Chapter 13 Reed
Reed
Powder kicks into the air as we pull into the driveway of the Airbnb, a small private townhome, located in the nefarious Muldoon neighborhood, nestled against Chugach State Park. The street is littered with abandoned vehicles and lawns with grills that should have been stowed away months ago.
“How were the reviews on this place?” Cooper asks, his eyes squinting.
I take a moment to answer. I’m too distracted with how the faint blue light of the dashboard catches his face—the slope of his cheekbones, the nervous furrow of his brows.
His skin looks ghostly pale and delicate.
Pretty, in a stupid, reckless way. The kind of unbridled innocence that gets you killed if you aren’t careful.
“Five stars,” I lie, shifting the Audi into park. “Four if you count the bullet holes in the garage door.”
His head whips at me, eyes bulging. I let a smirk spread across my lips. “Relax. Just jokes. Mostly…”
He exhales a tepid laugh, but I can hear the tone beneath it, that rapid heartbeat sprinting through the air. He’s trying to act nonchalant, but his hands are tucked into his thighs, still fidgeting—probably hyped up from the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
Fuck, he doesn’t realize how much he radiates. Fear. Curiosity. Trust. He smells like all three, a pristine cocktail that makes my mouth salivate. I grind my teeth. I could drown in his scent and throw in the towel.
“This neighborhood is sketchy,” he mutters, scanning the street. “I think that truck has been snowed in since last winter.”
“Relax, I’ll kill anyone if they try to lay a finger on your beautiful scalp,” I say, as a weird heat burns in my chest—something feral and unfamiliar breaking through the cracks of my outer shell.
The color rises in his cheeks, a shy, baffled grin forming with his lips. “That’s the sweetest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”
“Oh baby,” I murmur, the words oozing of promise and ruin. “I can be so much sweeter, and so much more rabid—if you let me.”
“What does that mean?” he chuckles, trying to hide his flush.
He watches me with a fervent intensity, his laugh fading to a softness that overtakes his face. “So… is that a threat? Or a guarantee?”
“Both,” I growl, leaning across the console to grab his blonde hair. The world outside dissolves into static as my lips collide with his to taste that unsullied innocence dripping from his saliva. His mouth is steaming warm and starving, chest quivering, as he lets my tongue seize control of his.
Our muscles tango in a ravishing dance of domination and submission. He’s perfect. He’s trainable. He wants to be like me. He’s not afraid of my past, or of the gore. He embraces it. Embraces me.
He’s mine.
I feast on his mouth for what seems like an eternity. The nectarous saliva sending me into a tranquilizing reverie.
When I pull away to allow us both a breath of air, the taste of him lingers. It’s addictive, like when you decapitate a molester. I can’t get enough.
I want to suffocate in his scent. To experience the dizziness of him over and over. To let him strangle the weakness from my being.
I lean back against the seat, laughing under my breath. “God, you taste like a sacrificial virgin,” I murmur, the words almost escaping my mind. “Sweet, self-destructive—like you’ve been waiting for the dark side.”
He licks his lips, swirling that tongue in a circle of divine temptation. “Like I was saving myself for damnation?”
“Careful,” I murmur, watching the way his tongue recedes behind his teeth. “You keep talking like that, I might believe that the Almighty sent you down for my destruction.”
He smirks, tilting his head, his halo of blond hair catching an angelic glow. “You talk like you would enjoy having your soul raptured.”
I chuckle, gravely, the sound rumbling up from somewhere deeply unholy. “Oh, baby,” I say, turning to face him fully. “If the rapture felt half as good as your mouth, I’d be the first in line for judgement.”
“Blasphemy,” he laughs, his voice glazed with sugar.
“I’ve killed many saints. None of them tasted like you. They all begged for mercy. You…” I pause, tracing a thumb along his jaw to feel his racing pulse. “You make me want to beg for more.”
“You have a really messed-up way of flirting.”
“Flirting?” I echo, leaning closer until the heat of our lips touch. “What if’s my version of worship?”
His smirk falters as I tilt his chin up, forcing his gaze to meet mine. The dashboard light washes him in pale gold, his skin almost lunar. It’s obscene, how someone this pure can exist next to me.
“You really think you can scare me?” he whispers, his voice dancing around the lie.
My smile sharpens. “No, Cooper. I think you want to be scared.” My thumb hovers over his jugular, feeling the rush of his heart.
“You’re a deranged little freak, same as me.
The kind that confuses cruelty for love.
” I pause, watching his pupils dilate. “If I hurt you, you’d come crawling back for more. ”
The air thickens between us, his lips quivering, while his fingers twitch, unsure of whether to push me away or pull me in close.
“You’ve lost your marbles,” he says.
I lean in to his ear. “Then why aren’t you running?” I whisper, watching the goosebumps ripple down his neck.
He exhales a shaky breath, his pupils dilated with fear and curiosity. “Because you’d catch me.”
I grin, slow and feral. “I know you would love it.”
His teeth grind, his pants bulge. “You’re out of your mind,” he mutters, his hand on the door handle.
“Run Boy,” I growl, close enough for the words to scrape his cheek. “Run.”
He bolts into the light of the moon, snow spraying into the air as he disappears between the pines. The door is ajar, the passenger light blinking on the dash, cold air slinking in the cabin. The crispness of the night wakes me up.
Nothing better than a pleasure chase.
I sit back, smirking to myself. He’s playful tonight. Reckless. And my hunger is insatiable. I imagine ripping off his jeans and pounding that tight ass into the snow. Make him freeze until he accepts my warmth. Until he performs to my satisfaction.
I’ll give him a few seconds. Maybe ten, if I’m feeling generous. The snow will give him away. Fresh prints and frosty breaths in the air—like little love letters in disguise.
The moon glows silver over the pines, a perfect spotlight for a little chase. Conditions have never been riper for a predator with commitment issues.
My pulse beats with excitement. True, unbridled joy, for the first time in years.
“Run, my little mouse,” I whisper. “And pray you’re fast enough to make me sweat for once.”