by Nikki Landis
He shakes his head. “No.”
“Kind of funny you’re here then, isn’t it?” I’m openly flirting. Does he notice?
“You could say that.” His hands lower to my waist. Oh yeah, he notices.
“Where do you usually dance? Some place I’ve been?” Derek is super-hot so of course I want to know. He’s obviously a close friend of my brother though so I have to be careful. Dev hates when I date his friends.
“No,” he answers, leaning low and close to my face, “If you come to my place, I’ll show you exactly how I like to dance.” His hands yank me against his chest and then slide slowly lower to my hips, almost possessively. “Slow and sensual. All night long.”
Blushing, I take a moment to answer. Damn. I hardly ever blush. Maybe it’s the heat and dancing, and alcohol mixed altogether. Yeah, sure. “I think I should be insulted with you coming on to me so strong.”
He laughs. “But you aren’t. I turn you on, about as much as you turn me on.”
True. So very true. Letting out a breath I don’t realize I’m holding, I continue to swing my hips seductively, just in case he’s wondering if I’m in to all this playful flirtation. Come on, he’s grinding his lower body against mine anyway. Why not have some fun?
“Hey Leigh, what’s up?”
Uh oh. Eddie. My ex. The one person I was hoping not to run into tonight. “Eddie.”
His bright blue eyes scan Derek and his close proximity. “Who the hell are you?”
Derek’s arm slides around me comfortably like he’s done it a hundred times before. “If you were important enough to know I wouldn’t have my arm around Leigh.”
Eddie bristles. “Let go of her.”
Derek pulls me closer. “Get out of here before I kick your stupid ass.”
Eddie looks shocked. He seems to want to say more but I shake my head. “Just go.”
“Leigh, come on.” His hand reaches for mine. “It’s your birthday. Let me help you celebrate.”
“Eddie, we broke up, remember?”
He frowns. “Not permanently. We never agreed to that. Dance with me babe.”
As I walk away from Derek I feel him stiffen. “Eddie, we’re no longer together. You really should go. I’ve moved on and so should you.”
His face betrays a flash of hurt and anger before he turns and stomps away.
“Ex-boyfriend?” Derek’s voice is right behind me. Does he think he has a right to question me?
Irritated, I don’t answer. Why do guys always think a girl can’t take care of herself? I’m not some airheaded damsel in distress and I certainly don’t need a knight in shining armor. It’s simple, what I really want is the villain, and all of the passion that comes along with him.
Life isn’t some stupid romance novel and I crave the danger and excitement only a man like that could bring.
I want my Joker.
Derek says something else but I never hear his words, leaving the dance floor, and heading toward the bar. Leaning over, up on my tiptoes, I wave at the bartender about five feet away and yell to gain his attention above the noise.
A loud smack, followed by radiating pain, startles me. Someone just had the nerve to slap my ass. I spin, livid, ready to confront the jerk who has the audacity to tempt fate, when I see Derek. He looks pissed.
“You don’t walk away from me. Ever.”
When I blush this time it’s in anger as I stare him down. “Who the hell are you to demand anything of me?”
People are staring at us. Picking up the shot suddenly set in front of me, I down it, glaring at him. Then I turn and head for the ladies room, hoping to outrun him. I must be successful because I end up alone after the only other woman inside leaves and I pace the small space, agitated. He’s waiting for me outside. His domineering type is predictable so I know he is.
Pulling out my cell in irritation, I text Ivey. Meet me out front ASAP.
A minute later my phone vibrates. After this song.
K.
You alright?
Yeah, ready to go.
She sends a pair of pink lips back and I smile.
Leaning against the sink as a knock pounds on the door, I already know who it is. “Harleigh?”
He doesn’t deserve an answer.
“Harleigh, answer me or I’m coming in.”
The closest trash can flies into the wall as I kick it in frustration. “Give me enough time to wipe dammit.”
He laughs. “Fine.”
Arrogant jerk. Huffing a sigh of agitation I’m grumpy until I notice the window. After a few seconds of pushing and shoving, the pane slides open, about five feet from the ground.
There’s only one choice as I jump onto the sill and hop immediately down, bouncing slightly and bending my knees as my body lands with little to no impact and I nearly laugh in triumph. By the time he realizes I escaped him, Ivey and I will be long gone.
When I land in a dark alley, I realize it’s not the best idea at two in the morning. Quick to assess this is dangerous, I flee the alley, running to the front of the club.
Whew.
Ivey is swaying near the entrance, grinning like a crazy person, obviously drunk. What’s going on? Derek is standing next to her, scowling. Strong arms surround me and pick me up, hoisting my sorry ass up over a broad set of shoulders.
“You’re going home.” Devon.
“No, I’m not.” My fists pound on his back. “Put me down!”
I’m dumped, literally right on my ass, onto the sidewalk. Furious, I’m prepared to jump up when sudden vertigo hits and I’m forced to lay down as I moan, looking up at the dark sky and spinning stars overhead. For about thirty seconds I try to fight the nausea.
This is going to be bad.
“Here, let me help.” Derek hoists me up and leads us to the side of the building where I promptly vomit up the entire contents of my stomach. I’m horrified when some of the icky mess splashes onto his combat boots but he never says a word.
“Thanks.” My voice is a hoarse whisper once I’m done dry heaving. Wow, classy. I bet he runs for the hills now.
He surprises me when he stays by my side and hands me a tissue and a bottle of water. “Wipe your mouth and swish some water around. Don’t swallow, just spit it out.” There’s a pretty good sex joke right there but I don’t voice it.
After I follow his directions I feel a little better. “Why are you being nice?” I’m still irritated but he’s being helpful so I don’t go all crazy chick on him.
“I thought I was watching over you like your brother asked.” He arches a brow. “I can easily leave, since you seem to want to ditch me.” He’s too amused for me to think he’s becoming annoyed and that ridiculous smile gives away he thinks the situation is funny.
Tossing my hair over my shoulder, I shrug. “Do what you want.”
He grins wider as his eyes linger on my face, then slowly move all the way to my toes and back up again, darkening with desire. “Oh, I will, little Harleigh.”
My entire body shivers in response. That voice of his. Why was I such a sucker for dark and brooding guys? Especially with a deep voice, sense of humor, and highly sexually charged pheromones? Damn, I bet he kisses like a fucking rock star because those lips are full and sexy and way too inviting.
Before he figures out how aroused I’m becoming I need to go home to a cold shower and my empty bed. He makes my temperature rise with longing and need. My fingers twitch, wanting to reach for him. He notices. I don’t think there’s anything he doesn’t notice about me.
Why is that so hot?
And another thing, why does he have the best hair I’ve ever seen on a guy? Long and thick, slightly wavy, and dark brown. The same color of his dark eyes except for those flashes of amber. He’s literally the most attractive man I’ve ever met. Sex. On. A. Stick.
Shit. I’m going to fall for him.
This is bad.
He keeps staring at me, his eyes holding me hostage with one look. At any moment I expe
ct him to move closer but he stands still, a small confident smile, ruggedly handsome and totally seductive, gracing his full lips. As a result I keep glancing at his mouth, wondering what it will feel like when he kisses me. He’s going to kiss me. Soon. We both know it.
“You’re going to love it.”
My eyes fly to his. “What?”
“You’re going to love it when my lips touch you.” He takes a couple of steps closer then makes a slow purposeful circle around me only stopping when he’s standing directly in front of me again.
I barely register that I have backed up against the brick wall. “Excuse me?”
“Every single inch of your body is going to love my lips,” he whispers as he bends closer to my earlobe. His tongue darts out and licks the sensitive spot beneath my ear. “I’m going to lick and suck and taste you everywhere.”
Closing my eyes, I stifle a whimper. Oh my God. How am I so turned on by a few words?
When my eyes finally open, he’s watching me. His hands are leaning against the wall on either side of my shoulders. My breath is quickened with his close proximity. “Derek.” I say his name like a man dying of thirst in the desert. Parched. Dry. Needy.
“You’ll want me even more soon.” One of his hands slides to my waist and grips it tight. “I want to hear you shout my name in pleasure, your climax on my tongue.”
Oh shit. My knees clench tight as I sink an inch lower.
He inhales. Exhales. The rapid rise and fall of his chest betrays his own attraction. He’s fighting strong urges too. “I can smell you. You’re wet for me.” His voice drops another octave. “Fuck.”
“Derek.”
This time when I say his name he closes his eyes. Two of his fingers dip inside the band of my shorts, digging into the flesh next to my hipbone. “I want to lay you down in my bed for hours.” He opens his eyes and the depth of the amber and emotion catch me by surprise. It’s more than desire or lust and I’m thrown off guard. “Come home with me Harleigh.”
My breath whistles lightly as I suck in air through my teeth. What?
Chapter 3
Snapping back to reality I notice how I’m acting like a total slut. Admirable, but still. He’s got to work for it at least a little. “I don’t go home with men I’ve just met.” Not anymore, at least, beside the point, he doesn’t need me to drone on about it.
He tilts his head to the side. “I’m safe enough. Your brother knows me well.”
Blinking at his bold comment, I nearly smirk. “I doubt Devon would be alright with what we’d be doing.”
He tilts his head back and laughs. “Devon took Ivey home fifteen minutes ago.”
“What?” I push away from the wall and turn to the street. No one was in sight.
Ivey and Dev? No way . . .
Derek raises a hand, waving to a cab parked by the median. Once we’re on our way he gives my address and I relax against the seat, relieved. His warm chuckle sounds next to me.
Maybe I was a little too transparent.
Letting us inside my apartment, I close and lock the door behind him. “There’s beer in the fridge or water. I’ll be back in a minute.”
He nods, his eyes watching me as I walk away. I can feel the heat of his weighted stare without turning around to double check. Inside my room, I slowly remove all of my clothes, laying them in my hamper. I yawn and stretch, clad only in my underwear and a tank top, when my door creaks open.
Derek.
His eyes land on my face. In three long strides he’s in front of me. “Harleigh.”
Wide eyed I stare back, uncertain what he’s going to do. He picks me up gently and walks to my bed, lowering my back on the firm mattress. I watch as he sets all of his clothing to the side, stripping down to his boxer shorts and nothing else. My curious gaze lands on his muscular chest and cut abs. When he returns to the bed and pulls me close, I’m trembling.
“Shhh,” he soothes, “I’m not going to do anything but hold you tonight. I swear it.”
Tears fill my eyes and I blink them away as his eyes soften. “Ok.”
I should be freaking out that this guy is in my apartment. He’s a stranger and I know nothing about him. My brother trusts him but that doesn’t mean much. Devon could be a total and complete fucktard and men are stupid as shit sometimes.
Sighing, I’m almost ready to ask him to leave.
Sensing my thoughts he kisses my forehead and lays back, pulling me into his chest. “Goodnight Harleigh.”
Maybe I’m overthinking this. Wouldn’t be the first time. “Goodnight,” I answer quietly.
“You’re safe. Just relax and get some sleep.”
I let my eyes close as I realize my brother would kill him if he did anything to bother or hurt me.
“Happy birthday baby.”
His voice is comforting, almost familiar in a way that doesn’t make sense. It’s almost as if I’ve known him before, like in a past life, because it feels so right to lay with him in my bed. As I fall asleep in the strength of his arms and he holds me close, the consistent beat of his heart thrums beneath my ear, and the warmth of his body heat soothes next to mine.
It’s the safest and most protected I’ve felt in a long time.
Since the mugging.
I love every moment.
SOMEONE IS COOKING in my kitchen. The smell of bacon, eggs, and coffee wafts into my room.
After a quick shower and a change into a long tank top and black leggings that hug my curves in all the right places, I walk into the kitchen.
Derek sits at the table, kicking one chair back, and gestures for me to join him. “Morning. Hungry honey?”
My stomach rumbles as I nod. “Yes, thanks.”
He sets a warm plate in front of me, all of my favorites. Scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese, sausage patties, fresh fruit, and whole grain toast. In front of that he places a glass of orange juice (pulp free) and a cup of coffee, loaded with cream and sugar.
Staring, I’m curious.
“How do I know? I texted Devon this morning.” He smiles, sits back across from me, and returns to reading the paper.
What the hell? How did I fucking get married overnight?
Knocking my chair over, I stand up fast and glance at my front door. For about ten seconds I consider bolting for it, and running away.
“Harleigh, what’s the matter?”
My eyes, wide and panicked, meet his. What is happening here?
Frowning, Derek folds the paper, and stands. “Talk to me, please.”
“What is this?” I blurt, backing away from the table.
He lifts a brow like my question is stupid. “Breakfast. Why?”
“What do you want? Really?” Scanning the room, I look for a quick getaway. My balcony might work. Of course, it’s about five stories up.
I’m going to panic. Shit. I can feel one of those stupid attacks coming on and I’m powerless to stop it. Fuck!
It’s been weeks since I had an episode but I can feel the walls closing in on me.
That old familiar feeling of weakness and inadequacy launches through my bloodstream. The fear returns, so real and frightening that I sink to my knees without realizing it. My ears ring. My vision is dotted with flashes of light and dark spots as I break out into a sweat. I’m no longer standing in my apartment. I’m riding an express train to my fucked up and haunted past.
No!
Right now, at this moment, I don’t feel like the volatile vixen I’ve spent a lifetime perfecting. Instead, I feel like a cornered animal. The knowledge makes me edgy when I flash back to that night, when the knife is at my throat, the metallic scent of my blood fills the air, and I scream for help.
Nobody answers. Nobody comes.
There’s no superhero to rescue me. There’s only the villain and he’s not even cute.
“Harleigh?”
My eyes are squeezed shut, tight, while I’m huddled in the corner of the room, my hands over my ears, and I scream. I’m screaming for help
– for the nightmare to go away, for the man in the black ski mask who squeezes my breast and promises me a good time to leave and the scent of cheap cologne to disappear, and his grimy hands to stay away from the waist band of my yoga pants.
I’m still screaming.
“Harleigh, baby, I’m here.” Strong hands gently pull me in close, rubbing soothing circles into my back. I bury my face in Derek’s shoulder and I cry. Not the small tears of melancholy or the timid tears of sympathy. No, I cry the large and unending tears of trauma and sorrow, of horror and fear, and they drench his shirt until it’s soaked. It’s an ugly and devastating cry.
I hate that I’m weak and he’s here to see me fall apart.
“It’s ok Harleigh. You cry as long and as hard as you need to.”
And without a second thought, I do.
Chapter 4
I have yoga tonight. My relaxation and my internal reset, like a clock, yoga is my Zen. My moment to let everything go and just relax.
I’m a walking contradiction. Awareness of that fact doesn’t stop it from happening. Irony at its finest, I say I want the villain but what I really crave is the action and adventure. I don’t really want the villain. He comes like a thief in the night and steals my composure. He hurts me and lives in my nightmares.
Maybe that’s why I train so hard. The reason I go to the shooting range and always keep my gun on hand or I can hit a target, even a moving one, with decent accuracy. The reason I haven’t dated anyone new and I broke up with Eddie. Intimacy scares the shit out of me now.
My walls are built high because I won’t be a victim again. I’m not weak even if I have my moments. I’m fierce and strong as hell. Defending myself isn’t a problem. In fact, I can beat the shit out of just about anyone now. A year later, I hardly resemble the frightened girl who sat in the emergency room of St. Martin’s Hospital. She was weak. She was a victim, but not me.
I’m strong.
I’m a volatile vixen baby.
I own that shit. I’m the fucking stereotype that makes others stop and take notice, because, like Harley, I might be broken and a little crazy, but I can still kick serious ass and protect myself. I’ll overcome and adapt and I’ll find that fucker who hurt me one day and I’ll get my revenge.
