While She Sleeps: The Dirty Heroes Collection

by René, Dani

  “Could I come down with you, please?” I attempt to give him my most submissive stare, praying he’ll see I’m trying here.

  “No.” He tugs the door shut, and I hear the key turning and the lock falling into place once more. Sighing, I move toward the bed and settle on the mattress. Curling up, I stare out the window, taking in the gray clouds. The sun is trying to peek through, but it’s hidden now. Earlier, it was warm in the room with the sunlight, but now that it’s gone, a cold shiver trickles its way over me.

  I shove the blankets down before slipping under them and pulling them up to my chin. My eyes feel heavy, but my stomach grumbles at the idea of getting a sandwich and some coffee.

  * * *

  My eyes open, and a scream lodges itself in my throat. Logan is standing over me, watching me with heated desire burning in his gaze. His hand planted firmly on his crotch, stroking himself gently through the material.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I told you, Beauty, I love watching you sleep.” The dark smile on his lips makes him look handsome, alluring, and dangerous at the same time.

  Shock lances through me, and I realize he did tell me. He was honest. While we spoke online, he didn’t hold back once he told me his needs.

  “But,” I mumble, unsure what to say. How can someone want that? I mean. It makes no sense to be turned on by . . . Shaking my head, I push up against the headboard. “I don’t understand. Is that why you brought me here?”

  “I brought you here to keep you safe.”

  “Yet, you’re violating that safety.” My words are harsh. Logan visibly winces at my retort, but before I have time to feel guilty for what I said, I tell him, “I mean . . . You can’t just come in here and . . .” I wave my hand in the air, unsure how to even describe what he was doing.

  “I know. I mean, I brought your breakfast, and then I saw you lying there, beautiful, dreaming, and I couldn’t stop myself.” His words are pained. I don’t have time to say anything more because he rushes from the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

  Silence greets me. The room is suddenly colder, harsher than I remember it being before I fell asleep. I look up at the vanity and notice the tray sitting there. A steaming mug along with a plated sandwich call to me, and for a moment, I forget about our interaction because my stomach growls painfully.

  I scoot to my feet, padding over to the vanity, and grab a piece of the sandwich, which he cut into small triangles, and I bite into the soft bread. It’s still warm as if he’d just baked it himself, and the flavors of butter and cheese melt on my tongue. I can’t help but groan in pleasure as the food finally makes its way down to my stomach.

  I haven’t eaten in a while, and this is delicious. I quickly finish the rest of the sandwich before I grab the coffee and settle back in bed. The mug sits on the nightstand, and I glance out the window, noticing how the sky is slowly turning dark.

  I’ve lost track of time being here. I can’t imagine it’s been more than a day, maybe two. But I have slept more than I have done in a long while. The door slides open after I hear the lock clicking, and Logan saunters in.

  He makes his way toward me silently, setting down a stack of books before he turns for the door. He looks tense, his shoulders bunched, and his head bowed. Suddenly, I see the broken prince he claims to be.

  “Wait.”

  He responds, “I’m not letting you out of this room, Vera,” he mumbles under his breath.

  “No, I . . .” My voice falters. I want to tell him something to keep him here. I feel lonely, and his presence, even though I’m still angry, makes it more bearable.

  “Then what?” He glances at me over his shoulder. I notice the glasses he was wearing yesterday, rim dark eyes that look right through me. There’s something haunted about him. A darkness I can’t read, but it’s there, creasing the corners of his eyes.

  I have to admit he’s handsome. He’s tall, broad, and more man than boy. His angular jaw and sharp features make him look scary like he’s a mountain man who could so easily fling me over his shoulder and saunter into the woods without anyone stopping him.

  “Vera?” My name pulls me from the thoughts racing through my head.

  “Can you sit with me?” Even though the question is whispered, I know he heard because his expression changes from angry to sad. “Just for a little while.”

  I don’t know why I want him here, close by. But I do. There’s a pull between us, something I can’t deny because I feel it every time he’s near me. As if we’re magnets, a positive and negative being drawn together.

  I don’t know what to make of it.

  But I know it’s something dangerous.

  12

  Logan

  What can I say to her?

  How can I deny her?

  I don’t respond, but I do nod. I suppose it’s my kind of reply. I turn and head for the chair, perched in the corner of her room. She eyes the door but then seems to think better of it. She should know that even if she makes it downstairs, there’s no way she’s getting out of the house. I’ve locked her in. Safely.

  “Do you like living out here?” she asks, startling me because I didn’t expect her to want to talk. I’m not sure I’m ready to speak about my life or what I need or want. Even though I gave her more of me through a website, I don’t think she needs to hear about me face to face.

  The anonymity of being online was easy. This? This is something completely different. It’s dangerous. I can’t let her get under my skin. And even as I think it, I know it’s a lie because she’s already there, burrowing her sweetness and innocence down into the depths of me.

  She watches me, waiting for an answer, but I just shrug, pulling my phone out of my pocket and focusing on the email from Dax. Nothing more came after his initial email, and I know we’d be in more trouble if it weren’t for him helping me.

  I’m not sure how long it’s going to take for them to get information, but I have a feeling my father will find her apartment before that happens.

  “How long were you hiding out?” I ask her, but I don’t look at her. I don’t want to see the pain etched on her from knowing my father would marry her, bed her, and make her give him more children.

  He may have waited until she was eighteen, but that doesn’t excuse him from what he wants to do. I look up to see her staring out the window. She doesn’t want to tell me, but I need to know.

  “Vera, when did you run?”

  “When I turned eighteen. I got one of my father’s trusted contacts to make me new paperwork, ID card, passport, but I couldn’t leave. I wanted to fly away, perhaps find a life in a new country, but I never got as far. The thought of leaving my father, even after what he did, wasn’t something I wanted to do.”

  “So you stayed in harm’s way?” I know I sound rude and callous, but the thought of my father finding her, touching her, has jealousy coursing through me. I want to kill the fucker for even attempting to marry her.

  “And you’re here because?” She turns to me. “If you hadn’t walked out, I wouldn’t have to live in captivity.” Her anger is back, and it’s warranted because she’s right. But how could she even think I could want her back then? “All I wanted was a normal life,” she tells me wistfully, but her eyes are trained on the window. On the forest beyond. Even if she did get out of the cabin, she wouldn’t get far because there’s nothing out there.

  “And what exactly is a normal life?” I ask, wanting to give her that more than anything, but even though I do, I know it’s impossible.

  “A home somewhere scenic, a playful dog, maybe even someone who loves me. A partner who can take the darkness that courses through my veins and make me see it’s not stupid or crazy. Someone who accepts that I need those things. Pleasure. Happiness. Things that normal people have.”

  “What about children?” I don’t know why I ask, but it’s something I need to know. For me. For her. I want nothing more than to take her, give her those things. I can hea
d into town and find a dog for her. I can even take those dark desires and make them mine. She once accepted my needs, but then again, at the time, it was all fantasy. She wasn’t really here. I wasn’t really stalking her while she sleeps and getting myself off.

  “Perhaps.” There’s a sad smile on her face, then she turns to me, directing those gem-like eyes on me, and I feel my heart kick against my ribs. The pain of the rhythm steals the breath from my lungs. “What about you?”

  I’m not ready to talk about that. I wanted to know her, not spill my secrets to her right here and now. I shake my head, glancing away because I can’t bring myself to admit what I want. I brought her here in the hopes that she’ll be able to accept me in real life, not just online, but something tells me that’s not going to happen.

  “You can’t want to know parts of me and not give me parts of you,” she speaks, drawing my attention back to her. She’s right. I know that. But I can’t do this now. Pushing off the chair, I head for the door. I need to get out of this room that smells like her. Like promises and vows, I can never offer her.

  I thought I could do this. I figured I could be the man who can offer her a forever, but I know I can’t. She needs the prince, not a broken one, but someone who’s good, who has light in his life. Mine is drenched in darkness.

  Before I close the door, she calls out to me. “You can’t hide forever, Logan.” Her words pierce me right in the chest, lancing my heart, searing my veins. But I don’t respond. Instead, I just close the door, locking it before I make my way downstairs.

  When I reach the kitchen, I grab a mug and fill it with black coffee, then I make my way outside. Settling on the bench, I sip the hot liquid while staring out at the trees. There’s not much close by, and the silence is welcome. I hear banging from upstairs, and I know it’s Vera once again trying to get my attention, but I need to be away from her for a while.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve been around anyone for this amount of time, and having her so close, knowing she’s right there, is messing with my head. I’m so used to solitude that her voice breaks through the silence, reminding me of all I’ve done wrong.

  Perhaps that’s why I came up here. Hiding away from the guilt that seemed to follow me all those years ago. I didn’t think it would bother me as much as it is. When I told Dax I’d take Vera, I thought it would be easy. Keep her here for a few weeks until my father is taken in, and then send her back home to Pine Lake.

  But the more time I got to know her online, the more I read her messages, I know I can never let her go. She’s too young for me, too innocent. I doubt she’s even experienced half the things she fantasizes about; whereas, I’ve done far worse.

  I sit back and think about her words once more. Pulling out my cell phone, I log into the website and pull up her profile. It’s still there, taunting me. I open the inbox and slowly read through each and every response she offered.

  Her words soothe, but they also burn. They remind me that I’m so fucking broken, and I close my eyes for a moment, willing my body to stop reacting to her. I’ve never had a woman who could satisfy me. I can’t even fathom why, or what happened to me to make me so . . . depraved.

  Perhaps I’m cursed. A prince cursed by a witch to forever live in darkness. And my princess is locked in a room where I can have her any time I want. But I would never force myself on her; she would need to ask me for it. And I know I’ll gladly offer it up. I could make her ultimate fantasies a reality, and I think that’s what scares her the most.

  Because I know it scares the shit out of me too.

  13

  Vera

  I’m lost in the book Logan left earlier when the door slides open, and he walks in with another tray. It’s late. The sky is completely black, and I can’t see much out the window.

  “I’ve made something for dinner.” He doesn’t look at me as he sets it down, but he doesn’t leave after he’s done it either. Silence fills the space between us, which only frustrates me. I want him to talk to me. I need something. Living in this quiet is getting to me.

  Pushing off the bed, I make my way toward him, stopping when I’m inches from him. The warmth of his body radiates through me, and my skin prickles with awareness. I think back to the moment I opened my eyes and saw him watching over me. His hand against the material of his crotch.

  “Did you like it?” I mumble, looking up at him.

  He avoids my gaze, but asks, “What?”

  I take another step closer, which earns me a deep growl from the man who’s now shut his eyes. Glasses still frame his perfect lashes as they flutter against his cheeks. Dark, just like his hair, they’re fighting to stay down, and I ache to feel his gaze on me.

  “Did you like seeing me asleep? Not moving, open for you. A lifeless doll for you to use as you please.” I’m poking the bear, arousing him to the point of his hands fisting at his sides. But he doesn’t dare open his eyes.

  “Vera.” His voice is a warning. My name rumbled over his tongue like an elicit vow he’s telling himself.

  “Did you think about what you could do to me?” My tone cracks, desire lacing my words. If I can’t reason with him, then provoking him is my other option. “Did you imagine opening my legs and touching me there while I was asleep?”

  I’ve barely gotten the words out when he opens his eyes and grips my neck in one large hand. The roughness of his skin sends goosebumps skittering over my flesh. His eyes are wide, burning into me, searing me with a mere glare.

  “If you keep that up, I’ll hurt you.”

  “Will you?” I choke out, testing him when I should be meek and submissive. But that’s not who I am. He can see it. There’s a fire inside me, a need only he can satiate. His fingers tighten; he’s squeezing the breath from me. My body is merely a toy, a rag doll, at his mercy.

  Spots appear in my vision as my lungs struggle for air. But Logan doesn’t listen, doesn’t release me. He smiles, a dark, promising grin that causes me to shiver violently. I’ve read about breath play, so many times, imagining it, fantasizing about it, but actually having it done is very different.

  “Are you wet for me?” he grits out, his teeth clenched as he stares at me. I can’t nod. My head is lolling to the side. “Does this make you ache for my cock inside you?” Once again, I can’t respond, so I merely watch him through my hooded gaze. My lashes are fluttering, and a lightheaded feeling is slowly taking over.

  I’m about to allow it to steal me when Logan releases me, and I stumble backward into the wall. My hands shoot out to grip something, but instead, I slip to my ass, the plush throw rug softening the blow.

  I can’t believe that just happened. But most of all, I can’t believe I really am wet. My panties are soaked, and the pulse between my thighs is thrumming.

  “Don’t mistake me feeding you, being nice to you, as me being a good man,” he tells me, not helping me to my feet. My gaze darts around the room, but it’s only when Logan steps closer to me that my eyes land on his crotch. The thickness of him pressing against the zipper of his jeans.

  My body shivers at the thought of him pushing that inside me. He doesn’t move closer, but he doesn’t move away either. The power exchange in the room hangs heavily over us. He’s the strong alpha male, and I’m the soft, gentle figurine here for him to play with.

  “You’re . . .” I don’t know what to say. My words taper off into nothing. The silence that follows stretches out, almost as if it’s a cat elongating and yawning.

  “I’m . . .?” he asks.

  “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “No, that’s not what you can’t believe,” he tells me, crouching, so we’re eye to eye. “What you can’t believe is that you’re wet, needy.” He smirks. “You can’t believe your pretty pussy is pulsing, aching to be filled.”

  I try to shake my head, but it’s pointless because he’s right.

  “Tell me, Vera,” he says, his voice tight, and his body taut with . . . something. Need? I don’t know,
but he wants to hear me admit it. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I wish I could be honest, say what I feel, what I need, but actually saying the words out loud will make it real.

  “Leave me alone,” I mumble, my throat still burning from the tightness of how he held me. I wonder if I’m bruised. Logan watches me for a long while before he nods and rises. I watch him turn and stride away. He can read me, it’s clear. Apparently, to Logan Oakridge, I’m an open book, and all he wants to do is turn the pages until there are no more secrets between us.

  But I need to hold onto mine for a moment longer. The door shuts, and I sit there in silence, thinking about what just happened. I want him. It’s clear my body responds to him in ways I never expected. And now he knows it too.

  I glance up, remembering he brought me dinner. I scoot over to the tray and find a glass of orange soda, along with a plate of pot pie and now-cold fries. Beside it is a bowl; inside, I see a double chocolate cupcake. A small smile tilts my lips, but I catch myself from enjoying the moment.

  I settle on the stool, eating slowly, thinking about Logan, and how my mind is awash with images of him doing things to me. I grab a book and flip it open, reading while I eat. Focusing my attention on the words as I savor the peppery flavor of the meat and vegetables on my plate.

  Once dinner is finished, I grab the bowl and head to bed. The orange drink I sit on the nightstand as I settle back against the headboard and read a tale of how Sleeping Beauty fell in love with the prince.

  The chocolatey goodness of the dessert makes me moan in pleasure. I’ve always had a weakness for chocolate, and this is one of the most delicious cakes I’ve tasted. Once it’s finished, I set the bowl on the nightstand and scoot lower under the covers. A chill has come over, and the room isn’t as warm as it was when the sun was shining through the windows.