“Oh, shit!” His eyes widen in disbelief. He anxiously glances around for any witness and then hurriedly dropping the pills back in his pocket. “You only needed one.”
A horrifying emotion strikes me. My hands cling to either side of his expensive button-down shirt, gripping tightly. “Oh my God! Am I gonna die?!”
“Maybe,” he taunts, grinning smugly, looking down at me. “It was just too easy. Something isn’t right.”
My brows frown. “What?”
“You’re too willing and too eager. You want to be in some kind of trouble. Don’t you?”
I release my hands from his shirt and take an unsteady step backward, bumping into a group of people. I murmur apologizes before he pulls me back to his chest by my wrist. “I can still give you a rush of danger if you want,” he whispers in my ear, then flicking it with his tongue afterwards.
I shudder and laugh nervously, wrapping my arms around his middle, holding on to him for dear life as we sway in a gentle motion, though everyone one around us are moving to a much faster tempo. “Can we just dance for a little bit?”
“Yeah, beautiful. We can dance all night.” He grasps my ass, pinning me into his hard-on and squeezes, and I let him.
After dancing for a while, the lights appear to flash quicker and slower at the same time. Dazed, I stare at the chunky scraps of glistening confetti as it showers down, fluttering all around us like glittering butterflies. Laughing breathlessly in pure delight, I open my mouth and try to catch some. Mr. Asshole starts to laugh hysterically when I begin to jump and down, sticking my tongue out my mouth like I’m trying to catch fluttering snowflakes. I don’t know why but I want to taste confetti. It’s so pretty and shiny like candy sprinkles. I don’t know how long I jump, but I keep hopping until I break out into a severe sweat.
Pieces of the glittering material stick to my forehead and chin and arms, avoiding my mouth all together. Mr. Asshole is still laughing. He’s laughing so hard that he doubles over with tears in his eyes, resting his hands on his knees.
Pouting, I stop bouncing. “I need some in my mouth,” I whine, vigorously shaking his arm.
His laughter dies. He immediately straightens his pose. “I can put something in your mouth.”
I smile, feeling elated now. “You can?” I’m no longer in control of anything I feel or say. I’m in this warm and fuzzy altered state where I want be loved and fucked at the same time.
His eyes drop to my lips as he nods. “Yeah. I can. It’s huge, too.”
Squealing, I excitedly clap my hands together. “Can I have it now?” I don’t know what he has for me, but I hope it’s really good.
His eyes narrow a little as he cocks his head to the side. “I don’t know, beautiful,” he taunts playfully. “Have you been a good girl tonight?”
“Oh, yes!” I desperately cling to his arm with both of mine. “I’ve been really good. Please?”
“You have to prove how good you can be. Okay?”
I don’t know why I want to please him. I just do.
“Okay.”
“Let me go.”
I drop my arms. Then he places a hand on the small of my back, pushing me towards him, crushing me to his chest. His hands start to travel up the back of thighs. I shudder and gasp as his hands move under the fabric of my dress. He pauses at my upper thighs. “Sill yourself, beautiful.”
“I can’t. It tickles.”
“You can. Wrap your arms around my neck and press into me if you think you’re gonna move.”
“Okay,” I mumble complying, nuzzling my face in his neck. He smells of cigarettes, sweat, and loud cologne.
His hands continue to explore my backside. His breathing begins to accelerate with mine. “I gotta fucking hot chick for once. Cannot believe my luck.”
Laughing, I decide to bite down on his neck. He bit me, so I want to bite him back. Retaliation.
“Shit!” He harshly shoves me back as his hand covers the bite mark. I stumble but catch myself before I fall down and bust my ass on the dance floor.
He eyes are black soulless pits and his lips curl up like a vicious animal. He looks angry and extremely frightening. “Bitch! You fucking tore a chunk from my neck!” Droplets of blood trickle down from under his hand.
Tears spring to my eyes, tasting the sharp tang of his blood in my mouth. It’s gross and tastes like salt and rust. I truly wasn’t trying to hurt him.
“I’m so-o-o-orry,” I sob. Taking in a deep breath, I try to calm down. “D-do I still get my prize?”
His eyes widen in bafflement. “Are you insane? I’m not putting my dick anywhere near a Hannibal Lecter bitch like you.”
“I’m not a Hannibal Lecter bitch,” I wail before he stalks away.
“His lost,” a familiar voice says from behind.
I twirl around to see Max Gabai. The sculpted perfection of his face knocks every wisp of air from my lungs. He chopped his wavy dark locks into a short buzz cut. And he’s smiling.
Beautiful, handsome Max Gabai from high school is smiling at me?
He waves an attention seeking hand in front of my face. “Hello? Isabel? Is anyone home?”
My hands reach out to hold his to my chest. “Are you real?”
His eyes slant halfway close as his smile broadens. “Yes. I’m real and so are you.”
“No way,” I say, astounded. “What were you doing behind me?”
His free hand tugs the flap of his jacket back and he flashes me a golden cop badge that twinkles. It’s pinned to his shirt uniform.
“You’re a cop?!”
“Yes,” he replies, still smiling.
“Are you going to arrest me for taking ecstasy and being a dirty whore?” I ask, squeezing his arm.
He laughs softly, giving his head a slight shake. “No. I’m not going to arrest you, Isabel. Just let me take you home.”
“B-b-but my brother died, Max. I’m so sad. Me so sad right now.”
“Isabel—”
“I can’t.”
He stares at me with strangest look, then his jaw tenses as he considers something. “My shift here is over. To gain a peace of mind, I need you somewhere safe.”
“Can I come home with you?”
His eyes move to my hands that grip his arm.
My phone begins to vibrate and ring in my bra while I idly gape at him.
Max grins. “Are you gonna get that?”
“I don’t think I can.”
Without warning, he slips his hand in my dress, snatching the buzzing phone out of my bra. Smirking, he scans the name on the screen and then answers. “Hunter, long time, no talk.” He pauses, looking at me as an infuriated voice shouts through the other end. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Ah, don’t worry about her, man. She’s with me. Safe. I’ll make sure to keep her nice and warm for you. Buh-bye.” He ends the call, turning his heated gaze to me. “You and Hunter?”
I nuzzle my face in the arm of his sleeve, loving the feel of it against me skin. “Me and Hunter?”
“Are y’all together?”
“Are we ever together? He said I didn’t exist.”
“You exist alright. You’re the most luminous thing in here. He’s just mad because he can’t have you. No one can because of him. Let’s get you nice and warm.”
Chapter nine
Deep Trouble
Max lives in a cozy cabin out in the boonies. Max and Hunter are alike when it comes to their space. They like their privacy or maybe just isolation. Slouching on the one of the big chocolate-colored leather couches, I look around in awe. Every piece of furniture and fixture is rustic with earthly tones of various shades of browns.
I convinced him to blast music on the Zen music channel on Direct TV. He slouches on the couch, smiling from ear-to-ear and watches me dance like a creature freakish from nature in the center of his living room.
“Can you imagine the world without hate and envy?” I make a peace sign with my two fingers and hold it out to Max’s face. He nods and grins. C
losing my eyes, I and toss my head back. “Peace in love, Max. Peace and love. That’s all the world needs. That’s all I ever wanted.”
I jump up and down. A sleek sheen of sweat coats my skin. I spin and twirl so fast I stumble backwards and trip over my own legs.
“Whoa!” I push myself up with my hands before Max can offer to help me. “The room is spinning.”
Max’s hands slide around the sides of my back, leading me to the couch. “I think you should sit down. I’m no expert on X, but you’ve been dancing for two hours straight.”
I shake my head because I see four Max’s. They’re all frowning at me. I blink a few times and then my sight adjusts as the other blurry Max’s fade away. “I’m thirsty.”
He cups my face, running his fingers down my flushed skin, causing me to shudder. He peels the sparkly confetti off my face. “Water?”
“Do you have hot chocolate with the big marshmallows?”
“Yeah. Rest for a while. I’ll be back in a sec, okay?”
I nod, looking into his eyes. Max has the most amazing eyes. They’re a dark violet, but if you pay closer attention you can see that his eyes are also laced with some kind of striking silver color. Absolutely spectacular. Max’s father emigrated from Iraq and moved to America, settled in Cherry Creek, North Carolina and married a lucky, stunning local woman.
Max is really, extremely, ridiculously good-looking.
He’s a…dream.
He disappears from my view.
My head falls back on the leather cushion, and I sway as a familiar song comes on. My mom loved eastern music and she loved this song.
“My mama loved this song,” I confess to the air. “She loved to cook dinner every night for Daddy, Tyler and me. She played this song sometimes when she cooked. She cooked a lot. She really liked this song.”
“It’s a great song,” Max replies, pushing a warm mug against my hands.
I open my eyes and take the white mug overflowing with a mountain of puffy marshmallows. I sip steaming, rich, delicious coco from the mug and moan. My eyes squint as I read the tiny black words going around the white mug decorated with red hearts and colorful squiggly lines. “Somebody loves you.”
He sighs and uncomfortably scratches his short hair. “It was a gift from…Lily.”
I glance at him, my brows pulled together. “Lily Adams?”
His eyes shift to a fixed space somewhere behind my head. “Yeah. She got it for my twenty–third birthday.” Which was earlier this year. June sixth, I think. It’s now early December. From what I understand, he broke it off with Lily. They seemed to be very in love the last time I saw them shopping in the square in the little boutique stores. He didn’t hold her hand. He had her tucked into his side, arm curled around her waist while his free hand clutched little pink and blue bags. They were laughing about something.
“You’re not over her,” I state.
His turbulent eyes gradually come back to me. “You never really get over anyone, as time passes they just seem like a dream or something. I love her.”
“She’s really kind and smart. Wasn’t she voted The Nicest Person in Cherry High?”
He gives me a slight nod. Then stands abruptly, walking into the kitchen.
I stare down at the hot chocolate in my hands at a loss of words.
I think I hit a nerve.
Max saunters out the kitchen with a beer bottle in his hand and my phone in the other. He tossed off his uniform shirt revealing his white undershirt and the top button of his pants undone. He flops down beside me, staring down at my phone and grinning. “I am having too much fun with Hunter. He is so pissed right now. The dude might have a heart attack.”
I continue to gawk him as I fold my legs underneath myself. I sit the coco down on the table. The warm, fuzzy feeling has amplified by a billion. It’s like tiny vibrations are pulsing throughout my body and soft feathers caressing my skin at once. Max’s skin looks so soft. I want to touch him. I want him to touch me. He talks, but I can’t comprehend what he’s saying. It’s like everything but the sound of my frantic heart is muted. He takes a swig of his beer, laughing, still looking down at the phone in his hand.
Leaning forward, I place a hand on his knee.
His eyes suddenly flicker up to me. For a moment, we just stare at one another.
I slide my hand up his thigh and squeeze his groin that hardens instantly. “I hurt Max. You hurt, too. Love me.”
He opens his mouth and then shuts it. He does this several times.
I squeeze him again. “Max, love me.”
He grunts, low and grumbling.
I unfold my legs and straddle his lap. My hand shifts down his pants, inside his boxers. I hold his scorching hot erection in my hand, my fingers aren’t long enough to wrap fully around. He’s large and so hard.
“Fucking shit,” he groans, eyes glossing over. “Isabel, you have no idea how hot you look right now. But you’re high and you’re gonna be buzzin’ for a while. I wanna love you, I do, really. It’s not right, though. I’d feel guilty about it later. I like you and you’d hate me forever for taking advantage.”
His warm breath fans across my heated face. His breath smells amazing like beer and sweet cotton candy. I want to taste him. Licking my dry lips, I incline forward, pressing my body against his.
He flinches back. “You should let me go, Isabel. I already feel like shit for not fighting your advances. I was just messin’ with Hunter’s head when I said I was going to keep you nice and warm.”
“I know what I want,” I whisper, gripping him rougher and kissing his cheek. “Love me. It’s alright. You can use me. I’m a whore tonight. I can be your whore.”
He inhales sharply. Seeing an open opportunity, I make my move and slam my mouth down on his. He’s resistant at first, staying completely still and not returning my kisses, attempting very hard not to enjoy the way I caress him. This doesn’t deter me, though. I kiss him harder and squeeze his erection tighter, my hand gliding up and down his length. I feel like a sex-crazed animal, deprived of everything Max has to offer. Then, slowly, I feel his muscles unclench and go lax and his breathing quickens.
“Stop jerking me. I’m gonna come. I can’t come when you’re like this. It’ll haunt me forever,” he says quietly. This is really bothering him. I feel like a rapist trying to coax him into unknown awaiting dangers.
I groan and roll off him. “I’m so horny. It feels like I’m going to die if I don’t have an orgasm.”
Conflicting emotions clash over his face as he stares at me. He shoves his hand through his short hair, releasing a long breath. “I’m sorry, Isabel. But I can’t. I really, really, really want to. I want to so bad it fucking hurts. Seriously. My dick has never been harder. But I can’t. Not while you’re in La-La Land.” He puts his beer on the wooden table and tosses my phone on the empty cushion next him. “Stay here. Don’t leave. I need a cold shower. Feels like my skin is on fire.”
“You’re not the only one,” I mutter under my breath. “I can probably fuck the entire football team at Cherry High and still be unsatisfied.”
He eyes me suspiciously, then stands, holding out his hand. “Come on. Get up. I don’t trust you alone. Only God knows what you might do next.”
Max told me to stay seated on the sink counter as he showers. He told me to face the door so I wouldn’t be tempted to join him, but once he started showering I couldn’t help myself. If I can’t touch him, I have to see him. The glass walls of the shower don’t obscure due to the temperature of the water, which is ice-cold. His nudity isn’t covered by anything. I can watch him with absolute clarity. His body is beautifully built, all ripped muscle, a football player’s body. Not one ounce of fat anywhere. My mouth goes dry as tiny rivulets of water flow over his brown skin, taut muscle, and powerful back.
“You were humming a second ago. It sounded nice. Can you sing to me?” Max asks, rinsing the soapsuds from his body.
I nod and turn my gaze to his black fuzzy s
lippers on the white tiled floor.
My little moon-pie, you make me so brave
My little moon-pie, you make me so strong
My little moon-pie, I sing you this song to remember me when I am gone.
Never forget that I love you so much
Even the days when you’re crying and making a fuss
Your big green eyes always give me a rush
There is no one like my sweet little moon-pie.
I pray for my little moon-pie every morning and night
God answered back with a bundle of delight
Two of his angels from heaven took flight
And blessed me with two more little moon-pies.
Mommy loves you more than hearing the sound of her own heartbeat.
And always remember that after I die.
I love you my sweet little moon-pie.
I finish the lullaby my mother sang for me when I was younger. She was pregnant with Tyler when she first sang that to me. I never noticed how sad it is until now.
“That’s kinda gloomy, Isabel.”
Max’s black, fuzzy slippers get blurry from the tears in my eyes. They burn but I don’t allow them the fall. “Life is gloomy, Max. We, humans, live, fight, love, and die. Who knows what happens after we die. Our lifespan is so short. Will I experience anything beautiful ever? There is only tragedy and pain in my life. Tyler was beautiful. No. Tyler was beyond beautiful. He was the reason I wanted to breathe.”
“I’m sorry.”
I screw my eyes shut, holding the edges of the sink countertop, my breathing heavy. The pain, it hurts to a degree I can’t withstand. I can’t survive it. I have to force myself to take big gulps of thick, moist air to calm down. “Don’t, Max. You didn’t know him. If you did, you probably would have made his life a living hell like your brother, Rex. He, Rex, was one of many people who made my Tyler, my Tyler, jump off The Suicide Bridge. The entire football team hated him…” I trail off, pressing the hysterical wail deep down inside my chest.
Pure Illusion (Web Of Deception #1) Page 5
