Chapter 25
chapter
twenty-five
CALDER
I tried to fight it. Really. I did.
Then Shay went on a fucking date.
Her eyes narrowed, and she folded her arms. “The normal thing to do would be to send a message.”
I stepped closer, looking her up and down. Fuck. She was hot.
“I should call the police.”
“You should,” I agreed, hand curling around the back of her neck.
I searched her eyes, looking for the slightest hesitation. Any inkling that she didn’t want this. That she was disgusted by me and would call the police.
Her cheeks flushed, and she angled her body closer.
“How did you find me?” she asked.
I dragged her closer by the back of her neck, tilting her head to see her eyes. My hand spanned the width of her neck, thumb at the base of her skull, finger at the delicate top notch of her spine.
“I never stopped watching you,” I said. As I spoke, I pushed her flush against the wall. It was a confession as much as a warning—see how fucked up I am, see the depths of my depravity, and run.
“That’s not good.” Her voice turned soft, husky, and she arched into me. Fucking arched.
“I’m not good.”
If I were good, I wouldn’t be here. If I were at least decent, I’d leave. Not try to dig into that glimmering, dark curiosity in her doe eyes.
My grip tightened slightly on her neck. “On a date?”
She drew closer, until our noses nearly touched.
I fought the urge to kiss her.
To bruise those plump, pouty lips red.
“Yes,” she breathed, her breath heating my lips.
“You gonna fuck him?”
“Maybe.”
I ghosted my touch along her cheek. She was so petite that my palm spanned the entirety of her lower jaw and cheek, thumb touching her temples. Too small. Too easily crushed.
With my other hand still at the back of her neck, she was pinned to me. Stuck.
“He took you to a barbecue,” I said. “You’re gonna fuck someone who doesn’t even know you don’t eat meat?”
“At least he’s interested,” she said, like it was a challenge, something fiery in her dark eyes.
“You don’t think I want you?”
“No—”
My hand dropped from her cheek to her hips, pulling her against my hard cock.
Her lips parted, and I felt the heat of the gasp on my own. No words came out. Her hands found the fabric of my shirt, fisting.
Fuck, I wanted to kiss those lips. Rip off my helmet, swallow her sighs, and fucking devour her. Our last kiss was too short.
It’s the threat that I like.
“Hike up your dress,” I commanded.
She paused.
I lightly squeezed her neck and her hands immediately dropped to her thighs, grabbing the fabric. Still with my grip on her neck, I stepped back, putting the full distance of my arm between us, so I could watch.
Shay ruched the fabric up past her hips, exposing a pair of black lacy panties. They were so thin, the outline of her visible. And so deliciously bad compared to her innocent exterior.
I dragged my free hand down my neck.
“Pull them aside,” I said, voice hoarse.
She paused, knuckles in the fabric. I tested my grip against her neck, and one hand instantly dropped, tugging the lace aside.
A ragged, hollow groan slipped from somewhere deep in my throat. “Good fucking girl.”
She was wet. Glistening. Her pussy was fucking perfect.
The graveyard had been dark, hiding parts of her.
But in this bright light I saw everything.
A little triangle of hair above bare, pink lips.
Plump. Fuckable. Gonna remember this for the rest of my life.
Decades later, long after she’d finally realized what a bad guy I was, I would still jack off to this memory.
“Fuck.” I traced my thumb gently up and down her jugular. “You’re going to ruin me.”
My gaze lifted back to hers. Her cheeks were flushed. Her bottom lip stuck between her teeth. I closed the distance, sliding my hand between her thighs.
Mentally cursing my gloves.
She jumped at my touch.
Fuck, I wanted her skin against mine. Wanted to feel the way goose bumps dotted her soft flesh.
She arched into me as I rubbed light circles on her inner thigh, as if trying to get me to go deeper. I bit back a smile.
“Shay…” I clucked my tongue. “It looks like you’re trying to get your stalker to fuck you.”
I watched her eyes as I slid a gloved finger inside her. Her wide, honey eyes grew and went cross-eyed, then dropped into hazy compliance.
Fuck.
I paused. “Say it, Shay.”
“I’m trying to get my stalker to fuck me,” she breathed.
With a thrust, she whimpered, her whole body arching to meet my fingers, eyes rolling back in her head.
Fuck. She was so reactive.
I thrust again, and again her whole body jerked.
I could play with her for hours, addicted to the way she moved like a puppet against my fingers.
The dress slipped from her grip, falling over my wrist.
“Keep your skirt up,” I commanded.
She immediately grasped the fabric, pulling it back up.
“You like being told what to do?” Her cunt clenched and I grinned. “Yeah. You do.”
She was on the brink, about to topple over. And god did I want that. I wanted to see her come again. Watch her eyes grow, her mouth part. Hear her secret whimpers.
“Limerence,” she gasped.
I arched a brow. “Limerence?”
“That’s all this is. Maladaptive daydreaming.” She spoke with her eyes closed, mouth parted. She was deliciously, intoxicatingly messed up. Still holding her dress like I’d told her to. Waiting.
Limerence? Maladaptive daydreaming?
That was what she thought this was? That whatever was happening between us was ephemeral. Not real. Considering I had a very strict one-night-only rule, that shouldn’t piss me off.
And yet.
I pulled out just as she was about to come. Her eyes fluttered open, in shock and confusion.
“Remember this when you sit back down with him.” I slid my finger back inside her, and then quickly out. “When you can’t focus on whatever bullshit he’s saying because your pussy is aching to be fucked, I want you to remember who did that to you.”
I stepped back.
Fuck.
She still held her dress up past her hips. It took all my willpower not to drop to my knees, rip off my helmet, and worship her cunt. Lick that glistening pussy straight from the source.
I shook my head, turning toward the door.
“Who did this to me?” she asked my back. “Void or Calder?”