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Bash strolls a few feet into the space before he turns back to face me, hands in his pockets. He almost seems… nervous? Is it possible that my stalker is just as anxious about having me here as I am about being here?
Quickly cutting off another bite, I repeat the motion, not bothering with manners or politeness when my stomach is empty and rumbling. Everything else fades away as I experience true bliss for a few short moments. Maybe I'm not a picky eater, just a bad cook.
Dropping my fork to grab the fabric napkin he set beside me, I delicately dab at my mouth, mortified to find that my lips were covered in red tomato sauce.
“You're truly an exquisite creature,” he comments, an impressed smirk kicking up the side of his mouth. It seems like it would be a jab, but his tone and expression say otherwise.
“Bash,” I moan, unable to bother with coyness or feigned shyness anymore. There’s no time to play games. I just want him to fuck me.
“That’s right, baby. Tell me who this pussy belongs to,” he praises, rubbing my clit.
“You’ve been a very bad girl today,” he chastises, his lips pursed. “I think it’s time I teach you how this thing is going to work between us. You’ve been spoiled.”
“You're ravenous,” he chortles, but doesn't pull himself away. Instead, he bucks his hips forward and grinds against me with equal fervor, his breaths growing uneven as the pleasure builds.
“We'll just have to do it the old-fashioned way, then.” A large palm gently smooths over the supple skin, fingers squeezing and shaking as my ass jiggles before him. Then a loud smack pierces the air as he slaps me with his whole hand, sending burning flames dancing across my flesh.
“Promise me you won’t give me any more shit about staying with me,” I hear his low, husky voice plead from behind. At least I can rest well knowing this is torturing him just as much as it is me.
“I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”
An orgasm begins rolling through me embarrassingly quick as I fall forward into the mattress, incapable of even holding myself up as he drills into me from behind. Once the wave passes, he flips my body over again and nestles himself between my legs, capturing my mouth into a mind-numbing kiss as he proceeds to make me orgasm three more times before we pass out beside one another.
Waking up beside Stardust feels like I’ve somehow cheated my way into Heaven and stolen a slice of it to bring back down to Earth with me.
“Tell me more about you,” she says with a jovial lilt to her voice, and I can't help the way my stomach drops at her request. I’d do anything to keep the content glow radiating off of her right now. To make the sparkle in her eyes more permanent. But I can’t give her what she wants. The more she knows, the higher the chance she’ll want to run in the other direction.
With a heavy sigh, I lift my eyes to the ceiling and try to pull some menial fact about myself out of thin air that won’t make her want to scream. What are my hobbies? Torturing and killing people. What do I do in my spare time? Hunt the people I plan to torture and kill. And occasionally stalk you. What’s my relationship like with my family? Well, I’m currently running through a list of people to torture and kill because they murdered my sister. Oh, you want to know about my parents? Well, my mother is practically catatonic and my father’s danced his way onto said list of people I want to
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“You pretend that you’re this horrible person, yet you’ve done all these amazing things. It’s like you want me to hate you.”
“You’ve said so yourself: I’m a monster,” I remind her, throwing her words back into her face.
When she tilts her head and stares at me impatiently, it’s as if her cruel words from less than twenty-four hours ago don’t count anymore. But they do. They count more than anything, because that was her opinion of me before she had every bullshit lie shoved down her throat by my assistant. It's easy for me to accept that the rest of the world may perceive me that way. It's harder when it comes from someone I care a...
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No matter what I do, you can’t rationalize my sins with a few weak attempts at redemption. I’m still the monster lurking in your shadows.” “Something tells me that’s just the mask you choose to wear to push people away…” “No, it’s not a mask. It’s the real me, Stardust. I’ve done horrible, unthinkable things in the name of revenge.”
Despite her best efforts, a single tear leaks from her eye and rolls down her cheek, and my strong little lamb doesn’t even bother wiping it away.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she says brokenly into her lap. “You tell me all these horrible things, expecting me to run in the opposite direction, and I know that’s what I should be doing. Anyone in their right mind would run straight to the police after what you’ve done to me. But I can’t fucking do it. It’s still not enough to make me bail on you, because I know you. I know you probably have a good reason to do all of that. And I think that says more about me than anything else.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect in every single fucking way.” More tears spill over, and her face crumples. “Then why can’t I walk away?” “For the same reason I can’t seem to stay away to keep you safe: we were made for each other. Even though you’re the brightest fucking star in the galaxy, and I’m just a black hole that sucks the life out of everything. Even though being with me could completely implode your life. You make everything feel less hopeless.”
“No, it doesn’t, but who said anything has to make sense? If it feels good, why can’t we just run with it?”
Who the hell is this mushy bastard speaking for me right now? Sebastian Lancaster doesn’t spew shit like this.
“What time is it?” she asks in a sudden panic, her back shooting straight up to look around for a clock. My gaze slips over to the alarm clock sitting on the dresser across from me, and hers follows. As soon as she sees that it’s past seven, she jumps out of bed, a string of cuss words falling from her mouth that makes me smile as she hops over me and begins running around the room, gathering her clothes. “Turns out, I know the boss. He doesn’t give a shit if you’re on time,”
But I caught enough shit yesterday about you. There’s no way in hell I’m walking in late, especially like this.”
“Who gave you shit?” I’m asking from the doorway, ready to fire whoever disrespected my little lamb on her first day.
“No one. I need to shower.” “Save time and shower with me,” I offer, leaning my palm against the top of the door jamb to give her a full, uninterrupted view of what I’m offering. My smile falls when she rolls her eyes and blows out an exasperated breath.
“We're going to grab a coffee. You look like you could use one,” he says with a wink. “I'm okay,” I tell him, ignoring his assistant's eyes burning holes into the side of my head. “I was just going to walk around for a bit. I've never been here before, and I've always wanted to see the square.” Bash's eyes crinkle in amusement, and he chuckles lightly, like there's another inside joke I'm missing out on. “Time Square is still quite a ways away,”
“This was my sister's,” he explains, holding it up in front of his face with a look of pure misery. “It's beautiful.” Those gorgeous green eyes, now a shade lighter than I've ever seen them, flick from the locket to me in a silent debate. Until, without warning, he grabs my shoulder and spins me around, swinging the necklace in front of my face so he can put it around my neck. “I want you to have it.”
Stepping away, I shake my head adamantly. “I can't take this from you, Bash.” But he pulls me back, clasping it together before I can protest any more. “I want it to go to someone who appreciates it as much as she did, and I can't do that. There's a picture of me and her inside. You can toss it and put your own in there.”
“Thank you,” I tell him genuinely. “I'll make sure it stays in good hands.”
“Your sister meant a lot to you, but you never talk about her,” I point out, hoping I'm not prying too much.
“I can’t stay with you Bash. I don’t even fucking know you.”
“That’s bullshit. You know me better than anyone else.”
“Goddamnit, Jovie, this isn’t about the fucking job. It’s not about your shitty family. It’s about protecting your life. It’s about reaping the consequences for laying down all your inhibitions and allowing a monster like me around you.”
“Protecting my life? Bash, you aren't making any sense. What the hell are you wrapped up in? What changed this week?” “Everything,” is all he says.
“Just fucking go then, Stardust,” I roar, pointing my finger toward the door behind her. She peers at me with tear-stained cheeks and shakes her head, once again refusing to acknowledge the truth staring right back at her.
“Want to know the truth?” I shout like a madman, my face reddening as my blood pressure rises, my body's way of warning me against what I'm about to do. “Don't do this, Bash,” Sienna warns from the corner of the room.
“I’ve hunted and tortured and killed for no other reason than I wanted to. I fucking crave my victim’s blood like an addict craves their next hit. I stalked you, for fuck’s sake. I’ve lived in your house beside you, stayed in your spare bedrooms for days at a time, and you had no idea. You can’t just ignore that part of me to make this seem more viable.”
“I don’t know what you want from me. What am I supposed to say to all of this?” she cries out, the dam finally bursting as she releases the reaction I’ve been trying to pull from her all along. What do I want from her? Every-fucking-thing.
I just want to feel alive again, and she's the only one who does that for me. But my message is getting muddied. I’m confusing her. I’m confusing myself.
“I want you to have a normal life, free of stalkers and murderers. You deserve peace, Stardust. The kind of peace I can’t give you. But the selfish side of me wants to hold you in my grasp for as long as possible. To throw you in a cage and feed off your innocent soul because mine is so tattered, I can hardly recognize myself.”
Stardust takes a brave, large step forward into the gap I’ve intentionally placed between us. “Fine. I want you, Bash. No matter the cost. But I can't just drop my whole life and never return. We can do this together the right way.”
He shifts on his feet, opening the gap even farther. “Imagine my surprise when one of those men comes to me with a proposition… a shit ton of money in exchange for my mousey little ex-girlfriend.”
Death calls to me with her familiar, slow lullaby. She sounds so inviting, so peaceful. I want to drift away and escape all this pain and suffering. She agreed to give me a second chance, but it's only made me even more sure that this is what I want. To be with her… I need this.
Just as I'm about to reach out and touch my old friend, a blur of blonde hair flashes in front of my eyes, forcing me to turn and focus my eyes above. The blur appears again, faster this time. As if it's urging me to see something… to do something. Death's song fades farther away, and I can hear Gabe’s heavy footsteps trudging up and down the hall. I could swear a woman yells something above my head, snapping my attention back to the counter, where I can now see my butcher block is sitting right on the edge. I blink at it slowly. That's weird. I don't remember moving it there. It's always
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Men are so weak. Women are capable of enduring days of labor pains, then pushing entire human beings out of their bodies, nearly splitting themselves in half in the process. We shed the linings of whole-ass organs and bleed quarts of blood every month, yet we’re still expected to do the same jobs as men during that time. For less money, I might add. And here he is, crying because of a little cut to his manhood. Pathetic.
Gabe’s eyes grow impossibly wide as I hold the knife above him, his limbs paralyzed in fear. Without a second thought, I drop my hands and jam the knife into his neck. This time, there’s no screaming. Instead, blood pours out of the wound, dropping down the side of his mouth as he makes distorted gurgling sounds. Something about the sight breaks an integral piece inside of me. It severs a part of my conscious, and I turn into an raging beast. Perhaps this is the sweet addictions my mystery man feels when he kills. Maybe we're more alike than I thought.
I'm about to dig my blade into Charles's thigh for the third time when Sienna appears behind him, eyes wide and mouth open in pure panic.
