Chapter Twenty-Eight Find Me
Alistair
I’d never brought anyone to this house before, besides the guys and even then they didn’t stay for long. I wasn’t sure why I’d brought her here in the first place, there was no reason to come here. No reason to show her the house because it’s not like it was home in the first place.
Maybe some part of me wanted to show her what all the wealth had bought me.
A gigantic house with no one inside. With no love and no warmth in sight.
It was just expensive furniture and overprized light fixtures.
“This could house the entire town I grew up in.” She says looking into the kitchen while I run warm water over my bloody knuckles.
Her eyes fan across it, walking around, running her fingers across the everything on the counter while I lean against the frame wondering what she’s thinking.
“It’s nice, but…”
“Not what you expected?”
She nods, “Your home is supposed to be where you can be self-expressive. No photos of your family, nothing comforting, this,” Spinning, her arms extended, “looks like a house for showings. It doesn’t feel like anyone lives inside here.”
I could laugh at how ironic that is.
“It’s a house. Not a home.” I say honestly.
“Is that why you hate them? That’s why you hate your family?” She doesn’t look at me when she asks, probably shocking herself with the boldness to ask me a question like that.
“I don’t hate them for treating me like an outsider.
I loathe them for having me to begin with, for having a son they knew they would detest the rest of his life.
” I could feel her, slowly trying to unwind the snakes that coiled around my body.
Timidly trying to figure out ways to get inside of my head, beneath my skin even more than she already had.
“You can’t say that. There had to be something good before, parents don’t just despise their children from birth, Alistair. There has to be a reason.”
My fists begin to ache for violence. I look down at the dried blood, running down the drain into the sink.
Naive.
That’s what she is.
Even her, a girl who grew up with nothing thinking she’d possibly seen every bad thing the world could offer, was still naive to the cruelty of human beings.
That’s what I want to tell her. Not everyone has a reason for doing shitty things. They are just fucked up people in the world because they can be.
“We aren’t talking about this.” I end the conversation. Not needing her to poke around anymore than she already has.
“Alright then,” She mutters quietly, “Where’s the bathroom?”
After pointing her in the correct direction, I picked up my phone to check the messages from the guys.
Silas had sent a photo of us when we were kids, maybe eight or nine years old, that his dad had taken after we’d spent the day shooting each other with nerf guns.
Rook’s hair is still long, our faces have aged but it’s still us.
There wasn’t a happy memory in my brain that they weren’t a part of.
There was no good without them, even through all the bad.
He’d added a quick, “ HB.”
Thatcher made a comment about how I still dress like an eight-year-old, to that I replied with a middle finger emoji.
The sound of the shower running, before a loud crash echoes down the hall and immediately I’m on high alert.
Dorian and my parents were in Seattle for the weekend for some conference, had they not been, Briar wouldn’t have stepped foot on the property, even if I wanted to show her the reality of growing up here.
So my question was what the hell was she doing?
I walk towards the bathroom, the door is cracked slightly, just enough to let the light escape.
“It’s not polite to take showers at people’s homes without inviting them first.” I say loudly.
When I don’t hear a reply I move a little faster, pressing the door completely open and finding it empty, even the glass shower is void of the person who had been here just moments ago.
What the fuck?
Only when I see the mirror above the sink am I rewarded with the location of my missing house guest.
Come Find Me.
It reads in the fog of the glass, soft, delicate handwriting that makes excitement flush my system.
This is the game she wanted to play? In my territory?
What a stupid move for a smart girl.
I turn the shower off, walking back to the kitchen to toss my jacket onto the kitchen island with my phone and begin my search. I know she didn’t go up the stairs because she would’ve had to walk past me to make it into the foyer. Which leaves the back portion of the house fair play.
A low whistle finds itself falling from my lips as I take my time. I’m in no rush to find my little thief. I search each room checking behind doors, beneath beds in the spare rooms.
There is no spot left unturned when I leave it.
When I find her I want her breath to be held, hands over her mouth as she attempts to stop even the slightest of sounds from falling past her lips. I want her heart to be racing with adrenaline and her skin to be flushed from the mixture of fear and excitement.
The sound of my boots echo off the walls as I work my way towards what used to be my favorite place in the home.
I push the door open with my fingertips, the untouched office instead consisting of a desk, some thrown around books and older than dirt coffee table. The glass dome covering this portion of the house allowed the stars and moon to shine in the room.
I looked out at the forest around my house, so dark that it would be impossible to see what was creeping behind the trees. Anything could see us inside of here.
Even in the scarce lighting I spot what looks like a shoelace peeking out from underneath the side of the desk, like someone is kneeling beneath it, trying to hide from all the monsters outside.
As quietly as I can, I creep up to the side of the desk, stopping my whistle, right before I slam my palm on the top of it, dipping down to look beneath a smirk on my lips until I see there is nothing there.
I furrowed my eyebrows, confused for a second. Her Converse sat face down on the edge of the desk, a trick I should have thought of. I just don’t put two and two together well, I do when I feel hands squeeze my sides,
“Boo.” She whispers quietly, “How do you like being scared, Alistair?”
Turning in her hands, looking down at the grin on her face, my eyebrow lifts slightly,
“That was you trying to scare me?” My fingers rest beneath her chin, tilting her head up towards me as I lean down, “You’re gonna have to do better than that, Little Thief.”
And I do the one thing I’d been dying to do since I saw her in the stands at The Graveyard. The only thing I wanted for my birthday.
I press my mouth to hers, molding us together and tasting her on my tongue immediately.
I take her head between my hands, pulling her into me more so I can taste her deeper. My tongue moving inside of her mouth, I planned on pushing her onto the desk, spreading her legs and tasting her second set of lips, but she had other plans apparently.
With much more force than I anticipated, she presses her hands into my chest, pushing me backwards. Instinctively, I reach behind me, feeling for something solid to fall onto and finding the armrest of the swivel chair.
I’m seated looking up at her, as she stands between my legs looking a lot like the kind of trouble I want to get lost in. The moon highlights the right side of her body, showing me all the parts of her I want to touch.
The way her low-rise jeans sit below her hip bones, her tight shirt wrapped around her breast in a way that made them look heavy and supple, I notice her nipples are hard, noticeable through the material of her shirt.
My jaw and cock strained at the same time. Thinking about all the other men that might have seen her like that. Nipples erect from the cold, flushed from the air. I wanted to rip out the eyes of men I didn’t even know, just for glancing at her like this.
She is the female form perfected. There is nothing more erotic. Nothing more beautiful.
With deliberate movements she flips her hair to the side, hands moving down on my chest, nails scratching the surface of my skin with the force. Confidence pours from her as she sways her hips to the sound of silence, falling until she’s resting on her knees in front of me.
She looks like a ticket straight to heaven and I would have walked through hellfire to get it.
I feel her fingers rake up and down my jean clad thighs, peering up at me with those kaleidoscope eyes. The moon shows me every filthy, dirty thought she’s having inside them.
“You plan to do something while you’re down there?” I ask, arching an eyebrow and looking at her like she needs to do something. Like she needs to impress me. Looking at her like she won’t be able to handle pleasuring me, even though I know she’s capable.
But my little thief enjoys a challenge.
“No one ever taught you how to be patient did they Alistair?”
She leans her body forward, dipping her head towards the thick outline in my jeans. I can feel her hot breath through the material, making me twitch with anticipation. I lick my bottom lip, catching it with my teeth.
“Careful. I’ll only let you tease me for so long before I take what I want.”
Just as I say that, her tongue flicks from her pink mouth, grazing over my length. I dig my fingers into the armrest to prevent me from grabbing the back of her hair and sliding myself all the way down her throat.
I wanted inside of her. Any hole. All of them.
Dropping my head to my chest, watching as she plays with the button of my jeans, all the while her mouth is toying with my wallet chain. Steadily she rolls she tongue up and down the cold metal, lacing it through the links of the chain.
Fuck, that’s hot. I think to myself, not wanting to give my pleasure away before she’s even really touched me.
“This how you steal men’s wallets?” My tongue rests against my upper lip hiding a smile. “Good technique.” I add.