I huff in amusement, dragging the back of my hand over my forehead to catch my own perspiration, uncaring that I’m smearing my makeup. My work clothes cling to my damp skin, made worse by my exertion and excitement as I shift on my haunches, gloved fingers wrapped around a thick branch.

It’s fuckin’ hot, even with the sun long gone and a cool breeze flitting through the branches I’ve made a home in. But it’s worth it—just to see that look on his face.

“Fuck,” I groan as Madison dips down to pick his phone back up, those blue eyes so fuckin’ wide. My smile grows larger the longer he stares, that fat fuckin’ lip clamped between those pretty, white teeth.

And then, his thumbs are moving.

“Gotcha, darlin’,” I whisper, mouth filling with saliva.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I drop my knee to reach inside.

Darlin:

Please leave me alone.

Look, I don’t know how

Madison’s text is cut off mid-sentence, but there are three bubbles underneath. I glance up, finding him pacing his room, hunched over with his chin digging into his chest as he types. I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth as I rake my gaze down his lithe body, vividly remembering his taste.

It’s so easy to imagine him strapped to a leather table, completely exposed and vulnerable, his body trembling… Or better yet… back on that dolly.

Static sparks on my tongue, filling my brain and my blood.

Darlin:

I think I do know how you got my number.

Laughter fills my chest. I wedge my foot between two thick branches so I can use both hands to type. But before I do, I look up at him to watch every emotion he possesses pass over his face in such a short span of time.

He has no idea how magnificent… how perfect he is for me. How he gave me something I’ve always needed instantly.

He’s crazy if he thinks I’m going to give him up.

Me:

Hows that, darlin

His hands stop shaking for a moment, seemingly stilled by what he’s reading. My heart chugs heavily beneath my sternum, the glug of my blood thicker than ever as it travels south.

And then, his eyelids flutter closed, dark lashes a shadow across his cheekbones. I skim my tongue along my teeth, burning to sink them into his flesh again.

The glass pane separating us is mere feet away… All I’d have to do is reach out, and I’d be able to get to him. To touch and taste and take.

My eyes roll back as I drop my head between my shoulders and sink my teeth into the flesh of my cheek. Copper explodes on my tongue, making me groan.

Every second that passes, it gets harder and harder to stay away.

But I love to play… and he’s finally playing back.

My phone vibrating draws my eyes back open.

Darlin:

You broke the rules.

I chuckle loudly, feeling mad. At this point, I don’t care if he hears me right outside his window.

Me:

Did I

He has no idea how many “rules” I’ve obliterated to have him—the ultimate faux pas in my world… well, in both worlds. And I should probably care more than I do, which ain’t at all.

Darlin:

My information wasn’t yours to take. It was only for the experience thing.

His rounded jaw is set tight, and his knees are locked. But his eyes… The eyes never lie. And his are still glassy with the fear I remember tasting so good.

But fuck, it does feel good to fake it, so I can’t really blame him.

Me:

Everything of yours is mine to take

And I want another taste

Madison’s phone drops from his trembling hand, landing with a jarring thud on the carpeted floor beside his feet once more.

He turns his back on me to sit sideways on the edge of his bed as voices shout from downstairs.

They’re barely audible with the walls between us, but Madison yells in response before falling back, his hand pressed to his sternum.

My fingers curl into my covered palms, the pointed tips of my gloves pressing in. The pain is dull with the fabric between the areas of contact, but I relish in it all the same.

I have the perfect view—from the crown of his head down his entire body.

Of his thick, mousy brown hair, which is plastered to his sweaty forehead, and his small hands, which tremble as they lift the hem of his red t-shirt to undo the button on his jeans.

He plants his bare feet on his bedframe as he snakes his arm over and down his stomach, fingers grazing bare flesh before they disappear beneath his waistband.

My eyes light up, dancing with pleasant revelation as I watch my little treat… play with himself.

Oh, he is such a sweet little surprise.

Teeth puncture the thin flesh of my bottom lip as I lean toward the glass, needing to touch him. My gloved fingertips nearly drag across the pane, leaving invisible streaks in my wake.

My mark. One of many to come.

Madison’s neck arches, exposing tendons and veins and muscles that need to be sunk into.

Bruised and bloodied and delicate. My cock is throbbing where it’s trapped within my pants, and my fingers twitch to pull it out, but I suck in a breath, reining in what little bit of control I have left to watch.

Just watch…

Because he’s the rapture I need, and I’m the nightmare he wants.