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Darkness Within

Page 7

by Isabel Lucero


  I watch as his eyes go wide and he takes a step back to get some space. “What do you mean?”

  “You keep acting like you got something to say to me, but you keep beating around the bush. I don’t like to play games, Nick, so if you feel like you need to get something off your chest, go ahead. But I’ll warn you, you better be absolutely fucking sure you want to go there with me.”

  “Donovan,” he says through a breath. “I don’t mean to offend you. It’s not like that at all. I like you, man, and I really think of you as one of my closest friends. I just . . . I don’t know.” He shakes his head, running his hand through his hair as he looks away. “I’m just going through a lot, I guess. I’m sorry. Don’t worry about me.”

  With a final piercing stare, I turn around and climb into my truck. I have work to do, and I’m already completely stressed out. Perhaps I will text Analeigh tonight, because these fuckers at work have already ruined my day, and I’m hoping a night of rough sex with her will put me in a better mood.

  Me: Hey. It’s Donovan.

  Analeigh: Well, hello there. I’m surprised to hear from you. What’s going on?

  Me: Told you I’d text. Do you work tonight?

  Analeigh: I didn’t believe you, but I’m glad you proved me wrong. I’m at work now, but I’ll be available around seven-thirty.

  Me: Do you want to meet up?

  Analeigh: Where? Your house?

  Me: No. I’ll be closer to you at that time.

  Analeigh: My roommate will be at home tonight.

  Me: Hotel?

  Analeigh: Uh. Sure.

  Me: I’ll text you details when I have them.

  Analeigh: Sounds good!

  AFTER OUR LAST exchange, I begin looking up hotels near her apartment. I don’t need anything fancy, because I won’t be staying the night, but I definitely need some time alone with her. Having a roommate nearby in her small apartment isn’t something I’m interested in, because I plan on fucking her so hard she screams until she loses her voice.

  Several minutes later, I find a place that will do well enough and call to reserve a room. On my way to the shower, I text Analeigh the address, and then toss the phone on the bed. Washing the day’s sweat and dirt from my body feels good, and the hot water beats down on my back, releasing some of the tension in my muscles.

  With a towel wrapped around my waist, I stand in front of the semi-fogged up mirror and run a hand over my beard. It’s getting a little too long, so I cut it down to where it looks like I have a few days’ worth of hair on my face, and then with a small amount of gel, I run my hands through my hair and I’m done. The only length on my head is on the top, as the sides are buzzed down, so the strands lay back.

  I shove my lighter into the half empty pack of cigarettes and stuff it in one of the pockets in my jacket, and I put a couple of condoms in the other pocket before heading out.

  The drive into Rialto takes about half an hour, but I try to enjoy the long drive. With the windows down, the somewhat cool air feels good rushing into the truck. I bring a cigarette to my lips and inhale, trying to clear my mind of the bullshit that went on earlier today. I can’t take that with me, because I’ll just get upset again, and that won’t lead to anything good.

  Nick disappointed me today. I don’t know what’s going on in his mind, but I don’t like where it seems to be heading. As I suspected before, he seems to have convinced himself of something regarding me. My only question is how the fuck would he know anything about what I’ve been up to?

  With a shake of my head and a final drag, I force myself to not think about it right now. I’m already approaching the hotel, and there’s only going to be one thing on my mind when I get there.

  I arrive first, checking into the room and inspecting everything before Analeigh arrives. It’s not a five-star suite or anything, but it’s nice enough. After turning on the TV, I empty my pockets, leaving everything on one of the nightstands. A few minutes later, I hear a small knock on the door.

  Even though I know who it is, I look through the peep-hole and see Analeigh combing her fingers through her hair and adjusting her clothes as she looks down at herself. I smile, wondering why women are always so concerned with those small details. We don’t care about any of that shit.

  “Hey,” I say as I open the door.

  “Hey,” she repeats with a smile.

  She struts past me wearing a tight pair of jeans, a maroon-colored t-shirt, and a pair of black boots. After putting her purse down on one of the chairs, she nervously fidgets with the small hoop in her nose and glances around.

  “Nice place,” she states, seemingly unsure of what else to say.

  I hook my thumbs inside my pockets and continue to look at her. “Yeah, I guess.”

  She laughs and moves to sit on the end of the bed. “So, you texted,” she states, giving me a smirk.

  “I did.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  “Good.”

  She laughs again, throwing her head back. “Oh, Donovan. What am I gonna do with you?”

  “What?” I ask, wondering what she’s talking about.

  “You don’t say much, do you?”

  Choosing to sit in the chair next to the window instead of on the bed, I reply, “I don’t have much to talk about.”

  She turns her body so she’s facing me. “I don’t believe that for a second,” she says with a glint in her eye.

  “And why not?”

  She shrugs, turning her head and looking down at her hand as she traces a pattern on the light green comforter. “I think you have a lot going on in your head, but you keep it to yourself.”

  I choke out a laugh. “Trust me, you don’t want to be inside my head.”

  “I’m sure it’s interesting.”

  “Sure,” I say with a crooked smile.

  “You saying you’re not interesting?” she asks with humor.

  “I think I’m very interesting,” I say, matching her smile, “but inside my mind is probably a litter darker than most.”

  “Huh,” she says, tilting her head. “I think everyone’s got darkness in them.” We pause, and I wonder where this is going. “No lights,” she finishes, tapping her temple with a finger while she laughs.

  I realize she’s just being quirky, so I laugh a short laugh. “You’re right. I’m just like everyone else.”

  She rolls her eyes as if to say yeah right. “Sorry we had to meet up here, but my roommate wouldn’t appreciate the company. She’s kind of a bitch.”

  “It’s fine,” I reply, not too concerned about spending sixty-five dollars for the room.

  “Did you have to work today?”

  “Yep. Five days a week, sometimes more. Depends on the job.”

  “What do you do?” she asks, kicking off her boots and getting comfortable on the bed.

  “I work for DC Construction.”

  “Oh, okay,” she replies, nodding her head.

  I smile. “Never heard of it, huh?”

  “Nope,” she says with a laugh. “Does that mean you build houses?”

  “I don’t do the building, but I operate the excavator that digs the holes for the foundation of the houses.”

  “Ah. That’s cool,” she says, feigning interest.

  “It’s work,” I say with a shrug.

  “You don’t like it?”

  “I like it fine. The people can get on my fucking nerves, but hey, that’s life.”

  She laughs. “Bad day?” I don’t respond verbally, I just nod once, and I’m sure the look on my face relays how I feel about today. “Okay, well, I’ll stop talking about it.”

  It’s only now that I realize we’ve been talking for way longer than I had planned. It happened easily, and I assume she worked some feminine trick over me, getting me to talk about myself. Fucking women. Time to get to the reason I invited her here in the first place.

  I stand up and take off the jacket, leaving it in the chair I just vacated.

  “I�
�ve been wondering,” she says, watching me beginning to undress, “how old are you?”

  “Twenty-four.” I take my black shirt off, dropping it to the floor.

  She licks her lips as her eyes roam over my tattooed-covered chest and abs. “Um. I’m the same age.” I only nod, stepping on the back of one boot to get it to come off, then repeat the process for the other one. “What are your tattoos of?” she asks.

  “There’s a lot there. You can look for yourself sometime.”

  “Okay,” she says softly, her eyes focusing on my fingers undoing the button to my jeans.

  “Take off your shirt,” I command.

  Her eyes meet mine, and she hesitates for just a couple seconds before obeying. I finish taking off my jeans, leaving me in just a pair of black boxer-briefs.

  “Jeans.” I only say the one word, but she knows what I mean, because she begins to take them off immediately.

  Her bra and panties match, the lace and bows telling me she put extra thought into what she wore for me tonight. I slowly make my way closer to the bed with her eyes tracking me the whole way. Tonight she’s not so straightforward, if anything, she seems a little nervous.

  “Take them off,” I state, eyeing the skimpy material that covers up the parts I want to see most.

  She reaches behind her, unhooking the bra and letting the white straps fall over her shoulders. Removing it completely, she tosses it behind her on the floor, then lays down on her back to remove the panties. She hooks her thumbs in the thin strips that cling to her hips and begins to push them down. With a slight lift of her lower half, she gets the garment down to her thighs, and wiggles her legs just enough to get them to fall to her feet. One leg comes loose, leaving the lacey material dangling from her right foot before she kicks it onto the floor.

  I stroke my growing cock through my boxer-briefs as I watch her. She doesn’t close her legs, allowing me to enjoy the view, and I appreciate that. Her arousal glistens between her thighs, and without another thought, I’m pulling her to the edge of the bed and dropping to my knees.

  My tongue darts out, licking her, tasting her, devouring her. She gasps sharply, writhing in the bed as I pleasure her with my mouth.

  “Oh, god,” she moans, her hands finding their place in my hair. “Yes, yes.”

  I slow my pace down, flattening my tongue and grazing it over her clit. She exhales with a moan, arching her back and pulling my head even closer. “Oh, that’s so good. Yes . . . please. Oh, god.”

  My cock swells even more, needing to be buried deep inside her. I stand up, wiping my mouth with my hand before pushing my boxer-briefs to the floor. Reaching over to the table where I dropped all of my belongings, I grab one of the condoms, rip it open and sheathe myself.

  I position myself between her legs, making sure each one is draped over my shoulders, and then I lean over her, bringing her knees near her head. This is one of my favorite positions, allowing me to go as deep as possible, while also being able to hit her g-spot.

  “Oh fuck!” she cries after a gasp. “Oh god, oh god, oh god.”

  I thrust in and out, not concentrating on being fast, so much as hard. Her arousal coats my cock so much that with each movement, you can hear the wet sound it makes when I thrust back in.

  Her chants continue, varying from strings of cuss words to calling out to a god that won’t save her from me.

  One of her legs falls from my shoulder, so I grab the other one behind the knee, pushing it further up while I plunge deeper into her at a faster pace. Resting on my forearm, I grip her hair at the base of her neck and pull, making her look at me.

  “You like this?”

  “Yes,” she pants, before squeezing her eyes closed.

  I pull on her hair again. “Look at me.” She does. “You like when I fuck you hard and rough?”

  She studies my face for the briefest of seconds before replying, “Yes.”

  “Good.” Dropping her leg, I flip us over, gripping her waist as she sits on top of me. “Ride me.”

  And she does. Her movements are frantic, seeking that blissful peak of pleasure. My hand goes to her throat, squeezing it in the way both of us enjoy. My other hand squeezes the meaty flesh of her ass before pulling back and spanking her with a resounding smack.

  “Ah!” she yells, the noise coming from the back of her throat. It’s not a feminine noise she makes. It’s guttural. Animalistic.

  I repeat the smack, getting off on the loud noise it makes and the screams it causes Analeigh to release. She’s uninhibited and desperate for more. My hand moves to her jaw, my thumb running across her bottom lip. She sucks the digit into her mouth, squeezing her eyes closed even tighter as she grinds herself on me.

  Her body begins to tense up and flush. The color paints her chest and neck a light red. I pull my finger from her mouth and squeeze her jaw before moving back to her throat. With a tight grip and my other hand giving her one final hit on the side of her ass, she screams.

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was being killed. The scream is rough and loud. She doesn’t care if anybody can hear her. Her tiny—but sharp—nails dig into my skin, scraping down from my chest to my stomach. The small burning sensation hits me, and the monster within begins to stir.

  The reaction to someone inflicting pain, intentional or not, isn’t a good thing. My body reacts on instinct, going into defensive mode, angering the monster inside me. He wakes up, looking to unleash hell on whoever’s responsible. While I try to stay in control, it’s almost as if this force inside me is too strong, bursting through my skin and taking over.

  In one quick movement, I lift her off of me, throwing her to the side and positioning her body on her hands and knees. After moving behind her, I shove my cock into her pussy with such force that she almost topples over. With a small yelp, she gets her body back into position, and I reach one hand into her hair, twisting it around my fist, and my other hand goes to the space between her neck and shoulder.

  I fuck her mercilessly, fighting the dark force inside me, because while I just crave the rough sex, he craves taking a life violently. I pound into her over and over again, impaling her on my cock and pulling her hair so hard, she’s forced to look up at the ceiling. My other hand clenches, my fingers gripping her around her throat.

  Analeigh grunts and groans, perhaps feeling a little anxious at the ferocity, but not being afraid enough to tell me to stop.

  So I don’t.

  Releasing her hair, I use both hands to grab ahold of her neck, fucking her harder and faster. I bury myself to the hilt each time I drive inside. A few seconds later, I bellow into the room as I come deep inside of her.

  After catching my breath for a second, I pull out, rip the condom off and throw it onto the floor, not caring about finding a trash can. She falls onto her stomach as soon as I let go, and for the briefest of seconds, a tiny part of me worries that she lost consciousness.

  She settles my curiosity almost instantly as she turns over and I see her chest heaving. I turn my head, looking up at the ceiling while I let my body recuperate. The room stays silent for a little while, only changing when she gets up and pads across the room to the bathroom. She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t put on clothes either.

  I close my eyes for what feels like just a second, but when I open them again, Analeigh is sitting down on the bed next to me, fully dressed.

  “Hey,” she whispers.

  “Did I fall asleep?” I ask, looking around for the clock.

  “Yeah. Just for a little bit.”

  “Shit. Sorry,” I murmur, beginning to get up.

  “No, no. It’s fine. I gotta get going anyway.”

  “Uh. If that was too much . . . you know,” I begin, giving her the chance to run for the hills.

  Analeigh grants me a grin. “Don’t apologize. It was like nothing I’ve ever felt.”

  I laugh a humorless laugh, and don’t bother to correct her assumption. I wasn’t going to apologize, but she doe
sn’t need to know that. “I’m sure.”

  “You’re different, Donovan. I get that. But I enjoy being around you. You’re not scaring me off. Don’t worry.”

  “Not yet,” I mutter, only meaning to think it in my head.

  She pulls back, surprised at my words. “You intrigue me. I know we already talked about not doing the relationship thing, but I think we could be good friends. I look forward to getting into that head of yours.”

  I don’t bother responding with what I want to say, choosing instead to keep those thoughts to myself. I can’t tell her that she’ll never be able to get into my head. And I definitely don’t bother trying to explain why she doesn’t want to be there in the first place. “Friends, huh?”

  She stands up and walks to the table with her purse. “Yeah. Why not?”

  I get up and grab my clothes from the floor, needing to get dressed so I can leave. “I don’t do the friendship thing that well either,” I say with a laugh.

  She scoffs. “Really? I saw you with friends at the strip club.

  “You saw me with people. Co-workers. Not friends,” I state, pulling my jeans on.

  “Liar,” she says with a wicked grin. “What about that guy at the restaurant?”

  “He’s the closest thing I could call a friend. You got me there.” No need to mention the strange vibes he’s been giving off.

  “Well, you could use another. Trust me, I’m a great friend.”

  I twist my mouth up at her. “Of course you’d say that.”

  Her jaw drops, feigning insult. “Come on. You can’t say you don’t enjoy being around me,” she flirts, biting down on her lip.

  “Of course I do, but what we have going on, and friendship, are two different things.”

  “We’re not friends?” she asks, unruffled.

  “We don’t know each other,” I say with a laugh, putting my jacket on.

  “Do you want to get to know me?” she asks in a serious tone.

  After thinking it over for a few seconds, I answer as brutally honest as I can. “It’s not about whether I want to know you or not. It’s whether you want to know me. You think you do, Analeigh. We have fun, sure, but getting to know me, really know me, is not like getting to know anybody else. I don’t say this to scare you, or to bullshit you, and I shouldn’t even be saying it at all, but getting to know me is a bigger commitment than you’re ready for. And I don’t mean relationship wise.”

 

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