Chapter Nineteen
Bear
The door to my living room opens and slams against the wall, followed by the swish of the curtain.
I sit up straighter on the couch, my notebook falling beside me.
Zion storms through the room without so much as a glance my way before he leaves up the stairs, taking a wave of angry energy with him. Probably back to his trailer.
The corner of my mouth lifts, and I flip the pen around my fingers. What did our little princess do now? I knew she’d be fun when I first laid eyes on her. I was itching for a challenge, something that would light that fire inside me, and she’s exactly what the doctor ordered.
Judging by Zion’s swift exit, she’s not just affecting me but him, too, and that’s fucking perfect.
Zion needs something to loosen him up a little.
He thinks I don’t notice how cut up he’s been ever since his bitch of an ex died, and he’s been trying to see his kid, but I do. A distraction will be good for him.
I grab my notebook and pen, move toward the desk, and sit down on the chair to watch the live camera feed. Steam comes from the closed bathroom door. What’s she doing in there? What happened with Zion? I need to know. I need to see her.
Opening up my journal, I start scribbling down lyrics.
She’s an obsession, my only desire.
If we can’t have her, no one can.
What’s inside that mind of hers? Can we split her skull and find out?
I’m never letting her go. Oh, fuck no. She’s ours. Forever mine.
Movement catches my gaze on the screen, and I lean forward. Amirah emerges from the bathroom, a towel covering her chest. Her long, wet hair dangles down her back. I want to wrap every strand around my fingers and pull, watching the pain on her features. My cock stirs.
She moves toward the bed, dropping the towel. My heart skyrockets. Holy fucking Christmas. Jackpot. Jingle bells. I grip the laptop screen, trying to bring it closer. Her curves, her ass. I need to lock her up in a display cabinet in my bedroom.
She bends over, her pussy teasing me. I reach into my pants, my cock in my palm, and it’s only been an hour since I last jerked off to her, but hey, I’m ready to go again.
She’s such a fucking dirty little cunt, my captive.
She hops under the blankets, and I curse.
No. I want to see her. She leans back against her pillow, staring up at the ceiling.
The sheets start to move, and my eyes widen. This just got even more interesting. Did Zion turn her on? Is she . . . is she flicking the bean? Damn it. I wish I watched what happened before this.
Her eyes flutter shut, and her mouth opens just a fraction. She’s touching herself. Fuck me sideways. I need to get in there. My cock feels heavy in my palm. It needs to be inside her. I imagine her warm cunt tightening around me.
The sheets move up and down. I follow her pace. She says something, but I can’t fucking hear her. Where’s the fucking volume on this fucking camera?
We need to give her a helping hand. Now. Go.
I push back, the chair falling onto the ground with a bang.
I grab the new journal I brought for her before shoving my cock back into my pants, and I move like my ass is on fire.
I need to hear her come apart. Within seconds, I’m outside her door.
I press my ear against it. Her heavy breathing sends me over the edge. She’s so close.
She moans, and I put the code in and rip the door open. She screams as I storm over and rip the blankets off. Her finger rests between her inflamed folds. Her large tits beg me to suck them.
“Want me to finish you off?” I ask, grinning.
A wild look crosses her eyes. She shakes her head, but all I can see is approval in her gaze.
I throw her journal onto the bed before crawling closer to her, and she doesn’t move or push me away.
I sit over her legs, then grab her hand, bring her fingers to my nose, and inhale.
Her sweet, tangy scent fills every part of me. Fucking hell.
Her chest rises and falls to the beat of mine. Her silver necklace with the initials AL sits perfectly above her breasts. I need it as a souvenir. I grab the chain and pull. It snaps and falls from her neck, and she gasps. I shove the necklace into my pocket, wanting something of hers to keep.
“Give it back!” she snaps.
“It’s mine now.”
Her eyes darken and her lip curls back in a snarl.
She’s taunting me. Daring me to go further. I bring her fingers into my mouth, licking each digit clean. Her mouth opens, like she wants to say something, but she doesn’t.
I’m the devil and she’s my prize.
The door opens. Amirah looks toward the intruder, her eyes widening, but I don’t move a muscle.
“Get the fuck off her, Bear,” Kai says in a deep voice, and I laugh, pulling her fingers out of my mouth. She retracts her hand from my grip.
“Nah, she’s having fun,” I say, and Amirah shakes her head.
“Like fuck I am. Get off me, you psycho.” Amirah’s words feel like a bucket of ice-cold water thrown over my head.
I frown, looking at her. Psycho. I hate that word.
Anyone who has ever called me that ended up dead.
I can never hurt her, but that doesn’t mean I won’t punish her.
People don’t understand me, us, but I thought she did.
I thought she got my weirdness, but apparently not.
I roll off her and storm away. Kai says my name, but I ignore him, my shoulder banging into him on the way out.
I need to do something, anything, to release this anger. Confusion. Sadness. They’re all rolling around inside me. She called me a psycho? Not my princess. It feels as though she stabbed me in my cold, broken heart. And I didn’t even get to finish her off. Fuck my life.
***
I’ve been sitting back against the door to her room for hours. Replaying what she said. Psycho.
Just kill her. Make her pay.
I grip a handful of my hair, pulling. Pain rips through my skull. Why does it hurt so much? Why did she say that to me? I thought she liked me.
Who cares? She’s the enemy.
Footsteps come from the corridor. Zion walks toward me, holding a plate of food for Amirah. I stand, taking it from him.
“I’ll bring it in,” I snap, and Zion opens his mouth, but I glare at him. I’m not in the mood to deal with him.
He raises his hands, taking a step backward. “Whatever,” he mutters, before walking away.
I open the door, and Amirah looks up from the bed. I bring the plate of spaghetti over to her, and she takes it from me and places it on the bed. “Thanks,” she says.
I sit on the edge of the bed. Silence drags out between us.
“Why did you call me that?” I ask.
She finishes off a bite. “What?”
“Psycho?”
Amirah’s eyebrows fall, and she cocks her head to the side. Her gaze is heavy on mine, and I swallow hard. Maybe I should go. This is silly. Stupid.
Punish her. She deserves it.
“Oh, I didn’t realize . . . I hurt your feelings?” she asks, reaching out to place her hand on my thigh, and I nod, casting my gaze down.
So weak.
Shut up. I place both of my hands over my ears in an attempt to block out the noise inside my head, squeezing my eyes shut. The bed dips, and hands cover mine.
“Look at me,” Amirah says, and I obey, staring into her mossy-green eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you like this,” she says, and my heart skips a beat.
“Do you think I’m a psycho?” I ask, my voice trembling, and she shakes her head.
“I think the world doesn’t understand you . . . but I am starting to,” she says.
She drops her hands from mine, and I smile.
She really sees me. Understands me. God damn, I’ll remember this moment forever.