by S. M. Shade
His expression is serious as his gaze locks with mine. “I don’t do anything I don’t want to do, Ayda.”
Christ, I know what I want to do, but I doubt it’s what he has in mind. “Okay.”
“Now.” He unpacks the bag and places two large containers on the counter. “I’ve got spaghetti and chicken alfredo. Plus, some garlic bread.”
“It smells fantastic.” I grab two plates and some silverware. “There are water bottles in the fridge, or soda if you’d rather have that.”
“Water’s fine.” It’s funny how fast we fall into sync and my nerves calm down. We’ve spent hours talking through the walls, and this feels no different. We take our food to the living room to eat in front of the T.V.
“Put a movie on if you want,” I tell him, running to answer the door again and dole out more candy.
When I return, he’s chosen the vampire movie I rented. “Why are women so into necrophilia?” he teases.
“What?” I ask, sure I heard him wrong.
“Why do women want to fuck dead dudes?”
“Hey, these vamps don’t twinkle or fall in love. And I don’t want to fuck them.”
“Good to know.” He takes our dishes to the kitchen while I deal with another group of trick-or-treaters.
This time I open the door to a group of teenagers too old to be trick or treating. The two girls are dressed as what I assume are strippers, although one wears a headband with cat ears attached. The boys haven’t bothered with a costume, though they’ve splashed some fake blood on themselves and one has a bunch of latex hanging off of his face.
“Trick or treat,” one of the girls says, and I dutifully add candy to their bulging grocery bags.
“Thank you,” the same girl says, before they turn to leave.
As I’m shutting the door, I hear one of the boys laugh. “Damn, did you see her face? It was scarier than your mask.”
They all laugh, and another boy replies, “Yeah, but there’s no peeling that shit off.”
People talk shit, and teenagers more than most, so I try to shake it off. I’m used to remarks like that, and being laughed at, but I really didn’t need it tonight. Hanging out with Dare hasn’t been as awkward as I’d feared, and I’d kind of forgotten to be worried about how I look. Now, I feel self-conscious about facing him again, but there’s no hope for it. I’m sure he’s realized by now I’m not going to try to get with him or anything, so I’m hopeful we can continue the friendship.
We’ve run out of candy, and I hang a note on the door so no one else will knock, and reluctantly return to the living room.
Dare stands in my living room and I’m struck again by how gorgeous he is. The muscles in his back bulge and flex as he removes his tie and rolls up his sleeves. I’m frozen in place, watching him when he turns and a smirk lifts his lips. “You’re checking me out.”
My face instantly heats and I roll my eyes. “No, I’m not. I’m just wondering why you’re wearing a suit.”
The mirth leaves his eyes. “I had to go to a funeral today. A friend of mine died of a heart attack.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Jed and I weren’t really close, but I had to go pay my respects.” He looks at me. “My friend Justus was close to him though, so we all went out to drink in his memory last night. I don’t usually get trashed like that.”
“I’m surprised you remember last night,” I tease.
“Oh, I remember.” Finally, we settle down to watch the movie.
Chapter Four
Dare
All I want to do is strip Ayda naked and fuck her until she can’t remember anything except my name, but I can’t treat her the way I’ve treated other women. She’s different, and I want more from her than I’ve ever wanted from a woman. All I’ve ever been interested in is sex, but something about this woman makes me want more.
I enjoy being with her like this, sprawled on the couch watching horror flicks and eating leftover Halloween candy. She seemed nervous when I first arrived, but it didn’t take her long to warm up to me again. Well, somewhat.
We’re sitting on her couch, but she’s careful to keep her distance, as if she doesn’t want to touch me. Only the expression on her face betrays what she really feels. I pretend not to notice her furtive glances, but I’m not keeping up the charade much longer.
When the movie ends, she heads to the kitchen, calling back over her shoulder. “Would you like something to drink?”
I know what I’d like and it’s time to claim it. Her back is to me as she peruses the fridge and she gasps when she steps backward right into my chest. I wrap my arm around her waist, my hand splaying across her flat stomach, and pull her against me.
“What are you doing?” Her voice is faint, like maybe she doesn’t really want an answer to that question.
“Touching you,” I reply, my lips against her ear. Her shiver makes me smile. “I couldn’t resist anymore.”
She relaxes in my arms, breathing a small sigh as I run my lips down the smooth skin of her neck. Her hands land on my chest when I spin her to face me, but she keeps her head down. “Look at me, beautiful.”
She flinches at the word beautiful, and I feel her stiffen, but she reluctantly meets my gaze. I can feel her trying to withdraw, trying to take control, but it isn’t going to happen. Grabbing her hips and backing her against the kitchen counter, I catch her soft lips with mine.
A woman told me once that a first kiss should be soft, polite even, but I’m not polite, and my need for her takes over. Her lips part under mine, and I take complete advantage of the opportunity, plunging my tongue inside to taste her soft mouth. Her hand jumps to my hair, gripping it as she tilts her head and kisses me harder, a small groan rumbling her throat.
The sound goes straight to my cock, making it strain against my zipper. Though I’ve gotten a taste of her smart ass attitude through the wall, in person she comes off as shy and timid, but not one ounce of that is who she truly is. That’s clear in the way she tugs my hair, her hand squeezing my ass while we basically maul each other in her kitchen.
Another moan leaves her lips when she presses against me, my thigh rubbing between her legs. I can feel her heat through the thin shorts she wears, and it’s driving me out of my mind. Spinning her around, so her back is to me again, I slide my hand under her shirt onto the warm skin of her stomach. “Dare,” she breathes, when my fingers travel under the waistband of her shorts and panties.
“I’m going to make you come now, Ayda.”
My fingers slide lower and I can feel the effect my words have on her. She likes the dirty talk. “Put your hands around my neck, baby, and keep them there.”
She complies without hesitation, and the arch in her back pushes her tits out. I cup her breast with one hand and run my thumb over her nipple, loving how it stiffens when I roll it between my fingers. Her head lies back against my chest, and her arms are clamped tightly around my neck as I slide a thick finger inside her.
I swear the sound she makes when I finger her will haunt me forever. She twists in my arms, growing wetter by the second. When I bend my finger and find just the right spot inside her, she gasps and lets go of my neck, reaching for the edge of the counter. “Get those arms back up,” I growl, pinching her nipple, and she quickly obeys, fisting a handful of my hair. Christ, submissive and wild. This woman will be the death of me.
She squirms, trying to stay on her feet while the sensations grow stronger, my thumb on her clit bringing her right to the edge. “That’s right, baby. Come for me,” I murmur into her ear when I feel her start to contract around my finger. A second later, she’s coming on my hand, her soft cry filling the room. It’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
Her hands fall to the counter as she catches her breath, and I kiss up the side of her neck. As soon as my lips approach her scarred skin, she steps away, cursing. I wonder if her scar is the reason she wouldn’t agree to meet me all this time. “It’s okay,” I murmur
.
“You should go,” she says, putting even more distance between us. “I didn’t mean to lead you on or make you think we were going to fuck.”
She won’t look at me, but she doesn’t jerk away when I cup her face. “We’re going to do so much more than fuck, darlin’.”
A loud pounding echoes through the room and she jumps, backing away from me. “Dare, damn it! Open up,” Justus yells. Christ, he’s going to knock my door down banging on it like that, loud enough to be heard from Ayda’s place. What the hell is going on now?
“Give me a minute,” I tell Ayda, trying not to be pissed at Justus for breaking the moment. I’m sure this has to do with Jed.
She doesn’t answer, but follows me to the door. Justus is leaning against my door when I step outside. “There you are!” He waves his hand in my direction. “I can’t stay there, man. We have to get someone else. I feel like he’s fucking haunting me.”
Shit. I toss him my keys. “Go on in. I’ll be there in a second.”
Without waiting for a response, I turn to face Ayda. “That’s Justus. He’s having a hard time with Jed’s death.”
Relief washes over her features. “Go take care of your friend.”
My fingers brush her hair back from her eyes. “Are you okay?”
A fake smile jumps across her face. “I’m fine. Really, go see what’s wrong with him.”
Torn, I hesitate for a moment before nodding. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Sure.” It’s clear she can’t wait for me to leave, and as much as I want to stay and smooth things over, I have to see what’s up with Justus. He’s not the most stable guy when he isn’t upset.
I plant one more kiss on her soft lips before she closes the door behind me.
Justus is standing at my kitchen counter, pouring a shot of whiskey from the bottle I always keep in the cabinet. “Dude, you finally nailing the neighbor girl instead of eavesdropping on her?”
“No.” I grab the bottle from his hand and take a drink. Something tells me I’m going to need it. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”
He sighs, and shuffles his feet, his ears glowing red as he stares at the counter. “I know I said I’d stay at the farm, but I can’t. It’s fucking creepy. Seriously, you wouldn’t believe the noises I heard. I think the bastard is haunting the place.”
Trying not to smile, I ask, “Have you ever spent the night in the country?”
“I’ve spent a few nights in that house with Jed.” He slides the shot glass toward me, and I refill it. “It doesn’t matter. It won’t work in the long run anyway. Over an hour and a half commute to work and to ISH? We have to find someone else.”
I have someone in mind to take Jed’s place, but it’s risky. We’ll have to let another person in on the secret of what we do, and, really, how many people are going to be okay not only with us killing an abuser, but also with living on the property where we dispose of the remains?
“I have someone in mind,” I reveal.
Justus looks up with a mixture of relief and curiosity. “Yeah? Who?”
My mind wanders back to my last conversation with Tucker. After I brought him the burger the first time, I made a habit of grabbing him something whenever I stopped for dinner. We usually sit and eat on the curb, and last time was no exception.
“Don’t you get disability or a pension or something from the military?” I asked him.
“Not when you’re dishonorably discharged and court martialed.”
Silence descended for a few moments before I volunteered, “I’ve done time, too. State prison.”
“Yeah? How long?”
“Three years.”
“Four,” he said, tossing a burnt French fry aside.
“You win.”
He frowns, staring in the distance. “Pretty sure we both lost.”
“It’s taking me a while to bounce back.”
“What were you in for?”
“Aggravated assault. I beat my sister’s abuser half to death. Put the fucker in a wheelchair.”
He looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time. “No shit? Your sister okay?”
“She’s doing good. Going to college.”
“Worth it then,” he mumbled.
“I wouldn’t do it differently if I had the chance.”
We chewed in silence, ignoring the curious glances from the neighbors making their way to their doors. I was a second away from asking him what got him locked up, when he balled up his hamburger wrapper. “Involuntary manslaughter.”
Damn. “Here or when you were deployed?”
“Afghanistan. I shot a man in my unit. He was raping a young Afghani girl.”
“And they locked you up for that?” Shit, wasn’t there a law in place if you were defending someone else?
He scoffed and got to his feet. “Yeah, I shot one of our own over what they considered a NHI attack.”
“NHI?”
“No humans involved.”
“That’s fucked up.”
Shaking his head, he laughed bitterly. “Everything is fucked up.”
Justus is staring at me and I realize I never answered his question. “Let me talk to him first.”
* * * *
Tucker agrees to come inside for a beer when I find him leaning against the fence surrounding the now empty pool. Justus decided to head to Landon’s, where we recently moved ISH headquarters, so we have the place to ourselves.
He looks uncomfortable sitting on the edge of my couch, so I get right to the point. “I have a proposition for you, if you’re interested. A job and a place to stay.”
His gaze is wary, but he says, “I’m listening.”
“Let me ask you a question first. The man you killed for raping a woman. If you had the chance to go back, would you do it again?”
“Yes,” he replies instantly. “There’s right and there’s wrong, but the government doesn’t always see it that way.”
“I agree. I work with a group who track down pedophiles and online predators. Most of the time, we report them to the cops—anonymously—but occasionally we find an asshole who keeps beating the system. I’m talking about the fucking scum of the earth. Men who abuse and sexually molest children, sometimes buy and sell them into sexual slavery. Those don’t get reported. We make them disappear.”
He scowls. “And you think because I’ve killed before, I might want to be what…a hit man for you?”
“No. No killing. We own a property outside the city, about an hour and a half away. It’s a farmhouse with a couple hundred acres, most of it woods. Our friend who was taking care of the place just died, and we need someone who’s willing to live there, keep the place up.”
“What’s the catch?”
“There’s risk involved, I’m not going to lie. We dispose of the bodies there, and if it’s ever discovered, you’d be an accessory at the least.”
His hands run through his overlong oily hair. “You bury them there?”
“Not exactly. Bodies are too easy to dig up. We want to leave the least amount of evidence behind as possible. If you decide to live there, you’ll need to take care of a few pigs. Feed them, clean up shit, etc.” I wave my hand. “We’ll pay all the bills, plus hook you up with cash every month.”
Tucker’s eyes meet mine. “I’d need a car.”
“There’s a truck on the property. You’re welcome to it. Look, why don’t we drive out there tomorrow so you can see if you’re interested?”
He thinks about it for a long second before nodding. “I can do that.”
“Great, you can crash on the couch here tonight if you want.”
Getting to his feet, he shakes his head. “No thanks. Just come grab me when you want to go.”
He lets himself out, and I breathe a sigh of relief. That could’ve gone either way. He could’ve been horrified and called the cops, but since he’s stepped outside the law himself to right a wrong, I figured he was a safe bet. Now I just have to convinc
e him to join us.
What a fucking day. A funeral, and an evening with Ayda. An end and a new beginning. Hopefully.
Chapter Five
Ayda
My weak legs barely carry me to the couch before they give out and I flop onto the cushion, my brain spinning as I struggle to figure out what the hell just happened. My gaze travels to the kitchen where Dare had his hand down my shorts, and my cheeks heat. Christ, the man is a walking wet dream and I made out with him. Who am I kidding? I’m pretty sure when you come all over a guy’s hand, you’ve gone beyond making out.
I never dreamed he’d actually try anything with me, and I didn’t mean to let it happen, but from the second he wrapped those strong arms around me, I never had a chance of resisting. His hands are so big, his touch rough and mind blowing. I’ve never had anyone just grab me like that and I came as much from his commanding attitude as I did from his fingers inside me.
For a few moments, I forgot everything, my world narrowing to the sensation of his warm, hard body wrapped around mine. The man could make me forget my own name. And he only touched me. What would sex with him be like? A thrill courses through me at the thought of him completely naked, his skin slick with sweat, muscles flexing as he takes me hard and fast.
For the past few years, it was like someone threw a switch and turned off my sex drive. Other than an occasional stress relief session with my vibrator, I didn’t even think about it. Five minutes with Dare and I feel like a wanton slut, ready to beg for it.
