Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
After Cole’s boss–Maverick–left the bar, the rest of my night went by painfully slow. Most of the customers departed shortly after he did, leaving only a few regulars who played pool and chattered loudly up until last call.
Tonight, Cole escorted everyone out then made his way to his back corner booth while I performed the closing duties. He mostly messed around with his phone but I could feel his eyes on me every now and then. I’m not sure how I feel about how much he watched me tonight as opposed to last night.
All I could think about was eyes, the lightest green eyes I’ve probably ever seen, and the way they still haunt me.
How every movement I made felt as if they were meticulously catalogued to use against me.
Normally, that sort of intent focus would make me uncomfortable, but not Maverick.
It was exciting, even when he glared at me over the rim of his glass like he wanted to devour me whole.
Heat bloomed in my cheeks and pooled low in my stomach.
Wiping down around the register, I glance to where I placed his business card after he left.
It’s standing up between the rows on the keyboard, daring me to do something with it.
Tossing my towel on the bar, I close the distance and pick it up, taking a closer look.
His name and phone number are printed in silver leafing against a plain black background–clean cut, and elegant in a way.
Flipping it over, I see the name of his company.
Cain Defenses. Idly, I tap the card a few times against the register in contemplation before I stuff it in my back pocket for later.
Should I call him? If I call him, do I say it’s work related? Do I just go for it?
Let me be clear, I have never been very forward with men. Preston is the only person I have ever been with, and that thought makes me shudder and bile rise in the back of my throat. Needless to say, I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.
Ever since moving here, I’ve had zero interest in dating or men in general–that fucker ruined everything for me.
I don’t trust anyone enough to simply try, and even if I did try, experience has taught me that no one is who they say they are.
Preston was the nicest, most considerate person I had ever met; until he wasn’t.
Then he was the devil incarnate–no I’m not exaggerating.
What is it about the massive, tattooed stranger with eyes the color of sage, that has me feeling like I should take my shot?
Maybe it’s loneliness that’s starting to weigh on me.
Maybe it's the way my hand grazed his and an electric shock zipped straight to my core, dampening my panties.
I yanked my hand back as if he had bit me, because that has never happened before. Honestly, it frightened me some.
Once I finish at the bar, Cole once again walks me to my car, his eyes scanning the parking lot the whole time as if he’s some fleshy-roomba.
I’m not entirely thrilled he insists on doing it but I don't complain, it does make me feel a little more at ease.
Like the other day, he waits for me to exit the parking lot before he leaves.
Thankfully the ride home is silent, the image of big tattooed hands and light-green eyes consuming my thoughts.
The hair on my arms stands at attention as soon as I pull into the driveway–something is off. I scan my surroundings before carefully exiting my Jeep. I don’t see anything out of place but that doesn’t mean a damn thing.
Grabbing my keys, I fumble trying to find the one for the front door as I approach the steps. I grab the railing, the thin hairs at my nape erect with the electrical charge in the air. At first nothing stands out but I can’t bring myself to move forward–the dim porch light doing me no favors.
Out of the darkness a shadow emerges. It stops where there is barely enough moonlight to make out the figure; a man. A very large one at that. My heart stops beating and drops to the pit of my stomach, my eyes widening with apprehension when I finally see him.
He’s well over six feet tall, and broad shouldered; wearing one of those masks that people wear to hide everything except the eyes.
“Hello, Sweetheart.” the man says in a low, gravelly voice which painfully pulls my choppy breaths past my lips.
I feel like I’m going to throw up–who the fuck is this?
With surprising calmness, I reach behind me to grab the Ruger from the small of my back–I don’t go anywhere without it–watching the man like he’s seconds away from ripping into me.
“Uh-uh.” He tuts. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”
“Who are you?” I ask, the shake my voice betraying the calm front I try to put on.
“The more important question is…” He starts, tipping his head slightly to the side. “Who are you, Raven?”
What the fuck? Raven? This guy must have the wrong person.
His body language tells me he's exactly where he should be.
Stepping back, my fear starts to get the better of me. Did someone find me? Did they find out what really happened to Preston and they’re here to make me pay? How the fuck did they find me?
The man starts walking in my direction and I almost trip trying to retreat back to my car. I quickly abandon the idea of running the bastard over when my keys fall to the ground in an audible rasp of metal and gravel.
He’s only a couple feet away from me now and there’s zero time to escape to the car at this point so I make a snap decision. I drop my purse and haul ass into the woods. Risking a quick glance over my shoulder, I see the man standing at the end of the driveway, head cocked to the side.
Is he…laughing at me?
I look back ahead of me and launch myself at full speed into the tree line, branches slapping me in the face and the mud splashing up my jeans. My heart is working double time to push me forward, and my lungs fight for oxygen.
I’m out of shape, I haven’t ran since that night at Preston’s and I never planned to again. I curse myself for not exercising more, but in my defense, I thought I was done fighting for my life.
I bob and weave through low hanging branches, and jump over rocks.
All of a sudden goosebumps break out all over my body and nausea hits me again.
I cannot let whoever this is catch me, I just need to find a spot to hide so I can pull out my gun and shoot the fucker between the eyes.
I’ll figure out what to do with the body tomorrow.
Just as I reach a small clearing in the woods, I hear the heavy sound of footfalls behind me. I look over my shoulder to see he’s right behind me. I let out a scream as an arm snakes around my waist and we collide, crashing down on the muddy ground. I fall face down and he lands on top of me.
The man flips me over and I let out a pained groan when my weapon digs into the small of my back.
I try to wiggle free, but I’m trapped between his enormous thighs.
I scream so loud I think my voice will go out and he slams a hand over my mouth, wrapping his other around my throat.
I try to bite his hand, kick my legs, anything but it’s useless.
“Shhh, Raven, shhh. It’s okay.” He leans down and whispers in my ear.
Tears start to well in my eyes and I begin to panic.
He straightens himself, one hand still on my mouth and the other wrapped around my throat. The moonlight catches the side of his face and I gasp behind his hand.
His eyes. Sage green eyes twinkle in the light and look down at me. I’d know those eyes anywhere, I’ve been thinking about them all night.
It’s Maverick.
“I didn’t know you liked being chased, Sweetheart.” He says in a calm voice, his eyes darkening as he rakes them up and down my body.
His grip on my throat loosens and he removes the other from my mouth as he shifts on his knees.
Taking advantage of the split second to wiggle out from under him quickly, I launch my foot at his chest. My foot makes contact and I think it’ll give me an opening to take off and run again, but nope.
He wraps a thick hand around my ankle and yanks me back underneath him, my shirt and jacket riding up and stopping just below my bra.
He grabs both of my wrists in one hand and slams them in the mud above my head.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Parker.” He says as he cages me once again between his thighs.
“What the fuck do you want?!” I shout, not giving up my fight. I can't believe I thought about calling this guy.
“The answer to your question is simple.” He leans back down so he’s nose to nose with me. I can only see his eyes, and in them I can see the hint of a smug smile.
Using his free hand, he brushes the strands of hair that are stuck on the side of my face, “You.”
Heat radiates in my core and wetness gathers between my thighs. Something about the position he has me in, the intensity in his eyes as he stares at me, and that one word combined has me turned on.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I don't have time to answer that question before his hand leaves my face and slides down my neck, stopping on my pulse point for a moment before continuing down my sides. My skin feels electric in the wake of his hand and my breathing begins to become heavier for a different reason. I’ve never been touched this way.
So gently and possessively at the same time.
Maverick watches me intently as his hand reaches the top of my jeans. He lightly drags his fingers across my exposed stomach and goosebumps break out all over my entire body. I rub my thighs together and stifle a whimper. He notices and a low chuckle leaves his mouth.
“So beautiful.”
Biting my bottom lip, I stare in awe at the mountain of a man on top of me. Why am I so turned on? Why am I not trying to run?
He adjusts his position and scoots back so he’s sitting on my lower legs, and begins to unbutton my jeans.
My breathing becomes heavier and now instead of fear, I’m nervous.
Nervous about the fact that I have not once tried to stop this, and about the fact that no one has seen me in a position this vulnerable in a long time.
Maverick slides my jeans down my thighs and a low groan rumbles in his chest when he sees the black lace thong I wore today. His hand grips my thigh with punishing strength, I’m sure it’s going to leave fingertip bruises, it only makes me wetter.
I’m so fucked.
He pushes my panties to the side and he inhales sharply as he takes in the sight of my bare pussy. Heat flames in my cheeks and I turn my head to the side to try to hide my face. All of this is so new to me, and with a man who I was sure was here to take me back across the country to finish me off.
To be fair, I am still not sure that’s not what’s happening here. How do I know that Maverick has no idea who I am besides some bartender he just met? Truth is, I don’t. So why can’t I bring myself to keep fighting?
“Nope.” he says as he gently grabs my chin and forces me to turn my head back to look at him, “Eyes on me, Sweetheart.”
I force myself to keep looking at him as he grips my hip, then grabs my underwear and rips them off my body.
I moan at the sensation. Yup, fucked.
He puts my panties in his back pocket, then his fingers graze my pussy and I buck my hips. The feeling of his fingers on me is intense.
I have never been played with, never had foreplay, and I have always had to get myself off, but I think I might come just from his light touch.
“What am I going to do with you?” He asks, and the question throws me off. But before I can ask what he means, his fingers find my clit and he begins rubbing in slow, punishing circles.
I throw my head back and let out a whimper.
“Oh God!” I say between ragged breaths.
“Look at me Parker.” My eyes meet his and my heart stops.
“Not God. Me. The only name to ever leave your lips again in this position, is mine. God has nothing to do with it.”
With that declaration he slides two digits inside me. My walls clamp down on them, the sheer size and roughness of them is an overwhelming, and delectable sensation. He pulls another moan from my lips and begins to fuck me with his fingers at a punishing, delicious pace.
“Fuck you’re so tight. So wet. You like being chased, pretty girl? Your body says you do.”
I can’t form the words to answer, my mind only concentrating on the sensation of his rough fingers that are fucking me ruthlessly.
His digits curl, finding that sensitive spot inside me and I throw my head back and slam my eyes shut.
Maverick’s hand leaves my wrists, wrapping around my throat and squeezes; not enough to take away my air, but enough that the pressure increases the intensity of the orgasm that’s threatening to crash into me.
“Eyes on me, beautiful.” My eyes meet his, and spots begin to creep into my vision. “Give it to me, now.” He demands and releases his grip on my throat.
My body goes rigid, white dots dancing in my vision as I shatter on his fingers, but he doesn’t stop.
He keeps fucking me roughly with his fingers as I ride out the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had.
Only when I start to come down from the high does he slow down, and eventually remove his fingers from my sore pussy. I whimper at the loss and he chuckles.
“You’re so perfect.” I hear him say as he begins to rub slow gentle circles on my clit once again. My body shakes with the shocks it sends through me.
Once he’s sure I’m finished, he pulls my jeans back up to my hips. He comes to a stand above me and it looks like there are two of him. I’m spent and my body feels like jello.
He leans down and scoops me off the ground effortlessly bridal style and begins walking. He could be taking me anywhere for all I know, but I don't have the energy to ask questions. For some reason, I feel safe, right here, my head leaning on his chest right above his heart.
“Let’s go get you cleaned up.”
He begins walking back in the direction of my house and my heavy eyes begin to close.