Chapter 33 Riven #2
“You told me you gave Sloane my name, not my fucking number. What the fuck, man?” He’s pissed. I’m confused for a split second before my brain catches up. Sloane, my sneaky little investigative matchmaker.
“Well, like you said, Sloane is an investigative journalist. She probably found your number herself.” I laugh. “I’m guessing Lydia texted you?”
“Yes, she fucking did. And it’s a weird, long, wordy message. Not only do I not want to reply, but I wouldn’t even know how to reply to it.” I can practically see the smoke fumes coming out of his ears.
“Well, what did it say?” I ask, genuinely curious now.
“I don’t know. Some shit about her nickname and a Golden Retriever, and then she called me good sir,” he grumbles. I full-on laugh.
“I’m sorry.” I pause, still laughing. “Good sir? And, what? A dog?”
“Yes. Shut the fuck up, Riven. This isn’t funny. What am I supposed to do about this?” he asks seriously. Someone has to pull the stick from this guy’s asshole. I think Lydia might be the perfect person.
“I don’t know? Maybe reply to it?” I offer, to which he responds with a disgruntled, “No. Nope. Not happening. I told you, I am not seeing anyone right now.”
“Okay, fine. You asked, I gave you an answer. Don’t say anything, then. I’m sure she’ll just go away.” I hold back the chuckle begging to escape from my throat because I’m almost certain Lydia is not going to just go away.
“I’m glad you find this so hilarious. Thanks for nothing.” The line goes silent, and I know he hung up on me. This is too good. I honestly hope that Lydia keeps bugging him with weird, cryptic texts. I pull out my phone to shoot a text to Sloane.
Riven: Nice work on finding Cal’s number. You will have to pay for his little outburst over that text, though. I hope you aren’t still sore from the other night, darling.
MLN: Aw, did the big broody man-child not like his message? He’ll get over it. And as for me, I don’t think I’m sore enough, actually.
Riven: Take off your clothes and get on your bed. I’m coming.
MLN: Make me, professor.
Oh, I intend to, little nightmare. I pocket my cell and jump in the shower to quickly wash off and change.
I can’t hop in my car and get to her fast enough.
She’s like coming up for air at the last second after knowing for sure that you’d drown.
I can’t get enough of her. From the moment my eyes met hers at that concert, I knew that she’d be mine.
I resisted it as much as I could; I even tried to scare her off.
None of it worked, and it would never have worked.
I was drawn to her in that moment when time stood absolutely motionless.
Nothing existed in any plane except for her and me.
Our souls found one another, reaching out and grabbing hold.
Even if we didn’t realize it then, it kept pulling us back to one another until we collided.
I feel like I’ve only scratched the surface of her dark desires, and I want more.
I need more. I am desperate to know all of her.
I need to see all the parts of herself that she deems unworthy of love, and make sure that she knows how much I fucking do. I do love them.
I love her.
I know it in the deepest depths of my dark fucking soul, and maybe I’ve known it for a while now.
Not only did she catch me off guard with the way she held my attention in a choke hold, but I haven’t wanted to kill anyone since my eyes found hers.
She quiets the demons, lulling them to a deep slumber.
And then she woke them, nurtured them, and transformed them into doting house pets.
The urge to kill is gone, replaced only by her.
My little nightmare, chasing down my darkness to make room for her own.
The drive to her place was silent, apart from my constant stream of thoughts.
I practically trip out of my car and sprint to her door, walking right in.
I instantly disable her alarm system, not seeing her anywhere downstairs.
I run up her steps and into her bedroom to find her perched in her reading chair in the left corner next to her bookshelf.
The title of the book reads Lights Out, and it sports a fucking mask on the cover. How typical, and also how ironic.
I lean over, placing my hands on my knees to suck in a breath. She grins, but continues staring into the open pages of her masked man porn.
“Winded, professor?” She smirks, eyes never leaving the page in front of her.
I stand up and lean back against the door frame, turning to face her.
“Me? No, of course not. I’m just wondering why you aren’t where I asked you to be.
Does that book have all of your attention?
Should I just leave?” I tease, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning back against the door frame.
She sets the open book down across her chest and finally gives me those eyes.
I avert my eyes to trail them down her frame.
She’s wearing a workout top and shorts, her hair falling in loose waves down her back.
“It’s very interesting, if you must know. I couldn’t tear my attention away from it. I must have lost track of the time.” She’s grinning like she knows exactly what she’s playing at.
“Josh, the main male character, really is such a—” I stalk toward her, not allowing her to finish that little sentence of hers.
“I don’t want to hear another fucking man’s name in your mouth ever again, darling. But do tell me, what is it that Josh does that I can’t do better?” I grab the book and toss it to the side, pulling her against my chest. Her eyes widen, and her rosy cheeks give her true intentions away.
“I … he … nothing,” she says, breathless.
I chuckle. “That’s right, darling. Nothing. Now, get on the bed and take off your clothes before I do it for you.” I grind my teeth, barely holding my restraint. All I want to do is rip the clothes from her body and make her pay for that attitude.
She swallows, side-stepping to walk to the bed and climb onto it. She makes a show of it, crawling to the middle and then rolling over to lean back against her elbows. She lets her legs fall to either side, but doesn’t try to remove any clothing. I flex my jaw.
“Sloane,” I warn. “Clothes.”
She smiles sweetly. “Oh, these?” She looks down at her fully intact clothing. “I think I like your idea better.” Fuck.
I move, as slowly as my body will physically allow me to, and grab her ankles. I pull her forward, and she gasps, falling back against the bed.
“What did I say about disobeying me, Sloane?”
“Hmmm, I don’t know. I must have dozed off during that lecture,” she snarks. Oh, she thinks she’s clever.
“Is that so?” I ask, running my hands up her thighs and to the waistband of her workout shorts. Goosebumps erupt like tiny following footprints. I hook my fingers inside her shorts.
“Mhm,” is all she manages to get out this time. I pull her shorts down, making sure to take my time. She’s got on a lace green thong that makes my already hard cock strain against my boxers. I bring my eyes back to hers to find that she’s grinning.
“Wear these just for me, darling?”
“Oh, these?” She looks down. “Nahhh. I wear these all the time.” She wants to play, does she?
I chuckle darkly, pulling her shorts completely off her legs and tossing them to the side. I run my hands up her thighs again, slowing down to run my fingers over the lace. She exhales, flexing her hips into my touch. I run my thumb over her clit, softly, earning a throaty moan in response.
“Mmmm. You look so good in these.” I run my hands up and under her shirt, raising it slowly.
Her eyes find mine, and her black pupils nearly eclipse the green.
I run my hands up and up and … more lace.
I lift her shirt up and over her head, throwing it to the side.
I make sure the shirt lands right on that damn book, so that I don’t have to think about Josh for the rest of the night.
I look down to find that she’s wearing a matching lace top. “I guess you wear this all the time, too?” I joke.
“Yep. Every day, all day.” I dart my tongue out and make a show of swiping it across my lips.
I’m imagining what she’d look like walking around in this set all day, every day.
I intend to make that happen. I continue running my hands over the lace, passing my thumb over each nipple in the process.
She arches into my hand, her breath quickening.
Her perky tits rise and fall in perfect harmony.
“So perfect, Sloane,” I rasp, bringing my mouth down to her right nipple.
I grab it lightly between my teeth and tug, evoking a quick inhale followed by a breathy pant.
I move to the other one, doing the same as the first. She sits up onto her elbows to get a closer look.
That’s my girl, such a quick study. I look up at her through the loose strands of hair that have fallen over my eyes, and give her a look that’s sure to let her know that I’m up to no good. She shudders, biting on her lower lip.
“Mmm. What should I do to you first, darling? I hope you didn’t have any plans tonight, because I don’t plan on leaving this room until you forget about every single one of those book boyfriends.” She gasps, mouth shooting open.
“What, darling? You don’t think I know what you’ve been reading?
” I tease, trailing kisses up her neck. I pause when I reach her ear, and I whisper, “My name is the only name I want you screaming when I make you see galaxies that you didn’t even know existed.
My name is the only name I want you remembering when you use your vibrator alone in the dark.
” Yeah, I might have watched her last night on the security cameras.
Like I said, she’s mine. I pull away to glance up at her face.
Her freckle-dusted cheeks are alight with that familiar shade of pink, and her eyes are that shade of green that tells me that I have her exactly where I want her.
“Say that you’re mine, Sloane.” I’m suddenly feeling possessive, and I need to hear her say the words.
“I’m yours,” she says, breathless. Her eyes are like daggers that dig a hole straight through to my black heart. I can feel it changing, melting into a puddle for the creature before me.
My eyes dart back and forth between hers, looking for any sign that she feels as deeply as I do.
My gaze flicks down to her mouth as she swipes her tongue over her lower lip.
When I bring my gaze back to hers, she’s staring at my mouth.
I bring up my right hand and run my thumb over her cheek and down to her lips.
I cup her jaw in my hand and bring my mouth down to hers, unable to resist any longer.
The kiss is slow and steady. It’s coming home after a long day, or waking up to watch the sunrise above the horizon.
Our lips move together in perfect unison, like moving musical parts that come together to form a perfect melody.
It’s sensual and seductive as we move with one another.
She moans into my mouth, opening up as our tongues meet.
The kiss quickly transpires into pure desire. Her hands find my hair, grabbing and tugging. My hand slips beneath her arched back to unclasp her bra. I pull it off and toss it to the side. I break the kiss to move down and pull off her thong, tossing it over my shoulder.
She sits up and grabs the hem of my shirt, tugging it roughly over my head.
I help her get it all the way off and hurriedly move down to my pants, grabbing and tugging them down my legs.
She eyes the bulging silhouette in my boxers, pupils blown, lips puffy and swollen.
I take a second to look her over, trying to grasp how fucking perfect, and how fucking mine she is. She tilts her head.
“What?” I ask.
“Oh, nothing. You’re just so damn …sexy,” she says as she averts her gaze, suddenly feeling shy although she’s stripped bare and wide open before me.
I love how she gets self-conscious when she frees her thoughts from her captive mind.
I reach down and tilt her chin up, bringing her eyes back to mine.
“That’s it, Sloane. I want your eyes here when I free you from the chains you hold yourself in. I want to watch you lose control. I want to see how pretty you are when you’re truly free.”