Chapter 8
Holy fucking shit balls. I’m about to beg this fine-ass man to fold me like a deck chair and screw me from behind. Which isn’t very badass, serial man-killer of me but a girl clearly has needs, and Kincaid is testing every one of them.
He knows exactly what he’s doing. How to play me like a fucking fiddle, and it’s making me a desperate mess. My stomach clenches with need as I watch him round the car with ease, a sense of authority surrounding him like a swarm of killer bees.
Kincaid demands my attention without even asking for it.
The smoky yet sweet smell of his aftershave envelopes me as he slides into the car. His toned body melts perfectly into the seat, like it was made for him in mind and being this close to him almost has me gasping for air.
What the fuck is wrong with me? A hot, and respectful dude takes me out to dinner and I’m ready to lay on my back like a submissive dog.
It won’t be long before he has me barking.
The thought has me choking and I try to hide it with a cough behind my hand.
“Everything alright, love?” I expected a teasing tone from Kincaid but instead I’m met with genuine worry. His brows lift and he places a gentle hand on my arm to comfort me.
I clear my throat again. “I’m fine, just a cough that’s all.” I give him a genuine smile.
“We can reschedule if you’re not feeling well, I don’t mind?”
God, why the fuck does he have to be so nice? So fucking caring and genuine, not even the knowledge of him being a corpse fucker is enough to send me running to the hills. There must be something wrong with him, there has to be.
Maybe he has pineapple on pizza? That must be it. Or he wears socks to bed. There’s no way, after all the shit I’ve dealt with in my life, that a man like Kincaid would want me.
I shove away the sour thoughts and place my hand over his. “No, I want to go to dinner. I’ve been really looking forward to it.”
Kincaid smiles, showing off his perfect teeth. There’s also a small dimple at the left side of his mouth that I never noticed before. It’s cute.
Add cute to the list of things that Kincaid is.
He clasps my hand between his and starts to caress the top of my hand with his thumb. The metal ring that adorns it spins with every stroke. It’s enough to send me into a blissful sleep.
“Me too, I just hope you like where I’m taking you. You like Mexican food, right? Because if you don’t, I’m sorry but I’ll have to kill you.” He deadpans.
I want to say that he’s joking but with his activities, I’m going to assume that he’s being truthful, unless I’m the exception.
“I enjoy cooking, Kin. Of course I’m going to like Mexican food,” he smiles brightly, then just as he opens his mouth to speak again, I silence him with my finger over his lips. “Plus, even if I didn’t, I doubt you’d kill me. I think you like me too much.”
The darkness of his eyes seems to brighten at my words, and just to tease him even further I slip my manicured finger into his mouth, feeling the warmth of his tongue brush over the pad.
His teeth are blunt but his incisors are sharp as I drag my finger over the point. With each swirl of his tongue, my stomach coils until I feel as though I’m ready to burst.
And now, I’m not entirely sure who's teasing who.
Kincaid’s gaze is filled with burning lust as he gives my finger one last suck, then I slip it out of his mouth.
There’s a thin string of saliva that connects between my finger and his bottom lip, then it snaps.
I want to lick it away but he beats me to it by wiping across his lower lip with his thumb.
The act alone has me panting like a dog in heat. It won’t be long before I’m cocking my leg up to mark my territory.
“You’re right,” he murmurs, “I do like you too much, enough that I want to do terrible things to you. Just from your finger alone, I want to taste every inch of you. I want your whole body shaking as I take you to the pearly gates of heaven, and then right back down to hell with me, where you belong.”
I must look like a gormless fish as I stare at him with eyes wide and mouth open.
He lifts my chin with his finger to close my mouth.
“Chin up love, you’re dribbling.” He teases and I clamp my jaw closed, feeling the flush of embarrassment wash over my cheeks.
“You’re so pretty, all flushed like this. ”
Heat rises up my neck and I drop my gaze, severing the heated connection between us. “I’m getting hungry, Kincaid. You better feed me.” I tease, peeking at him out of the corner of my eye.
He chuckles beside me then starts the engine. It rumbles beneath the seat, adding a delicious sensation to my overly sensitive body. “Yes ma’am.” He quips with that boyish grin.
We’re in the car for about an hour, the rural streets whizzing past the window, street lights blurring into one. All the while the tension between us grows, it started off as a small flicker, a tiny ember and now it feels like a raging fire.
I know Kincaid can feel it with the way his gaze keeps flicking to me. I catch him every so often and he smirks, I think he likes the fact that I catch him. He shuffles in his seat and I watch out of the corner of my eye as he straightens out his trousers.
Something has got to give because I’m not entirely sure how long I’m going to be able to last in this confined space with this sex god.
If my pussy could talk, I’d have no doubt that she’d be begging for him to touch her, maybe even slip a finger in.
I feel as though my whole body is about to combust. Even my dress feels tighter than usual, all because of this raging sexual tension between us.
If Kincaid can elicit this kind of reaction from me just with harmless flirting and chaste touches, then I’m not entirely sure what’s going to happen to me when he decides to make good on his promise of delivering me to the pearly gates.
I think I might die.
Kincaid changes the gears with ease as we begin to slow down.
Twinkling fairy lights hang from trees outside of the restaurant, there’s also various potted plants and blooming flowers surrounding the entrance way.
It’s beautiful. I’m pretty sure the last date I ever had, the guy took me to a McDonald’s and then tried to finger me behind the bins.
There’s a very drastic difference between the two right now.
Kincaid cuts the engine and just as I’m about to pull open the door handle, he traps me in the seat with his arm across my stomach. “Don’t even think about opening that door by yourself.” He looks me dead in the eye, a sharp brow raised. Slowly I release my fingers from around the silver handle.
“You know I’m more than capable of getting out of the car myself?” I taunt with a smirk. He tips his head to the side but makes no effort to remove his arm from across my middle.
“You’re probably capable of a lot of things, love, but when you’re with me, it’s my job to do things for you.”
My heart flutters beneath my rib cage, it’s such a foreign feeling that I’m not entirely sure how to deal with it. Kincaid, without even trying, is digging deeper inside of me than any person ever has and I’m not ashamed to admit that it’s quite frightening.
I give him a small smile. “My apologies,” I raise my hands as best as I can to surrender.
“By all means, fulfil your gentleman duties.” He gives me a panty-dropping smile, then drags his hand across the expanse of my stomach before slipping out of the car.
I watch him with intent as he walks with powerful strides to my door then he pulls it open for me, extending his hand forward for me to take.
The metal rings that adorn his fingers gleam in the lowlights and I waste no time in slipping my hand in his.
Rough skin adorns his palms; probably from hours of hard work.
The sensation sends a delicious chill down my back and instantly my mind starts to wonder what his hands would feel like elsewhere.
Brynne, chill the fuck out, babe.
Like I was always meant to fit at his side, Kincaid loops his arm around my waist and pulls me closer as he closes the door behind me before pressing down on his key fob to lock the overly expensive car. Orange lights flash twice then he slips the key into his trouser pocket.
Being this close to him sends my head spinning. Every time I feel his body next to mine, my blood heats to an unhealthy rate. He’s smashing down all of my defences, brick by brick and I don’t think I want to stop it from happening.
I was brought up to be my dad’s son. The independent one, the one who figures things out on her own.
The one who never asks for help because that would show people that I’m weak, a failure because I had to let someone else inside my bubble.
From the age of sixteen I’ve been on my own, I’ve fought my own battles and lost plenty in that time too, so having someone like Kincaid bash through every wall I’ve ever built, to have him want to do things for me, even something so simple as opening my door, is so foreign to me.
The urge to truly let him in, even after everything that I’ve endured in my life, the attack from Chris– is strong but what if he hurts me? What if he lets me down in the long run and I’m left wandering aimlessly on my own again?
What do I do then?
The soft touch of his hand on my jaw to lift my head, pulls me out of the somber thoughts. His eyes are filled with worry, brows creased as he traces over my face. “Is everything okay? You look upset, I haven’t upset you have I?”
Fuck sake. Why does he have to also worry about me?
I blink my eyes a couple of times, forcing the stupid thoughts away. “You haven’t upset me, in fact, this is all very new to me and it’s nice.”
“Nice? Is.. is that a bad thing?” He says with such softness, like a timid boy and not the fierce man I see before me.
Worry lingers on his face, so without even thinking, I rise slightly onto my tiptoes to plant a soft kiss onto his jaw.
The short stubble brushes against my lips, then I whisper against his skin. “Never, this kind of nice is perfect.”
I feel him smile against my mouth then he turns slightly to face me. He’d only need to lean down a few inches and his lips would be on mine. We’d taste each other for the first time and my god do I want that.
There’s only us in the carpark surrounded by twinkling lights, his arms wrapped around me, my hands firmly on his shoulders. The world outside of us no longer exists. There’s no problems or worries, no men to kill off. It’s just him and me, and I’m scared to death.
Gently he lifts his hand from around my waist to brush my hair behind my ear, only on one side, then he brushes over my cheek and down my jaw with the backs of his fingers. “You’re perfect.” He whispers gently into the air between us.
“You don’t know anything about me.” I reply, throwing his own words back at him from the first time that we met.
He grins, “I don’t care because I’m more than willing to find out everything about you, and regardless of the darkness that you think you have, I’ll still want to know all the things that make you, you. ”
His words feel like a serrated blade in my chest. How can he want to know me like that?
Yes, he knows that I’ve killed before but he doesn’t know who or why I do it.
He doesn’t know that I had everything ripped away from me by a man.
He doesn’t know that I had to crawl through hell to piece myself back together.
He doesn’t know that I had to abort the baby that was created from rape.
And yet, Kincaid wants to know everything there is about me, regardless of how fucked up it is. Of how fucked up I am.
I can feel the tears brimming in my eyes, threatening to spoil the makeup that I spent hours perfecting but Kincaid doesn’t seem to mind. He uses the pad of his thumb to catch the tear in the corner of my eye before it falls.
“I can see the thoughts spinning around that pretty little head of yours, you’re worried about what I’ll find if I dig too deep, if I claw my way inside of you.
You’re afraid that what you are in here,” he says, placing a hand over my chest, “is too dark, too heavy for me to handle but you couldn’t be more wrong because my soul is probably just as dark as yours.
We’re just two fucked up souls, looking for a place to call home. ”
Home..
I’ve never had a person to call home.
Heat flares to life in my stomach, sending fireworks flooding through my system.
I lift my hand to place it on his cheek, instantly he settles into my touch but I can feel the flames burning in his eyes, his touch getting tighter around my waist, the hardness of his erection pressing into my stomach.
“Take me home, Kin.” I say breathlessly, “and if you want me to play dead, just ask.”
He runs his tongue across his teeth, a hunger so fierce it makes my chest ache. “You’re a filthy fucking girl, love. Maybe I want a warm cunt this time.”