Eve of Darkness

by S. J. Day

  “You were drawn to him because of me, weren’t you?” His lips hovered above hers so that their panting breaths mingled and became one. It was as intimate as sex, that sharing of breaths between them.

  She didn’t have to answer. He knew. He always knew.

  His thumb brushed across her cheekbone. He moved to kiss her, but Eve jerked her head away.

  “Damn you,” she breathed, her nails digging into his skin.

  “We’re both damned.” He pulled her into his lap and tucked her flushed face into the crook of his neck, where the scent of his skin was so strong.

  Against her will, she nuzzled him, rubbing her sweat into his flesh. She felt the urge to crawl inside him, to see what made him tick. Her tongue darted out and tasted him. He shuddered in response, squeezing her tighter. Her wound was on the arm facing away from him and she felt his fingertips move, feather light, over her bandage.

  Her voice came as no more than a whisper. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “You’re right, angel. You haven’t.” His lips pressed hard to her damp forehead.

  “Then why?”

  He exhaled harshly. “Because of me. Because I couldn’t resist you.”

  Eve opened her mouth to reply, but weariness pulled hard at her and she sank into darkness.

  CHAPTER 5

  The deep rumbling growl of a Harley drew Eve’s gaze to the parking lot of the ice-cream shop where she worked after school. It was five in the evening and the day was just starting to end. The horizon was the color of a tangerine tinged with burgundy.

  She walked to the end of the counter to catch a glimpse of the Heritage Softail that lounged in front of the Circle K convenience store next door. It was a black and chrome beauty, boasting custom saddlebags and a well-worn seat.

  “What I wouldn’t give for a bike like that,” she whispered, “and the freedom of the road.”

  Not that she was unhappy with her life, because she wasn’t. It was just . . . ordinary.

  Sighing, she looked over her shoulder at the clock and silently begged it to tick a little faster. Her shift was over at six. The final football game of the season started at seven fifteen. While her high school was across the street, the field they played on was a few miles away.

  “Hey. Are we going to Chad’s party after the game?”

  Eve glanced at her friend Janice and shrugged. “I’m not sure. Depends if Robert’s going or not.”

  Shaking her head, Janice went back to work wiping off the counters, her long, blonde ponytail swaying with her exertions. “You can’t avoid him forever.”

  “I know. And I know he’ll stop talking shit about me when he hooks up with someone else, but in the meantime, I just want to stay out of his way.”

  Crouching down, Eve opened the doors beneath the display case. She pulled out the glass cleaner and a roll of paper towels.

  “He’s an asshole,” Janice muttered. “I’m glad you didn’t screw him.”

  “Yeah.” Eve stood. “Me, too.”

  She tossed one last longing glance at the Harley and froze. The owner was shoving a paper bag into one of the saddlebags. Then he tossed one leg over the bike and settled into the seat.

  Wow.

  He was tall, dark, and dangerous. His long legs and fine ass were draped in loose, low-slung blue jeans, his powerful biceps bared by the fitted white tank top he wore. His jaw was square and bold, his lips firm but sensual. Wicked. The lines that bracketed them only emphasized how gorgeous he was.

  Completely unaware of her fascination, he turned the key and revved the engine, his black leather boots resting firmly on the asphalt, ready to push the bike back. The anticipation of his departure made her shiver.

  Then he turned his head and saw her.

  Eve knew the exact moment he became aware of her stare because he stilled, his large frame visibly tensing. The hand on his thigh reached for his sunglasses so he could push them up. As they lifted, they caught the overly long lock of glossy black hair that fell over his brow and took it with them.

  Their eyes met. Electricity arced through the space between them. She shivered. The bottle of glass cleaner fell from her nerveless fingers and thudded on the linoleum floor.

  “Wow . . .” Janice’s voice breathed the awe Eve felt. “He’s got to be famous.”

  Eve didn’t break eye contact. She couldn’t. “Why?”

  “No normal guy is that fucking hot.” Janice blew out her breath. “Hey!”

  Fingers snapped in front of Eve’s face.

  “Huh?”

  “Stop staring at him. You’re going to give him ideas.”

  “Maybe I want him to have ideas.”

  Janice yanked her around and glared at her with narrowed green eyes. “Evie, no. First off, that guy is way out of your league. Second, he’s too old for you. Third, everything about him screams bad news.”

  The rumble outside stopped and Eve looked back over her shoulder. He stood beside the bike—watching her.

  “Listen, Eve. You have the worst luck with guys, worse than me, and that’s saying something. But this guy—hunky as he is—is serious trouble. Look at him. Men that look like that . . .” Janice snorted. “I see him, and I see teen pregnancy and welfare.”

  That’s not what Eve saw when she looked at him. She didn’t know what it was, but something inside her was so drawn to him that she felt an invisible string pulling her, urging her to close the distance between them.

  Hi, she mouthed, trying to smile, but failing. There was nothing to smile about.

  His jaw tensed, his hand fisting at his side. His dark gaze was hot. Burning. No man had ever looked at her with that level of intensity. As if nothing in the world existed but her.

  Biting her lower lip, she willed him to come closer. Talk to me. Come on.

  She saw the nearly imperceptible shake of his head. He yanked his shades back down, shielding his eyes. He ignored her as he remounted his bike and restarted the engine. But she knew he still felt her stare.

  He rode away without another glance in her direction.

  The feeling of inexplicable loss stayed with Eve for days after he left.

  A wet cloth swiping over Eve’s skin brought her to a distant awareness. The whirring ceiling fan blew air across the lingering dampness, cooling her fevered skin. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth and her hand lifted to her parched throat. As her forearm crossed her chest, she realized she was naked and groaned, hating the feeling of helplessness.

  “Here.” A thickly muscled arm slipped beneath her shoulders and raised her to meet the edge of a drinking glass. Her lips parted gratefully and ice water filled her empty stomach, causing her to shiver. Burning hot outside, freezing cold inside.

  Inhaling a spicy exotic scent that was unmistakable, she croaked, “Alec?”

  “In the flesh.” He mantled her body, his hip pressed to hers as he sat on the edge of the bed.

  “I-I don’t want you to see me . . . l-like this. Go away.”

  Pressing a kiss to her brow, Alec followed her down to the pillow. Silken strands of his hair stroked over her hypersensitive skin. Pleasure flowed through her. Familiar pleasure. Longed-for pleasure. Contradicting her order to leave, her hand lifted to his thick hair. Her fingers slid deep into the glossy locks, her palm cupping the back of his head to keep him close.

  “I feel like shit,” she muttered.

  “I know. I’m sorry, angel. Women always take the Change hardest.”

  “What . . . what change?”

  “Hush,” he soothed, wiping her forehead with the wet washcloth. “Sleep now. I’ll take care of you.”

  Her nipples throbbed as if pinched by clamps, the ache boring deep. Her hands moved to them, covering the puckered tips with her palms. A large, warm hand surrounded hers, then pulled them away. At eighteen, she hadn’t been this curvy, less than a handful. She was much fuller now, a fact he seemed to appreciate if the rhythmic kneading of his hand on her breast was any indication. She whimpe
red, finding relief in the pressure of his touch.

  Her fingers drifted along the length of his side, feeling hot, smooth skin stretched tight over lean, hard muscles. The image of Alec bare-chested flashed behind her closed eyelids, followed by heated remembrances of the last time he’d handled her so intimately.

  Sick as she was, her body still hungered for him. How the hell could she be horny at a time like this? “Alec . . . What’s happening to me?”

  “You’re becoming like me.”

  “Oh god.” As the burn on her arm heated painfully, she whimpered. “Shoot me now.”

  “Just a few more days, angel. You’re strong. You’ll be even stronger when you get through this.”

  “Few days? How long have I—?”

  “Three days.”

  Three days?

  And he was still here.

  She fought to stay awake, but she lost the battle and drifted off.

  As soon as Eve exited the ice-cream shop to the back alley, she knew he was there. She closed her eyes and sighed, then straightened her shoulders and locked the door.

  “What do you want, Robert?” she asked wearily, loose bits of old asphalt crunching beneath her Vans. “I’ve had a long day and I really want to go home.”

  Her ex leaned against the hood of his white ’67 Mustang, arms and legs crossed. He was arguably the most popular guy at Loara High and it was obvious why. A California blond with blue eyes, he had a great body from both surfing at dawn at Huntington Beach and afternoon football practice. But his looks hadn’t been enough to tempt to her out of her virginity.

  At eighteen, she was the oldest girl she knew who still hadn’t had sex. Sometimes the peer pressure was fierce, but mostly she was fine with waiting for more than a quick, painful screw in the back of some guy’s car.

  “I thought you might want a ride to Jason’s party,” he said with a half-smile.

  Eve shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m not up for it tonight.”

  Her uniform of bright red shorts and a white polo shirt with “Henry’s Ice Cream” embroidered on the breast was irritating her. She wanted nothing more than to toss it in the hamper and watch the latest episode of 90210 in a pair of baggy sweats.

  “I’ve got a cooler in the car and a dime bag,” he coaxed. “We can skip the party and drive out to the tracks.”

  “Give it a rest.” She started walking. “I’m not doing it, okay? You broke up with me and told everyone I’m a bad lay. Everyone thinks I put out. We’re done.”

  Leaping to his feet, Robert stepped into her path. “Come on, Evie. I know you’re scared, but I’ll make it good for you. Other people are starting to talk about how cold you are. Your rep as a hottie is slipping, baby.”

  “Whatever. Like I care.”

  His voice lowered and became cajoling. He gripped her upper arms, and rubbed up and down. “A couple beers and a joint, and you’ll be nice and relaxed when I pop your cherry. You don’t want to be a damn virgin forever.”

  She opened her mouth to take him down a notch.

  “Who said she’s still a virgin?”

  Eve quivered at the sound of the deep rumbling voice. She knew it was him. Hell on wheels.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Robert challenged, pushing Eve to the side.

  The sudden illumination of the Harley’s headlight gave away his position. “You ready to go, angel?”

  The nickname startled her and she hesitated. Then one foot stepped in front of the other. The next thing Eve knew, a helmet was in her hands. She pulled it on quickly, her body instantly reacting to the exotic male scent that permeated the inside of the protective gear. Her nipples peaked hard and tight, her breathing altered.

  She wanted him. Like she’d never wanted anything or anybody in her life. All the raging teenage hormones in her body went haywire around him. She’d had heavy petting sessions that hadn’t made her this hot, and all she’d done was smell him.

  “This is bullshit, Eve,” Robert snapped. “We dated for months. You owe me.”

  Eve flipped him the bird and climbed onto the back of the bike, her arms wrapping around her mystery guy’s lean middle. He smelled spicy. Exotic. Delicious. She pressed her nose to his back and breathed him in. Unable to fight the temptation, she stroked her fingertips over his six-pack abs, shivering when tingles spread up her arms and pooled in her breasts, making them swell and ache.

  His hand slapped over hers, halting her explorations.

  “Hang on,” he growled.

  The hog rumbled to life and they roared off into the night.

  Eve jerked to consciousness.

  Desire burned through her veins. She writhed in torment, her head tossing, her limbs flailing, her breasts swollen with the need to be touched and caressed.

  The scent of lavender and vanilla filled her nostrils. Reality hit her hard enough to force the breath from her lungs.

  Her fabric softener. She turned her head and breathed in the smell. Clean sheets.

  She was home. Alone. It had all been a dream.

  “Alec . . . ?” She thrashed, her skin so hot and tight she felt as if it might split open.

  Her nipples were hard and aching again, but now the flesh between her legs was plump and slick, the brand on her arm burning. Throbbing.

  “Alec!” she cried again, with all the strength of a mewling kitten. Her mouth felt as if it were filled with cotton. Her body quaked with hunger and unable to do otherwise, she spread her legs wide and thrust her hand into the damp curls between her thighs. She’d never been so aroused in her life; the need for sex was more powerful than her need to breathe. Her other hand cupped a swollen breast, squeezing it, praying for relief from her sensual anguish and the goddamn heat. She felt like she was melting from the inside out.

  Through her panting breaths she heard the padding of bare feet upon her hardwood floors. The steady, confident stride was familiar and deeply comforting.

  Closer. Closer.

  The footsteps stopped abruptly in her bedroom doorway.

  “Alec.” Her fingers parted the tender folds of her sex, exposing her burning flesh to the fan’s soft breeze.

  “Christ,” he whispered, his voice a deep lustful rasp. “Have mercy.”

  She moved sinuously upon the cool satin sheets of her bed. Were they purple? Or would he be sentimental and choose the white? Much as she wanted to open her eyes and see, she couldn’t find the strength to lift her heavy lids.

  “Alec.” She pushed two fingers inside her, but it wasn’t enough to fill the emptiness. She was soaked, desperate. “What’s happening to me?”

  Her words left her on a sob, hot tears leaking out from the corners of her closed eyes. Her body was no longer her own; the sexual hunger was an alien force, clawing and biting her in its quest for freedom.

  Alec. It wanted Alec. And after a decade of starving, it wasn’t willing to wait a moment longer to have him.

  His breath hissed out between clenched teeth. She heard him step toward her, then the bed dipped slightly as he sat. His hot, open mouth pressed against her calf. “I knew what the Change would do to you.”

  As his tongue dipped behind her knee, her free hand left her breast and slid into his hair.

  His teeth nipped at her inner thigh and she gasped in surprise. “But I didn’t know what it would do to me.”

  Grasping her pumping wrist, he stilled her movements and pulled her hand free. She cried out when she felt his tongue licking her fingers, a rough sound of pure male satisfaction filling the air as he tasted her desire. Warm, wet heat engulfed her to the knuckles, then he was sucking in long deep pulls until there was nothing left to consume.

  “Damn it.” He lunged for the pulsing flesh between her legs, covering it with his open mouth. Eve jerked violently, her senses overloaded with the feel and smell of him. Her heart raced at his nearness and the growling sounds he made as his tongue flicked desperately. Her knees bent and her feet pushed into the mattress, lifting her hips. He rumbled a warning and
pinned her down with his large hands. “Stay still.”

  He held her open with his fingers, nuzzling his lips against her, his hair sweeping across the sensitive skin of her thighs.

  She struggled against his hold, but he was too strong and she was too weak. “Please . . .”

  Alec tilted his head and pushed his tongue through the spasming muscles, the rough texture both soothing and abrading the sensitive tissues. She keened softly at the teasing fullness, nowhere near as thick and long as she needed, but wonderful nevertheless. In and out. Piercing her hard and fast. His groans were animalistic, base and raw, as if he’d gone too long without having her this way. As if he’d missed it.

  “Not enough,” she breathed, twisting and arching, burning up. Losing her sanity. “It’s not enough.”

  Alec’s mouth surrounded her, gently suckling. His tongue fluttered in a wicked back-and-forth tease.

  As she climaxed hard, she cried out, her legs trembling. The relief was so intense she couldn’t catch her breath, every follicle and nerve ending prickling with acute, near-painful pleasure. His lips closed, pressed a soft kiss against her, and then opened again. His approach gentled, and he licked her in a patient, loving rhythm.

  Eve reached for his shoulders and found his warm skin covered in soft cotton. She tugged ineffectually at the material. “Naked.”

  Alec pushed up and the mattress jerked with his violent movements, then he was coming over her. Bare skin to bare skin. He caught her wrists in one hand and pulled them gently over her head.

  She found the strength to open her gritty eyes. Dark hair fell around his flushed face. His brown irises were swallowed by his dilated pupils, roiling with violent need.

  He pressed his cheek to hers. “Don’t hate me for what’s happening to you.”

  Kneeing her legs open, he pushed inside her. A violent shudder coursed the length of his frame. “Angel . . . You’re burning me up.”

  He was so long and hard, built for a woman’s plea sure. She knew he would fill her completely, the stretching sensation incredible and addicting.

  “Deeper,” she coaxed, raising her hips.