Mia hid in the shadows. Dylan ground his hips into a woman. They stood against a wall. Her head bounced against the concrete blocks as he pistoned his cock inside her. Over and over. Harder. Faster. The woman’s mouth hung open in rapture.
Warm rain soaked Mia’s skin, made her clothes cling to her body like a well-fitted glove. Hiding behind the garbage bin almost made her gag. The smell of rotten meat, vegetables and stale beer assaulted her senses. She wanted to flee but she couldn’t.
Everything about this setting was wrong. The virtual reality world was constructed in her mind in advance. She should be able to control the environment. Her patients always ended up in a serene setting. A place with gardens, pastel colors and running water. A peaceful place with no triggers. This was different.
Dark, urban, violent.
Dylan must be in control. Panic boiled. He must have hacked into the code. She’d heard whispers, rumors of criminal gangs trying to control the setting and override the failsafes. The technicians had dashed her queries, assuring her it was lies, that the code was secure. Obviously not.
That could be dangerous.
She focused her mind, dug deep inside her imagination and projected the images onto this world. She forced light into the surroundings, willed it to expand, to become what she required.
Nothing changed.
Was he blocking her?
Shoving away the panic, she took a deep breath. She wouldn’t let fear overtake her. If she died here, her heart would give out in reality. She couldn’t panic. Panic would get her killed.
She was safe. If her vital signs showed severe distress, her colleagues would pull her out. Still, with the rain beating down it felt extremely real.
What kind of world had Dylan drawn her into? How was he playing this game?
A grudging admiration washed over her. He must have found a way to hack the system, to control the closed environment. She respected his foresight and tenacity.
The sinewy muscles flexed in his arms and hips. The rain glistened as it ran over his dusky skin. Lust burned in Mia’s stomach as the woman raked her nails over Dylan’s well-sculpted shoulders, his back. She gripped his hips with wanton pleasure.
Was he really that good at fucking? Or was Dylan projecting his virility? In reality he might be a terrible lover.
Do you really believe that? No, she didn’t.
One of Dylan’s hands planted on the wall, the other molded to the woman’s ass, guiding her hips. Occasionally he turned his head in Mia’s direction and grinned.
She was drawn to him. She wanted his hands on her ass, his cock making her scream with pleasure.
Was he putting on this display for her benefit? Did he think to turn her on? Rock her carefully controlled world? In some strange way, it was working. Moisture dampened her panties. Her breasts swelled, heavy and achy inside the confines of her bra.
Damn him. He was sharper than she’d thought—he’d already homed in on her desires. The need to be taken, owned, possessed.
The woman screamed, gripped him with her body. Dylan roared. The raw fucking ended in a blaze of grunts and shudders. The woman slumped, spent, against the wall as Dylan pulled out, moved away and pushed his dick back into his pants before zipping.
She saw his lips move, heard a faint whisper. The woman scurried off into the night.
“Come out, Dr. Simon.”
Mia’s heart slammed against her chest. Watching him had made her forget her duty. She mopped a hand across her brow, pushed back her drenched titian hair and stepped into the light.
Her pulse beat wildly. Her instincts told her to run. Dylan Benjamin towered over her. His features danced with amusement, topped off by a sly smile. His fists clenched at his side. He looked like a panther ready to pounce on his prey. Power emanated around him. Darkness oozed from his every pore.
Was he more dangerous than they had anticipated?
She was afraid, but she wouldn’t let it get in her way. She had a job to do. It was time to embrace the dark.
“Hello, Dylan.”
His eyes gleamed. “Hello, Doctor. Like my choice of surroundings?” He motioned to the darkness.
“It’s…interesting.”
“Bet you weren’t prepared for that surprise, huh? Didn’t think your patients could control this world?”
“Congratulations.” She folded her arms, trying to appear bored with his silly little game. Maybe regain some control. “What do you hope to achieve?”
The amused smile returned. The cruelty and anger etched on his face made her step back. “Achieve? Nothing. I just wanted to fuck with your mind like you want to fuck with mine. Tell me, did you really think your parlor tricks would make me give up my deepest, darkest secrets?”
Mia hit the wall. She hadn’t realized she’d been moving backward with every word he spoke. She was trapped. Her body screamed for her to do something, anything. His file didn’t show a history of violence toward women, but standing here in the darkness with the criminal, she wasn’t so sure. Tension laced the air. Yet she couldn’t move. She was enthralled, captured by the tone of his voice. By the anger pulsing from him.
Deep inside her, something stirred. Something primal. Something forbidden. She wanted to taste him, run her tongue along his neck, feel him in her mouth, fuck him, sate her needs.
He wouldn’t deny her anything. He wouldn’t be gentle. His expression promised everything she craved and more.
“What do you want, Dylan?”
He reached out, stroked a fingertip down her cheek. “I think you need to be reminded of who you are. I think you need to come from behind your glass wall and remember what the world is really like.”
She snorted. “Hmph. The world is cruel and hard and fucked up. Believe me, I understand.”
She remembered being dragged onto a stage naked. She remembered cheers and whoops from a leering crowd. She could feel the shackles biting into her, tears streaming down her cheeks as men bid on her body. The painful memory twisted her gut and bile rose in her mouth.
Clearing her throat, she asked, “So why did you bring me here?”
“Because to truly be inside my head, you’ve got see where I’ve been. If you want to find out my secrets, you have come on this journey with me. We are the same, you and I.” He inhaled the scent of her neck and she forgot to breathe. “We are darkness. You have needs only someone like me can understand. Someone who’s been there. I want to unleash that. I want you to understand that this façade is not you.”
Panic danced in her gut. “You are so wrong.”
He stepped back, held out a hand. “Follow me. Follow me and become who you really are. I can satisfy your needs. Just let me show you.”
The rational part of her mind screamed for her to run. Following the beast could destroy her carefully constructed existence. But she was curious. She wanted to see his world. She wanted to shed the skin she’d worn for so long—good Dr. Simon. The selfless one. The brilliant one.
She didn’t want to pretend anymore.
The dark half of her soul roared to life, rolled over and stretched.
She slid her palm against his. “Lead the way.”
* * * * *
Cruelty has a human heart,
And Jealousy a human face;
Terror the human form divine,
And Secrecy the human dress.
The William Blake poem resounded in Mia’s head as she followed Dylan. Terror and secrecy, words that clothed Dylan like a second skin. Was his heart cruel?
The rain never ceased, never abated. It continued its steady fall, drenching them both. He led her through a maze of alleys, a labyrinth of twists and turns. The only sound came from the click of her slightly heeled shoes as she walked behind the silent predator.
There were no other words to describe the way he walked. He moved with the fluidity of someone at home in his own body. Graceful, feline even. Did a beast reside somewhere in his soul? Had it found the perfect match in the body of Dylan Be
njamin? Underneath the handsome veneer, did a soul of pure evil lurk?
He led them onto a busy street. Music blared from one of the numerous bars, and people milled around in various stages of undress despite the rain. She memorized her surroundings, as she might need to find her way around in the future.
It looked like any street you’d find in the underbelly of society. Had Dylan lived his life on streets like this?
A memory tried to surface. Mia as a child being dragged through a similar street by her mother, the hooker. The child wept. Mia slammed the memory before it could surface and take root in the VR. She didn’t want to relive her ugly memories in this place. It wasn’t who she was anymore.
Why had he brought her here?
Dylan stood still, focused on her. Sizing up his prey?
Confusion and curiosity warred in her mind. Should she terminate the session or should she go on? Terminating the connection now could show him how strong or weak she was. A man like Dylan would have no respect for her in future appointments. He’d see her as weak. Unworthy. Controllable. Easily scarred by the unknown. She’d never be able to manipulate a confession from him. She had to go on.
Dylan moved forward and grabbed her upper arms tightly. Desire unfurled in her stomach as the flesh started to bruise.
The pain turned her on. Fuck.
She needed to stay alert. If she was going to embark on his journey, she needed to maintain her focus, not drift off into a haze of lust.
Difficult when she could feel the heat radiating from his body. His fingers branded her. His sweet breath warmed her. His azure eyes filled with amusement as they bored into her, followed by a lazy smile.
Mia shivered. Sweat beaded on her spine.
“Welcome to hell.” His tone was ice-cold.
Adrenaline pumped through her body as she prepared to flee. Her mind screamed to turn from him, never bring him into the VR again. A voice hammered in her skull. He could hurt her. He could destroy her carefully constructed world. He could release things she kept buried, hidden, locked away.
But there was something else. Some other emotion stronger than the fear. Defiance? Arousal?
She lifted her chin. Facing the dark devil with all the courage she could pull from the depths of her being, she replied, “Lead the way.”
He tilted his head to the side, surveying her. Raindrops glistened on his lashes. His tongue moistened his lower lip. Mia found the gesture intensely erotic.
“Are you sure?” He leaned in.
The situation between them appeared intimate. Sexy. Two lovers about to embrace. The truth was far more dangerous.
“Are you sure you are ready? There can be no going back. No regretting your decision. I’m giving you a choice, Mia. Leave now or follow me into the depths of hell.”
Her breathing hitched. The pulse point in her neck throbbed. Goose bumps rose all over her body.
As the rain beat down, Mia had to make the decision—turn to the light or embrace the dark.
“Take me to hell,” she replied, slightly breathless.
Dylan released the grip on her arms and stalked across the busy street. Crowds parted as he moved, like Moses parting the Red Sea. Only he was no Moses and this was no journey to the promised land.
Mia squared her shoulders, stepped off the curb and followed him. Was this how it would be? Would her journey mean chasing after the devil? The crowd didn’t part for her. She was a nonentity. Someone who blended into the background. A chameleon. Even in this virtual world, Dylan exuded more power than she.
Dylan waited in the doorway of one of the bars. A large neon sign flashed “Hades” above his head.
Hades. The underworld.
As Dylan stood illuminated in the blood-red light, waiting for her, she wondered if it was a premonition. If Hades and the color red were an omen. Would this be her end?
Mia swallowed. Reaching Dylan’s side, she looked up at the flashing sign. She snorted and tried to appear more confident than she actually was. “This is hell?”
He flashed her a sly smile. “Last chance to end this.”
He was fucking with her. It was what he did. Get inside people’s minds. It was what made him a great criminal.
Did she dare trust him? The psychologist inside her whimpered at putting all her trust in a criminal. It went against every instinct. A stronger part of her mind warred with her conscious. Deep inside her soul, something stirred.
Something dark.
Forbidden.
It whispered for her to follow him, to indulge her dark side. Sexual attraction and need spurred her on.
Dylan Benjamin promised everything she craved. Would he provide the sexual release she’d been searching for?
“Let’s go, Dylan.”
He nodded, quickly disappearing into the darkness as he stepped into the bar. With one final glance at the virtual world above, she stepped over the threshold of Hades and entered the depths of hell.
Chapter Three
Mia followed Dylan through the bar. The lights were dimmed. Deep, rich crimson paint covered the walls. Black satin throws draped over the chairs and tables. Slow, sensuous music beat in the background.
The seedy atmosphere slid over her. She could feel the heavy mix of alcohol and arousal. It coiled around everyone and everything in the place, reeling them in, drugging them, teasing them with a promise of unseen things.
She glanced at the other clientele. Mainly men. All different varieties. The overweight man in the corner with his thinning hair combed over his head in a vain attempt to hide the growing bald patch. The men wearing business suits in the middle of the room—bankers, doctors. The men near the front of the room, dirty torn clothing, sweat-stained bodies. All here for the release places like this offered.
They were fixated on numerous platforms dotted around the bar. Platforms filled with gyrating seminaked women. Blondes, brunettes, redheads.
Mia rolled her shoulders, easing some tension. Dylan’s idea of hell was a fucking strip joint? Maybe she’d been wrong about him. Maybe he wasn’t as intelligent as she’d thought.
He stopped and motioned her to a table. She pulled out a chair and sank into the soft satin. It felt good. Warm. Dry. Her clothing clung to her, showing off every shape, every curve of her body. Her nipples peaked, stood to attention, poked through the cotton of her shirt. She didn’t care.
She looked at Dylan. He studied her, observed her every movement, every turn of her head.
“So, your idea of hell is a titty bar?” she mocked him, already bored.
Maybe he was nothing more than a common pervert. Maybe he was an arrogant fuck who enjoyed shocking women. He’d picked the wrong woman if he thought to shock her with a strip joint. She’d seen too much for this to offend.
He placed both hands on the table in front of him, linking them as he moved closer to her. “Half the people in here are murderers. The other half rapists. You stick around long enough, Doc, and I’m sure you’ll have no trouble believing we are in hell. Good thing this place isn’t real or you might have a problem. But you’re used to places like this, aren’t you, Mia?”
Mia snorted, hiding her discomfort. A niggling feeling worried the edges of her mind. Did he already know the answer to his question?
She glanced around and caught the interest of the man at the next table. He had pudgy features and bulging black eyes that matched his bulging waistline. He slowly rubbed his crotch. Up and down. Squeezed. Released. He flashed Mia a lewd smile.
Quickly, she turned back to Dylan. She’d learned at a young age not to encourage contact in places like this.
Dylan asked, “Does that make you uncomfortable? Does the thought that he might want to touch you, that he’s thinking about fucking you, make your skin crawl?”
The VR was a precarious world. Aspects of the unconscious mind could populate the environment. Was the pudgy man thinking about fucking her because Dylan wanted to? Things low in her body tightened, clenched.
She
swallowed the beating heart in her throat. “I’ve had much worse.”
“Really?” His expression remained neutral.
Mia matched his body language. “Really. You think being a criminal psychologist is all about textbooks, statistics and therapy sessions?” She moved back, relaxed into her chair.
She reached up to the lapel of her rain-soaked blouse and pulled the wide collar to one side, exposing an ugly pink puckered scar that ran just above her right breast.
“This was given to me by an inmate of a Company facility. He was a serial rapist who decided to see what my flesh tasted like. This,” she lifted the hem of her blouse, bunched the material just beneath her breasts, pointing at another large scar on her abdomen, “was given to me by a man who’d butchered nine people. They’d just brought him his evening meal. Some newly employed prison officer mistakenly gave him a plastic knife and fork. See how much damage a plastic knife can do?”
She let out a breath, trying to regain her emotions as he remained impassive. “Does a man trying to masturbate in front of me bother me? The answer is no.”
Dylan stretched and lengthened his spine. His muscles rippled as he folded his arms. “Interesting.”
A bare-breasted waitress came over to take their drink order. Mia ordered a vodka neat, no ice. Dylan ordered a whiskey neat, no ice.
He licked his bottom lip as the waitress disappeared. “I imagined you’d be a white-wine spritzer type of person.”
His mockery offended her. “And I never expected you to be the expecting type, Dylan. For a thief, expecting can be a dangerous business. Expecting could get you killed.”
Dylan laughed. “Thief is such a harsh word, Dr. Simon.” The laughter vanished. A hard look flashed across his face. “I don’t like harsh words.”
The waitress reappeared with their drinks and placed them on the table. Mia was glad of the respite. It gave her precious moment to think. They were locked in a game of cat and mouse. She had a terrible feeling she was the mouse. That he’d brought her here was telling. Maybe she could turn the game around, get under his skin.
Would Dylan add another scar to her collection? The world was plucked from fantasies, desires, images from the past. Had this been his reality?
Darkness Comes Page 2
