Prey Drive (Parallel Prey, #1)

by Jen Stevens

Sure, Mallory and I have hooked up a couple of times, but I have absolutely no interest in pursuing anything with her, especially now that I have my little lamb.

My thoughts are moving so fast, I hardly notice my prey walk through the dining room before me, taking a seat at a table merely twenty feet away with two other women. Instantly, my attention leaves Mallory and my father and lands firmly on her—my little Stardust, out in the wild. My gaze locks on her, and my mouth instantly begins to water. I need a taste.

As I'm about to give up and drop my gaze on the menu, it locks in on him, and my breath catches in my throat so abruptly, I nearly choke. It’s almost as if my thoughts have conjured him before me. He’s already staring my way, green eyes shadowed by thick eyebrows and the ambient lighting. The mask is gone from his mouth, exposing his sinfully gorgeous features in broad daylight. I'd know that face anywhere. Those haunted eyes. That structured demeanor. I'm absolutely positive it's him. He meets my confused scowl with a slight tick in his eyebrow—the only break in his unreadable mask. It can’t be. He can’t be here. He’s not even real. At least, not in my fragile mind. Maybe it's not the same him. But that wouldn't explain why he's staring at me that way. Like by simply existing here, in the same space as him, I’ve just earned the spot as his newest conquest.

Am I going to confront him in front of all these people? The answer is a strong and resounding, hell no. I know better than to start spewing some insanity about a man who breaks into my house at night and buries his face between my legs. That kind of story doesn’t bode well for the girl who just got out of the mental hospital. But, Jovie, if this guy was breaking into your house, why didn’t you call the police? Oh, no reason. I just thought he was a fucking ghost. What a complete idiot?

“Sexually assaulting you? If memory serves, you loved every second of it. Never even told me to stop,” he counters darkly, leaning his shoulder against the wall. “In fact, you begged me for more.”

“That was before I realized you were…” I trail off, too embarrassed to finish that sentence. Before I realized you were real.

GIRL STOP 😭

“I should call the police on you for what you’ve done,” I weakly threaten, refusing to engage in any sort of banter with this lunatic. “You won’t, though,” he says confidently, stepping forward into my back until his breath hits my cheek and sends chills down my spine. My traitorous body instantly reacts to his presence. He’s right, I won’t. No one believes the crazy girl who tried to kill herself. But he doesn’t need to know that. “How can you be so sure?” His nose grazes my jaw as his fingers swipe a few loose strands of hair away, fully exposing my neck to him. Sharp teeth graze against my skin until he nips at my shoulder, and I jump, hating the way it sends tremors pulsing between my legs. “Because you like it too much.”

“You loved having a strange man come for you in the dead of night. To make you scream like no other man has before.”

“No. You're clearly unhinged.” I smirk at that. “Am I?” Maybe I am. This whole thing has seemed so fucked up since the beginning, yet when I'm with her—against her—it feels so right. Even now, standing in a public women's bathroom where anyone could find us together, I feel a high I've never felt before. Not even when I kill. That's got to mean something. Right?

Killing. Stalking. Sexually assaulting, as she says. Though I'd never touch a woman without some form of consent. Even now, she hasn't told me to back away. In fact, her hips have begun to slowly rock against mine as ...

and I can't help but feel proud that she's looking to me for answers. My little Stardust knows exactly who her protector is.

Her lips are swollen from our kiss and her hair is in a disarray, but she looks as perfect as ever. My cock twitches at the idea that I did that to her.

Before she steps away, I grab her jaw and turn her back toward me. “I'll be there tonight to finish this,” I say, both in a promise and a warning.

“How long have you been here?” she asks with a quiver in her voice. She’s pinned against the front door, her handbag hugged tightly to her chest. I watch her eyes scan the room for what I assume is a weapon, and I allow myself to chuckle. That’s right, I laugh. It’s a foreign sound—one I haven’t heard since before Sienna died, I think. Stardust isn’t amused. Her dark eyes snap back to me, a scowl deepening between her brows. “You think any of this is funny?” she spits, eyes narrowed. “You’re afraid of me,” I point out, refusing to answer her obvious question. Of course, I think it’s funny. I had my fingers buried inside of her less than two hours ago, and now she’s looking for an item to smash against my head.

“Then come closer,” I challenge. Stabbing a finger toward the ground, she says, “This is my house.” “I thought we already cleared up that this was my house,” I point out uselessly, because it doesn't matter either way. I just want to irritate her as much as she irritates me.

“Yes, soon you’ll be paying those bills with your shiny new job at Lancaster Tech, correct?” Her furious expression falls. “How did you know about that?” “How else do you think you got the position?”

From fury to confusion to terror in a matter of minutes. The rapid transitions have me grinning like a cat. I do love to play with my meal.

But how… Why?” she stutters out, taking a big step away from me. When she does, my arm snakes around her back and pulls her toward me. Her heartbeat flutters against my chest, kickstarting mine for the first time in what feels like...

And because I know she’s done her homework on her new company like a good little employee, I lean forward until my lips graze against her ...

“Why?” I repeat the same stupid question. Does it matter why? This guy is obviously out of his goddamn mind and fixated on me for some ungodly reason. “I like you,” he says simply, as if that’s enough of an explanation. “You like me?” I repeat incredulously.

He’s bled into my life like a cancer, aggressive and impossible to cure. I’m suffocating on the man I had myself convinced was just a dark part of my imagination mere hours ago.

“Don’t run. I’ll catch you,” he warns in a deep, menacing voice.

“Ask me what you want to know,” he says more softly. “I’ve already asked, and you refuse to answer.” “Ask again.” “No more games?”

“What the hell do you want from me?” Shaking his head, he leans against the wall. “It’s not that simple.” “You told me to ask, and now you’re refusing to answer again.” “That’s a complicated question. I don’t fucking know what I want from you—that’s your appeal. The answer changes constantly.” “Why me?” I try again. “Because you happened to be here.” “I responded to an ad about this house. Are you telling me that was all coincidental?” He crosses his arms. “On my end, yes.” “What does that mean? Who else’s end is there?” “My father’s.”

“Who was the woman you were with?” “Were you jealous?”

Now, it's like I'm seeing him for the first time. I was right before. His full lips and dark stubble match the symmetry of his eyes better than I expected. Just standing there, he exudes power. It's impossible not to get swept away in his appearance or masculine energy. But I have to stop myself from thinking that way. This man is a predator. Just as a wolf or a lion can be beautiful to look at, they'll still rip you to shreds the second they get the chance. The moment you get too close. And I can tell that's exactly what he wants to do when my gaze lifts back to his eyes and sees how much they've darkened as he watches me take him in.

“No.” I'm not done asking questions, but his expression tells me he doesn’t give a damn.

I'm a patient man, and I've already come this far. I don't have many answers for her because I've never done this before, but I was willing to try if it meant wiping that horrified look off her face.

How is it that she can look so innocent and sinful at the same time? The epitome of forbidden fruit. My beautiful fig.

“Too bad,” I mumble in response to her rejection as her blood floods my mouth. “They'll have to wait.”

The second I get my mouth on her, she'll settle down. Or she'll begin screaming for a whole new reason.

“You want to play, my pretty little lamb?”

“Isn't that what you are? The innocent lamb who happened to cross my path at the perfect time?” I goad, because I can't resist. It’s too fucking fun to razzle her. “No. I didn't cross your path. You found me, remember?” Her panicked tone is rushed, insistent as her shoulders rattle in a shiver. “You're so fucking wrong.”

I was ready to kill her, when she enraptured me instead. When she gave me a whole new purpose: to consume her.

She tracks my every movement, anxiously waiting for me to grab her up and force myself on her. I won't, though. I'll never take from her without her permission. But I will have her crawling to me by the end of this. I'll take everything she has to offer me, and then some, because she fuels a side of me that I never knew existed.

“Come to me,” I command in an authoritative tone. She shakes her head once. “You can deny this all you want, but it will only delay the inevitable and further piss me off.” A daring, bratty scowl twists across her features. “Maybe I want to piss you off.” “Are you sure about that?”

“Crawl,” I demand at the last second. She scowls again, biting back her smart retort when I raise my brow at her in a silent challenge. Then, like the obedient little lamb that she is, she climbs onto her knees.

“Try to lie to me again, Stardust. I dare you.”

“I'm slumming it with you?” I ask, grinding my cock against her slick center. She's so fucking wet for me, I can't even stand it. “You think that's why I keep coming back here?”

“No, baby. I keep coming back here because you're mine, and I'm determined to claim you in every way possible.”

I want her to be overwhelmed with sensation—unable to escape it.

“Rest, Stardust,” I tell her as I lie her down onto her pillow, then take the spot beside her, tugging her close to my chest. “We've got all night together.”

If I have to endure one more conversation with a crusty old man flaunting his wealth to me, I'll throw myself off the thirtieth story balcony.

I'm not a good man. But I knew that making people like this even richer by trampling on those who work hard to earn every dime was going to slowly kill me.

“The Serpent Slayer is what he calls himself.” No, that's what the media is calling me.

“Perhaps the killer is tied to one of The Order's victims.” Ah, yes. There it is: the nail in his coffin. He's just guaranteed his own death with one long, sideways glance. “I wouldn't be surprised to find that's true,” I reply coolly, already envisioning all the ways he'll scream as I tear his flesh from his body.

He's nervous. As he should be. I'll be the boogeyman stealing him away in the dead of night. But for now, I direct my full attention to following him to ensure he doesn't have anyone else on my trail.

I fucked up with her in that restaurant last week. Then, I fucked up even worse when I met her here. The loss of control I feel around this woman has my head spinning. I can’t seem to find my footing on this rocky, uneven ground we’re standing on together. Letting her see my face again in the daylight is a huge risk. But so was buying the cottage. So was offering her a job at my company. This whole situation is a huge mess of risks wrapped up in a tangle of unfamiliar feelings and a shit-ton of broken laws. I have no idea how to claw my way out.

“I guess we’re both taking a leap of faith.” If only she knew what a huge leap she was taking with me. She would never go for it.

He turns to face me in my bed, careful not to allow any part of our bodies to intersect. His hands rest beneath his cheek, against the pillow, while those odd green eyes gaze at me. Into me. “Tell me to leave,” he urges in a calm, desperate whisper, taking me completely off guard. “Why?” I whisper back voicelessly. There're a million reasons why he should walk out that door. Every societal rule goes against what's happening between us right now. Every survival instinct screams within me to run. To call the police. To get away from this man who has clearly formed an unhealthy obsession with me. I know all my own reasons for telling him to leave. But I want to hear his.