Blackest Night

by Stephanie Hoffman McManus

  “So, kiddo, it’s just me and you again? What should we do tonight?”

  Eli shrugged. “Want to climb trees?”

  “We could do that, or, I have another idea? Want to go to the arcade and play video games.”

  His eyes lit up and he raced to pull his shoes on. He was still stomping his foot into one when he announced, “I’m ready.”

  “Hold up there, Sonic. Let’s get your shoe on right and you need to grab a coat.”

  While he pulled on a sweatshirt, I fired off a quick text to his dad, but then I shoved my phone inside my purse, not wanting to read any reply he might send.

  “Let’s go, you’re going to love this place,” I told Eli and steered him out the back door after locking up the front. I really needed to get a spare key from Nikolai if I was going to keep doing this. The neighborhood was nice enough that I didn’t worry too much about leaving the back door unlocked during the day.

  I found out on the way that he’d never been to an arcade before, and I think his senses were a bit overloaded with all the sounds and lights when we got there. Old school and new school came together with all your arcade classics and the latest in video game development. His eyes bounced all over the place and then he tugged my hand and pointed at one of the shooter games. “I want to do that one first.”

  For the next two hours he dragged me all over the place. We played shooter game after shooter game along with every fighting game he could find. I taught him pinball and Pacman and Donkey Kong, and then we raced on Mario Kart until my purse was no longer weighed down by the quarters I’d raided from my change jar.

  “This is it,” I told him, holding up the last four. “One more game. What’s it going to be?”

  We went back to the alien shooting game we’d already played six times. We killed aliens until we ran out of lives and the words Game Over flashed on the blacked-out screen.

  “That was so much fun!” Eli’s excitement couldn’t be contained as we left. He went on and on about his favorite games and how much he wanted to come back and bring his dad. He chattered all the way to the restaurant where we ordered big, juicy cheeseburgers and fries with chocolate milk shakes.

  He remained animated all through dinner and on the ride back to the house. I was beginning to regret the milkshake, but by the time nine o’clock rolled around, he’d already crashed—out like a log on the couch. I couldn’t even wake him to get him up to his bed. I struggled to carry him up the stairs and lift him into his bed. My arms burned by the time I half dumped him on the mattress and then tucked him beneath the covers. I brushed my hand gently over his soft hair and wondered if I would ever be doing this for kids of my own one day.

  I’d never been one hundred percent committed to the idea of kids. It’d always been a maybe someday thing, but Eli had me wanting things I’d never realized I wanted before. I flipped the light off and tugged his door partway closed on my way out of the room. I just needed to go spend time with someone who had a newborn, and that would probably cure this weird achy feeling in my chest and the pit of my stomach. All the crying and pooping would remind me they weren’t always cute and fun.

  I planted myself on the couch and changed the channel from talking cartoon animals to an old romantic comedy I’d seen a dozen times, but still couldn’t pass up any time it came on. At some point, I stretched out and dozed off until I heard the key in the door. Nikolai coming in the door jolted me awake. I sat up, trying to shake off the sleepiness, but I couldn’t fight back a yawn as he stepped into the living room and zeroed his gaze in on me. I swung my feet around to the floor and slid them into my boots, hoping I could get out of there with minimal conversing.

  “How was the arcade?” He tossed down his keys on the coffee table and stood over me while I zipped my boots and then stood.

  “Good. He had fun. I might have created a monster. I’m sure you’ll hear all about it tomorrow.”

  He made some unintelligible grunting noise that I didn’t bother trying to decipher. I searched the coffee table for my own keys and phone, pocketing both, not wanting to stick around another second.

  “We grabbed dinner after the arcade. He was out by eight-thirty. No issues, no bumps, bruises, or scratches, and he’s tucked into his bed, so I’ll get going and you can, umm, just text me I guess if you need a sitter again.” I skirted the coffee table and brushed past him.

  “Cassie, did you take the money?”

  I stopped and turned. “What money?”

  “The money I left on the counter. You didn’t take it last night. Did you take it tonight?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want your money. I don’t mind hanging out with Eli.”

  “Cassie, take the money,” he clipped. His tone brokered no argument, and I wasn’t in the mood to argue anyway.

  “Fine, whatever.” I marched into the kitchen, with Nikolai on my heels, and scooped up the small stack of twenties. I wanted to tell him it was too much, but then I decided to just take it, if for no other reason than as payment for having to deal with him. I pocketed the cash and turned to leave, but he filled the doorway. Rather than move, he continued to stare at me as if contemplating something. The downturn of his mouth indicated he wasn’t thinking happy thoughts.

  I made to slip by him, fully expecting him to step aside. He didn’t. I ignored the way my breath caught, and little prickles of warmth ran up my arm when my body brushed his. I needed out of here. I spared a glance at the board games that still sat on the dining room table. I didn’t want to take the time to gather them up. “You guys can just keep the games for now,” I told him, continuing to the door. “No one was playing them at my house, and Eli mentioned his toys still haven’t arrived.”

  “Thank you,” he said in a much softer tone. “He’ll appreciate that, and I’ll make sure they get back to you.”

  I shrugged and spared a final glance over my shoulder. He stood, holding up the kitchen doorway, hands stretched over his head, braced on the top of the frame. A tiny strip of tanned, taut skin played peek-a-boo just above his belt. A dark spattering of hair disappeared below. I had to force my gaze away. I swallowed nervously, not even sure why the hell I was nervous. Meanwhile, he seemed so relaxed, boots crossed at the ankle, just leaning there, watching me. Considering me. His eyes were the only thing not at ease. They were calculating. Penetrating. Dark. Flickering with indecision and something else.

  “Well, umm, like I said, just let me know if you need a sitter again. I work mornings all weekend and next week, so, uh, my evenings are free.” I turned and reached for the door handle.

  “What about Sam? Won’t he be disappointed if all your nights are taken?”

  My hand stilled on the handle. Just go, I told myself. I squeezed it tighter. All I had to do was turn it and pull, but I didn’t. “Look, Nikolai, on the phone, I . . .”

  “You what?” His voice was a lot closer now.

  “I—uh,” I faltered, staring at the peeling paint on the door and wishing I’d just opened it and left when I had the chance. “Can we just forget it happened? I was drunk and angry at you for being a jerk.”

  “And I tried to apologize for that.” He was even closer, probably standing by the couch, but I didn’t want to look.

  “You didn’t mean it though,” I tossed back. “And I don’t care.”

  “Is that why you went out and took home the first guy you found? Because you don’t care?”

  I spun around, intent on letting him have it, but my angry words lodged in my throat. He was right in front of me. A wall, trapping me between him and the door. Every instinct in me wanted to step back, but he was used to intimidating people, and I wouldn’t let him do it to me.

  “Not everything is about you, nor is it any of your business,” I managed.

  He took another step. “So, now you don’t want to talk about fuckboy Sam? Last night you couldn’t shut up about him? Did he not satisfy you quite like you hoped he would? Did you need something he couldn’t give you?”
/>
  “I’m not having this conversation with you. Or any other.” Because it wasn’t a conversation. It was Nikolai being an asshole again, trying to push me around and get whatever reaction he was looking for.

  I turned and grabbed the door knob, but then he was at my back and his hand came down on the door, preventing me from pulling it open.

  “He didn’t make you forget about me, did he, Cass?” He whispered, his low voice caressing the back of my neck. A slight shudder travelled down my spine and made my skin tingle all over. “Must be so frustrating for you. How many times have you closed your eyes and put our night in Spokane on replay before going to sleep? How many times have you gotten yourself off thinking about what it was like when I had you beneath me? Wishing we could do it again, and again.”

  His warm breath, uttering dark reminders of that night, feathered across my skin, and made something low in my belly clench. My heart kicked up and I had to suck in a deep breath to shake it off, letting anger take its place. I shoved off the door and turned to face him. He was forced to take a step back. “Listen, we don’t have to be friends. We don’t even have to like each other, but you can stop presuming to know anything about me or my life or what I want. You don’t have a damn clue.”

  One side of his mouth curled up in a smug grin. “Ah, but I think I do. And I think you think about that night a lot.”

  Blood rushed to my face, heating my cheeks with anger and something near shame, because I thought about it more than I wished I did. Wouldn’t any girl experiencing a sexual hiatus think about her last time? It was more than that though, because I knew Sam wouldn’t make the fantasy roster. I wouldn’t be thinking about last night for months to come. Truth was, he went on his way with my number, but neither one of us expected him to call. I felt zero disappointment. Thoughts of Sam didn’t evoke much of anything in me. But I’d be damned if I let Nikolai know any of this.

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” I bit out. “I don’t think about that night at all. Except when I remember what a prick you are.”

  He took an abrupt step toward me. My back hit the door before I realized I’d instinctively pulled away. Another step and he had me trapped there. “You’re lying,” he leaned in. “But you’re not wrong. We don’t have to be friends. In fact, I have this theory that the less we like each other, the hotter it will be.”

  The dark current passing between us had my insides trembling, but I struggled to remain outwardly calm. I swallowed thickly. “What will be hotter?”

  “This.” He shifted his body flush against mine, pressing me into the door. My muscles seized up as a jolt of electricity shot through me. I sucked in a sharp breath and my head fell back softly against the hard wood. I closed my eyes for the second it took to get control of my traitorous body. My skin hummed all over and I swear the room was several degrees hotter than it’d been a second ago. I shoved at him and wedged myself free, slipping away from him and toward the dining room.

  “Why would I let you touch me?” I hissed. “I hate you.”

  “I know,” he grinned. “And it must kill you that you want me anyway.”

  “I don’t,” was my witty, sputtered reply. I always had a smartass comeback, but not tonight. Not with him. He kept me fumbling for equal footing, but I knew I’d never find it. He’d always have the edge. He took a step closer and I scurried a step back, but it didn’t matter. He kept coming, eating up the short distance between us, faster than I could back up. My heart drummed wildly inside its cage like it was an excited animal. He stalked toward me and I put my hand out to stop him. He simply caught my wrist gently in his hand and tugged me toward him. I stumbled into his chest and he continued to back me up until I hit something hard again. He had me pinned against the dining room wall.

  “I know it kills me,” he growled, almost accusingly.

  “What?” I breathed shakily, unable to think straight.

  He pressed his hands on either side of my shoulders and leaned in so close I could see all the different shades of blue in his eyes. And the heat in them. I never thought they’d be anything but icy. I was wrong. Blue flames flickered in them tonight. “Wanting you.” There was no small amount of frustration in that admission.

  “But you hate me too,” I reminded him breathlessly.

  “That’s not what I’m feeling right now, pet.”

  I was having a hard time remembering why I hated him, myself. This close, I could only remember how well our bodies fit together, and the way his skilled hands played me as if I were his instrument. Something inside me was weeping, crying out, wanting to feel that again. Feel what Sam hadn’t even come close to making me feel.

  He brushed the back of his knuckles over my cheek. His fingers swept my hair back and then he traced the line of my jaw with the tips of them. He cupped my jaw and tipped my head back.

  “What are you doing?” I forced out, both alarmed and anxious.

  “Shhh.” His grip on my jaw tightened, preventing me from speaking again. He tilted my head further, exposing the column of my neck. He traced the tip of his nose along my jaw and down my throat. Tiny tremors pulsed through me, goosebumps broke out all over my flesh, and my knees threatened to give out. I clenched my fists at my side and held my breath. Any movement would press our two bodies together, and I knew the instant that happened, I would lose this fight. I was already losing, but I still had a scrap of my dignity left. Or did I?

  Nope.

  No, I did not. Not when his teeth scraped the sensitive point where my neck met my shoulder. I sucked in a sharp breath and my body trembled as I let it out. He bit down on my shoulder, and I sagged against the wall and failed to hold back the breathy moan that worked its way out from someplace deep inside my core. My hands grabbed his shoulders as my knees threatened to buckle.

  The hand that gripped my jaw and held my head in place slid down to curl gently around my throat. It was such a powerful and domineering gesture. Rather than turn me off, I felt heat pooling low in my belly.

  And then he murmured in my ear, “I’ve got you, pet, now what should I do with you?”

  A long, shuddering breath escaped me. I was coming undone from a few simple touches and whispered words. It wasn’t where he touched me but how he touched me. It wasn’t the words he spoke but the way his voice dipped into that low, raspy grow. He was confident and in charge, arrogant even, but that only served to make me needier, because a man didn’t get to be arrogant in that way unless he could deliver. I already knew he could. He had me right where and how he wanted me. I was at his mercy, trembling and breathless, my skin hot all over. I would have cried at how weak I was, how easily I was succumbing, but for the wild look in his eye. Desire was driving him mad as well, making his voice rougher and his breathing more ragged. I wasn’t the only one surrendering to something here.

  My fingers dug into the strong muscles around his shoulders. His tongue darted out to taste my skin and draw a path to the base of my throat where his hand was still curled. Even as I gave in, a part of me rebelled. I dug my fingers harder into his flesh until my nails were biting his skin. I wanted to inflict pain.

  A soft growl rumbled its way up from his chest. His other hand dug into my hair and tugged my head to one side. He dragged his lips along my jaw and captured my earlobe between his teeth, before whispering roughly into my ear. “If you want me to stop, you better say it now.”

  My lips parted to speak, and in my head, I heard myself saying, fuck you, but a soft whimper was the only sound that escaped.

  “That’s what I thought,” he growled and then released his hold on my neck. His hands yanked mine from his shoulders and he flipped me around to face the wall. He captured my wrists and dragged them above my head, pressing my palms flat against the rough, cool surface. “I only gave you a taste last time,” he continued. “Now, you’re going to find out just how bad I can make you want it. I’m going to make you beg for it, pet.”

  “The hell I will,” I managed to rasp out.

/>   He chuckled darkly, and a shiver ran down my spine. He had my wrists pinned to the wall above my head with one of his hands and the other landed roughly on my hip, squeezing and kneading the flesh there. My head fell back, and I stared up at the ceiling, not sure whether to pray to God for mercy, or if Nikolai finally touching me again was a mercy. “You will, because you want to, don’t you, pet? This is what you need. What no one else has ever given you.”

  His hand slid around my stomach, slipped beneath my shirt, and eased up my ribcage. I knew I shouldn’t want this, but I was powerless to tell him he was wrong, to tell him to stop. His teeth nipped at my shoulder through my shirt and then the bites became harder, hard enough that little surprised cries of pleasure/pain fell from my parted lips.

  His hand reached the silk and lace material of my bra and yanked down hard on it until my breasts spilled over the top. He roughly tweaked one pebbled nipple before taking my breast in his hand, squeezing, and massaging the tender flesh. He repeated the action with the other until they were both swollen and aching. He pinched one of my nipples again, hard, eliciting a gasp from me, and then both of his hands were off of me. He wrested my jacket off, and it hit the floor with a thud, my cell phone in the pocket, but I had little time to worry about my phone. He grabbed the hem of my shirt next and yanked it up and over my head. It too was tossed aside, and then his deft fingers were at the clasp of my bra.

  In another second, it was unhooked and torn from my body as well, and I assumed it joined my shirt and jacket on the floor. He caught my wrists and returned my hands to the wall. I braced myself against it as one of his strong arms curled around my waist, hugging my ass to his front, while his other hand pressed down between my shoulder blades, pinning me to the wall.

  The hand between my shoulder blades slid up and grabbed a handful of my hair, creating a sharp but not quite painful, tug on my scalp, while his other hand slid down over the swell of my bottom, cupping one cheek. He squeezed and groaned and then I felt his hard chest on my back as he dipped his head to murmur in my ear. “You know, I think I’ve changed my mind about your leggings. I kind of like them.” He drew back and squeezed another handful of my ass. “Or, at least I like your ass in them.”