9. Lilith
LILITH
Oh, no.
Oh. No.
The same two words circle in my head as I stalk Alaric down the street.
He and the unconscious stranger slung over his shoulder.
The sight turns my stomach. A sour taste fills my mouth.
Earlier this evening, I thought life was perfect.
The sexy, all-too-short time Alaric and I spent in the supply closet had been the highlight of my entire existence.
As I walked Hope home after work, all I could think about was him. She smiled when I told her he’d been everything I could’ve wished for, without me going into detail. She said happiness looked good on me. And she was glad we didn’t have to resort to cutting off his balls.
We laughed as I handed her my shoulder bag and went back to the hospital to wait for Alaric outside.
That’s how obsessed I am. Stalking him after he already claimed me as his.
And he, intuitive as ever, almost caught me. When his eyes swept the street, I stood about fifty feet away. With my hoodie pulled low and my head bowed, I pretended to text someone while sneaking glances at him from the corner of my eye.
A minute or two later, he gave up.
I expected him to continue on his route home, but Alaric had other plans.
To my complete surprise, he’d turned into a predator before my own eyes.
Pressed against a building, studying some drunk I didn’t recognize, Alaric was mesmerizing.
The longer I watched him, the more his stolen boxers heated in my hoodie pocket. The urge to run home and do dirty things with them was fierce.
My curiosity was stronger.
So I stayed at a safe distance, peeking from behind a wall as they went into the alley and then slowed to a stop by the dumpster.
There, he surprised me again by acting like he and the drunk were friends. Called him buddy. Said he was taking him home.
Lies.
Friends don’t knock each other out, which is exactly what Alaric did by pressing his fingers into a spot on the man’s neck until he dropped.
“Here we go, almost there,” Alaric mutters now as they round the back of his building and stop at a metal door.
Just like in the alley, there’s no one here but them and me. I’m tucked into the corner, hidden from view, watching him keep pretending they’re buddies.
He and the man he knocked out.
Have I been wrong about him? Is the doctor persona just a mask he wears so he can kidnap people and possibly murder them without anyone ever considering him a suspect?
Was that what he meant when he said he was bad for me? Because he’s a criminal?
No. No. I don’t buy it for a second. None of this adds up.
Why would Alaric work his ass off to save lives one second and then do…this?
Not to mention, a violent person wouldn’t care about anyone’s feelings the way he cared about mine.
I remind myself that he asked for my consent. He made me come first.
He gave me this sweet nickname, little devil, for crying out loud.
It’s then that I decide he isn’t cruel. No fucking way. Not my savior.
Before the night is over, I’m going to get to the bottom of this.
Squinting, I study Alaric’s face as he shifts the slouching man over his shoulder again and again. His expression is so calm it almost makes me believe he actually likes this person.
But on closer inspection, I catch the tic in his jaw. The way his lip curls into a barely perceptible snarl.
He doesn’t like this guy. Doesn’t enjoy kidnapping him.
He hates him.
Why?
Turning my attention to the other man, I rack my brain, trying to figure out if he’s someone from the hospital. Maybe that would help me understand.
I know I’ve seen him around; I just don’t remember where.
My time to wonder about it is up when Alaric raises his hand, reaching for the keypad by the metal door.
Lightning fast, I pull my phone from my jeans pocket, zoom in on the numbers, and hit record. The night vision on this thing is incredible. I’ll have to thank Hope later for convincing me to get a new one after both of ours had basically died.
Actually—no. I can’t thank her. I can’t tell her any of this.
Alaric’s secrets are his. And mine, too, it seems. I won’t risk his freedom or drag Hope into this.
Once the two men disappear and the door clicks shut behind them, I count to ten.
And…I go.
The fall wind whips at my face as I hurry toward the keypad, then stop halfway.
Fuck, I forgot there might be security cameras.
Alaric could explain why he’s dragging the guy inside without raising any red flags. A drunk friend. A favor. Something the doorman wouldn’t question.
Me? I have no excuse to be here.
Hating that I’ve already lost precious seconds of following him, I glance up, then back at the door.
Nothing. No cameras anywhere in the back, just like in my building.
Relief washes over me as I head for the keypad and enter the code.
Quietly, I pull the door open and step inside. This area of the building is dim, lit only by the weak glow spilling from the lobby farther down the corridor and the short flight of stairs nearby.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out which way Alaric went. And so, I start down the stairs.
Sounds drift up from the basement. The dull thud of something heavy being dragged. A rough huff.
“Shut up,” Alaric hisses, confirming what I already knew. He hates the guy.
A moment later, the sounds stop.
Keys clink together.
A lock slides open with a soft click.
Adrenaline floods my blood by the time I hear the whoosh of the door being pulled open.
One…
Two…
I move down the stairs quickly, careful to keep my steps light.
Another important life lesson brought to me by Mom. Being stealthy and invisible around our apartment probably saved me from a beating or two. Or a dozen.
Just as the storage unit door slides shut, my feet land on the corridor’s concrete floor. From there, I tiptoe closer and stop in front of the tenth unit down the hall, the one that just closed a second ago.
His.
To an outsider, it’s completely unremarkable. Solid metal with a number screwed to it. No windows, no slats, nothing.
To me, it’s everything.
The place where Alaric’s secrets live.
A quick look around the corridor sends another wave of relief through me. There are no cameras down here either.
My heart still races a thousand miles a minute as I edge closer, press my ear to the door, and listen.
The first thing I catch is the extremely faint sound of something heavy scraping across the floor.
“Mmm. Mmm.” This sound, too, is barely audible.
Someone else could mistake it for a generator or something.
Still, it doesn’t sound good.
At all.
Could it be Alaric? Did the man wake up and hurt him?
Cold sweat races down my spine before I steel myself against the panic.
My hand flies to the two extra bobby pins in my jeans pocket, the ones I bring to work in case Hope or I lose ours.
I’m about to pick the lock when I take a good look at it.
Ugh, it’s one of those high-end ones. My bobby pins are useless against it.
Fine, I’ll just have to save Alaric by banging loudly on the door. That might startle the asshole long enough for Alaric to turn the situation in his favor.
My hand is already balled into a fist when I hear Alaric’s voice, authoritative and in control.
The words themselves don’t make it through the door. They come out more as a low hum, and barely that. The room must be almost completely soundproof.
Even so, it’s enough.
Alaric is unharmed.
Good.
I can return to eavesdropping while my thoughts run rampant.
Though I can’t place the man he dragged down here, one thing is certain. If Alaric is a good person, this guy must be a bad one.
Which leaves me with one question: where would Alaric meet someone like that? He spends most of his time in the hospital.
With his patients.
Some of whom are victims.
The kind of people who need saving.
My teeth sink into my lip to silence an excited yelp as I put two and two together.
He could be an avenging angel.
“No one’s coming anywhere near you. You’re safe here.”
That’s what he told me in the ICU. Even though I was mostly out of it, I remember he delivered this message with so much conviction.
This has to be it.
My body reacts to that certainty in an instant.
Heat pools between my thighs, making my pussy even more sensitive than before. My legs rub against each other, desperate for friction.
I need him. His hand down my panties. His mouth on mine.
But since I can’t have him right now…
Since there are no cameras here…
Since my orgasm is already coiling, whispering, my body begging for release…
There’s no harm in touching myself.
My hand locks around his boxers, and my knees go so weak that I have to lean my back against the wall.
As I bring his briefs up to my face and press them to my nose, my belly flutters.
Like I’ve done every night since I stole them, I inhale the scent of Alaric’s detergent, clean and perfect, even if it’s thinner now.
I take another breath. Another hit.
Everything about this man is so addictive.
This man will also catch me red-handed unless I hurry.
Using one hand, I undo the button of my jeans and pull it free. I lower the zipper and feel cool air brushing my soaked panties.
I’m ready, hot and wanting, letting my eyes flutter shut as I imagine Alaric between my thighs.
My hand slips beneath my panties, parting my lips.
So good.
Beneath my fingertip, my clit is swollen, throbbing.
Oh. My. God.
I move it to where I ache for him, pushing one finger into my sex to get myself wet.
After seeing and feeling how big Alaric is, I’m dying to shove three or four fingers inside, to know what it’ll be like when he stretches me.
But since I don’t come as fast when I finger-fuck myself, I save it for another day.
Tonight, I slide my finger up and start drawing slow, then fast circles over my clit.
Fuck, I mouth, my lips moving against his boxers. Fuuuck.
I imagine Alaric’s here, licking my pussy. Heightening my arousal with his tongue on me. He won’t stop until I’m quivering and shaking, and even then, he’ll force another orgasm out of me.
I’m sure he will.
My hips thrust forward, bucking, searching. The back of my head rolls against the wall, my hair getting messier by the second.
I can’t slow, can’t be gentler.
I. Need. Him.
Sounds of pleasure claw up my throat. The hotter I get, the harder it is to fight them. I try anyway, clamping my teeth on my bottom lip as I rub myself.
My hot breath soaks through the fabric of his boxers, warming my face.
My chest hitches. My stomach tightens as I’m about to climax.
My eyes squeeze shut.
I’m there, fuck.
Right.
There.
Good girl.
The memory of his growly praise sends me straight into bliss.
An orgasm nearly as strong as the one Alaric gave me pulses through my body. It steals my breath, my heartbeats, my sanity.
I keep stroking myself, riding it out until the air seeps back into my lungs. When I can finally think again, I open my eyes, leaning more of my weight against the wall.
Removing his boxers from my face is torture.
It won’t be long before I have the real thing, though.
One more press of my ear to the door before I go. Just to make sure he’s okay.
I can’t hear words, only the low cadence of his voice, that masculine, authoritative mmm, mmm, mmm as the wall swallows the sound.
It’s enough. Whatever he’s doing in there, it’s safe.
He’s safe.
Now, I can leave.