“It’s ok to ask for it. I’m more than willin’ to give it.” Her eyes flicker between mine. Hell, I just met the girl and I can see that need she has. Any smart man would see it.
“I couldn’t.” She shakes her head. I stand up and grab her hand, pulling her toward the hallway.
“Which room’s yours?” I ask her softly. Her hand shakes in mine. She doesn’t know what to do.
“Last one.” I lead her into the room, closing the door behind me.
“Take all your clothes off.” She turns to look at me, torn between doing what she’s told and waiting to see what happens with her man.
“He ain’t comin’ back, but I’m here.”
Her eyes fill with tears. She knew it was coming. But here’s the thing - I don’t do tears. I don’t do emotions. Too messy…too much.
I turn to head back out when she says, “Wait. Please. It’s just been a really long time.” I lower my hand from the knob and turn to face her. “You’re in the club with my brother, right?” she asks. I nod once. “You wouldn’t say anything to him, would you?” A small smile pulls across my face.
“That’s not how I work, sweetheart. I don’t play and tell.” She gives me a soft smile before pulling her shirt over her head. I watch her take her clothes off, tossing them to the floor. Once she’s naked I stalk toward her. I lean down and kiss her roughly, my dick struggling to keep control.
I break the kiss and push her back onto the bed knowing I don’t have much time with her before Bic comes back.
I drop down and grab her thong off the floor, twirling it around my finger. “Hands above your head,” I tell her. Her breathing becomes labored. She raises her hands above her head when I climb up on top of her.
I look down at her before pressing my lips to hers. Her eyes close, which is what I wanted. I bring the thong up and instead of tying her wrists I wrap it around her throat. I pull away from her lips when her eyes snap open. I look down into her eyes, her lips part. I pull the thong tighter cutting off her air supply. My dick jerks against her as her hands come down. She claws at me when I hear the bang. Dan’s dead.
I look over my shoulder when I hear the sound, but now that her fighting has slowed, I bring my eyes back to hers. There it goes.
The life.
The light.
It begins to leave her and soak into my pores. Just before she’s gone, I stop. I have no reason to kill her. She isn’t like the rest of them. She was an easy fuck and that’s it. She gasps, pulling air into her lungs as I hold a finger to my lips. She understands me. I climb off the bed and head out the door. It was just in time to see Bic walking back toward me.
“You done?” I ask, checking my phone.
“Yeah, let me tell her bye,” he says.
Panic inserts itself into my chest. I’ve never felt that before but I do now. He can’t go in there and find her the way I left her. I will have to handle him ahead of time.
“No,” I growl. “We need to go. You can call her later. Demon sent a text saying he needs us, but I need to stop and grab some shit from the house. Leave your bike,” I say in a hurry as I move toward the truck.
With a huff, Bic follows.
Fucking idiot.
Chapter 8
My heart slams in my chest. This is the first time that I’ve ever had a man in my basement. I don’t know how I feel about it either. Typically, my dick gets hard thinking about the woman that I will bleed dry and fuck, but that’s not the case this time.
“Just through here,” I tell Bic as I usher him through the basement door. He walks in ahead of me when I grab the brick that lies on the floor at my feet. I know I could take him, but that would take all the fun out of the torture.
I slam the brick into the back of his head and watch him fall the floor. I know a man his size won’t stay down long. I move quickly. I strip him of all his clothes, finding myself intrigued by his body. I attach the chains to his wrists and hoist him into the air. The metal beams that line the basement ceiling are proving to be useful now that I have a man down here. I drop to my knees and attach his ankles to the chains that are hooked to the floor.
Once I’m satisfied that he isn’t going anywhere, I take a step back and admire him. He’s toned, that I already knew. I mean, fuck, we did work out together.
His stomach is ripped, showcasing his six-pack abs. His tattoos run the length of his stomach with one going further down his thigh. I lick my lips wondering what the hell is wrong with me. I’ve never been into men, but I find myself drawn to his body like a fucking magnet.
I walk toward the dresser and pull my knives free as I let the thought of him hung there bleeding roam aimlessly around my head. A chill races down my spine. Maybe it’s from finally having this asshole here. I situate them on the small table near the bed when I hear him groan.
“What the fuck are you doin’?” he growls, sounding a little like he’s in pain.
“You know, that’s always the question I get.” I answer as I pull my shirt over my head. I don’t usually make people bleed unless I’m naked. Don’t ask me why, it’s just one of the fucked-up things I do.
Bic watches me as I strip. “What the fuck is this shit, Drake!” he shouts louder. He pulls at his wrist restraints but he isn’t going anywhere.
“You know what I like, Bic. You said you saw me. How much did you see?” I ask when I’m completely naked. I pick up the smaller knife. It may only be a few inches long but it will cut through a piece of bone with no problem.
I walk toward him as he eyes me.
“What the fuck, brother? You kill. I know that. You do it all the time for the club.” I nod once.
“But I also do it for pleasure. You don’t understand the mind of a killer, Bic. You don’t know what kind of things run wild in here.” I point to my head with the tip of the knife.
“We can help you, Drake. Whatever the fuck it is!” I can’t believe he is trying to rationalize with me but there’s no point. I grin. No one can help me. No one.
“No. You can’t, and if they guys ever knew what I do, they would be sick. They would look at me like the sick fuck that I am!”
I walk behind him and place my hand on his shoulder. The heat of his skin surprises me.
“Don’t do this shit, Drake,” he begs softly. He’s trying to play on my emotions. The problem is I don’t have any. None. There is nothing there. Nothing left.
“You feel just as soft as they did,” I say running my hands over his back. I feel all the defined muscles and my dick begins to stir.
“What the hell, Drake!” Bic roars. I smile because he doesn’t understand. Not yet.
“I could gag you. Would you like that?” I ask, pressing the tip of the knife to his shoulder blade. I pull it slowly and gently, barely making a scratch but just enough that the blood rushes to the surface.
“Drake! I’ll fuckin’ kill you!” he roars. I chuckle before I walk back to the dresser.
“Death is easy. It’s calmin’ yet erotic when taken the right way. We all have to accept that we will die at some point. It doesn’t matter how we get there, just that we will,” I tell him grabbing the gag. I walk back toward him as a new look takes hold of him. Is that the fear? Is that the panic I felt when I thought he’d ruin my plans for him and find what I did to his sister?