Sinister Kisses (The SKALS Series)

by Noir, Adriana

  “Taylor.” He motioned her to his side with a slight inclination of his head. Glancing back at Irene, he forced a smile. “Excuse us for a moment.”

  Confusion stamped Taylor’s face as he pulled the laundry room door shut behind them. She backed against the washer, her eyes darting to his. The way her gaze flickered to his waist in search of his belt was not lost on him.

  “I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I didn’t think you would be home so early, and I had no clue you were standing there. I’m sorry if my comments embarrassed you.”

  He regarded her for a long moment and nodded. Inching forward, he pinned Taylor against the washer with his body and braced his hands on either side of her. “It’s not like you to be so brazen,” he said, reaching up to trail a finger down the side of her neck. “Is that the kind of behavior her company elicits?”

  She shook her head. “No, Sebastian. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  “See that it doesn’t,” he warned. She shivered as he cupped her chin. He traced her mouth with the pad of his thumb as he stared down at her. “On the other hand, I’m glad you take such enjoyment from the things I do to you.”

  Taylor opened her mouth to speak, but he silenced her with a shake of his head.

  “Drop your pants and turn around.”

  She shook with an uncertain tremor. Her hands trembled as she slowly peeled her jeans down. She glanced at the door, pleading branding her face, but she turned around. The grate of his zipper sounded unnaturally loud in the hushed confines of the room. It took a little coaxing, but she soon dampened against his hand. Lining himself up, he grabbed her hips and pushed into the tight heat of her body. Sebastian growled and stilled with a shudder. Sliding a hand around front, he ground deep and strummed his fingers across her pulsing nub. He felt her stiffen and brace herself against the threat of pain.

  “Relax, darling,” he murmured against her ear. “You didn’t do anything. I just want to feel you and enjoy that pleasure you claim I give. Though you may want to hurry. Your friend is out there waiting.”

  He moaned feeling the play of her body around his. Each quiver, each tightening, grew more powerful, adding to his torment as he fought to remain still. Taylor arched against him. Her hips rocked against his fingers. She panted, and her imploring whimpers threatened to push him over the edge. Grinding his teeth, he doubled his efforts and growled a raspy encouragement against her ear. Her snug tunnel clenched without warning. Sebastian groaned, clamping a firm hand over her mouth to smother her lusty cries. He kept strumming despite the frantic buck of her hips, carrying her through each battering wave of bliss until she slumped in his grasp. Holding her up, he drove into her with a few forceful thrusts and bit back a cry as he shuddered with the intensity of his release.

  The blood roared in his ears as he leaned against her back and kissed a slow path up the side of her neck.

  “Get rid of her,” he ordered, still trying to catch his breath.

  Easing out of her, he pulled his pants back up and refastened them. His gaze hardened at Taylor’s look of pleading. Lowering her head, she retrieved her jeans from around her ankles and shimmied them over the curve of her hips. He swallowed as desire threatened to stir again. Gently snaring her elbow, he steered her toward the door. A smile played on his lips as he took note of the uncertain wobble in her steps. Tugging her back to him, he stole a lingering kiss.

  “I love you,” he said, smoothing the hair back from her face.

  She blinked still trying to regain her senses as she peered up at him. “I love you, too, Sebastian.”

  Strolling out into the kitchen, he offered their houseguest a curt nod before snagging a bottle of water from the fridge and heading to his study. A smug grin rode his lips as he felt her knowing stare trail after him. As he’d said before, he had more than one way to prove his point.

  Taylor frowned, pushing the sautéed vegetables across her plate. She could feel Sebastian’s eyes boring into her and the tension radiating between them. He was waiting for an answer. One that she wasn’t sure she knew how to give. The afternoon had been stressful enough between dealing with Ralph’s comments at the diner and Irene’s quizzical expression when she’d exited the laundry room and politely used dinner as an excuse to get her friend to leave. The look of pity and concern in the redhead’s eyes had assured her she was fooling no one. Now Sebastian was telling her not to leave the house because some psychopath could be on the loose. Not just any psychopath either, but the one that he had cut from ear to ear right there in their own dining room. What was she supposed to say?

  Her stomach cramped and rolled for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Panic seized her as she realized this time was the real deal. Shoving away from the table, she bolted. A wince crossed her face and dread locked around her heart as she heard him slam his fist on the table. Breaking into a run, she scrambled for the half bath off the kitchen, cursing the sheer size of their house. The uneasy prickle on the back of her neck told her Sebastian followed close behind.

  She fell short of her goal. Desperation seized her and she gripped the edge of the island with a miserable heave. Her entire body shook as she spilled the contents of her stomach into the sink. Time after time, it emptied with a forceful spasm until she was too weak to stand. Sobbing, she sank to her knees and held out a staying hand. She curled in on herself as Sebastian unfroze and crouched down beside her.

  “I’m sorry,” she choked. “I wasn’t running from you. I c-couldn’t make it. I tried.”

  His fingers curled around her chin, forcing her gaze to his. She sagged. The displeasure lining his face had given way to gentle concern. His sage eyes were soft and probing as they searched hers.

  “Shh, baby. I don’t care about the sink. Are you alright?”

  She offered a feeble nod and wiped the back of her mouth with her hand. He frowned and rocked to his feet. Uncertainty rattled through her as he crossed the room. Pulling open the fridge, he grabbed a bottle of water. He twisted off the cap before kneeling next to her. His free hand felt her forehead and brushed the sweaty locks of hair away from her face.

  “Drink this,” he said softly. He waited until she’d taken a few hesitant sips. His shoulders lifted with a quiet sigh. “Is this about what I said?”

  “No,” she whispered. “I felt sick all day. I think I picked something up at the hotel. I’m so sorry.”

  His eyes lifted to hers. The look of worry on his face deepened, as did his frown. “Don’t be. I will take care of it. Can you walk?”

  Working her bottom lip between her teeth, she nodded. He leaned over and kissed her head. His fingers stroked her hair as he studied her.

  “I want you to go clean up and get ready for bed. I’ll be up in a few.”

  Her gaze darted uncertainly toward the dining room before flittering to the sink behind them. She winced with a combination of pleading and shame.

  “Don’t argue with me, Taylor. I am more than capable of cleaning up down here,” he stated gently. “Go.”

  Holding onto her arms, he helped ease her off the floor. His palms rubbed against her offering comfort and warmth while he made sure she was steady on her feet. She offered a weak smile at his wink and, after being prodded along with a pat on her ass, she shuffled toward the stairs. Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t remember ever being more embarrassed or ashamed. She’d thrown up in the sink of all places, and now he was staying behind to deal with it. It wasn’t exactly a prelude to romance.

  After brushing her teeth and gargling, she took the quickest shower possible. Her stomach still churned, rebelling with a mind of its own. Tamping down several miserable swallows, she struggled to get the nausea under control and wandered back into the bedroom. Sebastian sat on the edge of the bed waiting. He’d already turned the plush covers down. A long soft tee shirt lay draped across the foot of the mattress, and the soft glow of the fireplace spilled through the room. She grimaced at the faint odor of bleach wafting up from downstairs.
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  He stood and unraveled the fluffy towel she’d wrapped around her. His touch was light and reverent as he helped tug the shirt over her head and urged her into bed. She stared at him, watching as he slowly peeled out of his clothes and slid into bed beside her. Pulling her against him, he eased her head onto his shoulder and stroked reassuring circles against her back.

  “Do you need anything?” he asked.

  “Just you,” she murmured, snuggling closer into the heat and comfort of his skin.

  “You will always have me, darling,” he murmured, pressing his lips against her damp hair. “Death is the only thing that could ever tear us apart, and even that would fail. Somehow, some way, I would find you.” He lifted her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. Settling them both against his chest, he smiled. “It’s just you and me, Taylor. Nothing else matters.”

  “You make it sound so easy,” she whispered. “So true.”

  “It is. No matter where you go, I will follow. You are everything to me.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she said, tilting her head to peer up at his face. She loved the deep chasms that spread across his cheeks as he grinned. “I love you, those dimples, and those crazy curls way too much. The devil himself couldn’t drag me away.”

  Sebastian responded with a soft chuckle. “That’s very good to hear.” His smile slowly ebbed as silence fell between them. He stroked her fingers in an idle caress. Lifting them, he planted a kiss on each one before returning her hand to his chest. “We never did finish our conversation,” he mused.

  Taylor blew out a deep breath as some of the tension returned. Fear coiled around her gut, making her stomach clench. She felt him turn his head and the weight of his stare fell across her as he studied her face. Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, she nibbled the plush swell.

  “Talk to me,” he urged. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  Her vocal cords felt swollen and coated in rust. Burying her nose into his shoulder, she hid her face. “I’m scared,” she admitted.

  “Of what?”

  “Of this guy. Of what could happen. Why did you have to do those things to him, Sebastian?”

  He sighed. His swallow was the only thing to break the silence. Looking up, she watched the emotions play across his face. It hardened, and for a second there was a brief flash of anger. Anger and something else. Something much more sinister—darker. The muscles beneath her head tightened with his shrug.

  “It’s part of who I am,” he admitted quietly. “It’s what I had to do. To protect you. To protect us.”

  “But all he did was touch me. Even Josh said he was drunk.”

  Sebastian shook his head. “No, Taylor. It was so much more. He crossed the line, and I pushed him back over it. I can’t afford to be weak, let alone show it. Especially not in front of my team. Those men depend on me to lead them and set an example. You depend on me.” He sighed again. “The why doesn’t matter. In the end, this is where we are. I’ll order extra security and have them stationed outside. No one will be able to get in without my say and you,” he said, planting a tender kiss on her palm, “are to stay put. I don’t want you leaving this house unless I’m with you.”

  “For how long?” she whispered.

  “At least until we have this whole mess straightened out.” He offered a slight smile and traced her shoulder with his forefinger. “Maybe never.”

  Taylor sat up, levering her head off his shoulder. Her eyes flew to his face, searching for some sign, any sign, that he was joking. He regarded her with a curious stare, his expression as stoic and unreadable as ever. She licked her lips, but they still felt parched, her tongue thick and swollen.

  “Sebastian…I love you, and I understand we need to be careful right now, but that’s not funny. You can’t really expect me to live the rest of my life locked up here like some kind of prisoner.”

  His head tilted. “Prisoner? You have everything here.”

  “I’m not saying it’s not beautiful, but if you keep me under lock and key, it’s still a cage even if it’s gilded.”

  “Is that what you want, Taylor?” he whispered quietly.

  She swallowed as his eyes narrowed and took on that dangerous gleam.

  “Do you want to see what being under lock and key really is? I assure you that can be arranged.”

  Her heart sank then hammered. “No, Sebastian. Please, just listen to me. I’m just saying it’s not fair…I don’t want--”

  “Not everything is about what you want, Taylor. This conversation is done. Get some sleep.”

  “No.”

  “No?” he asked softly.

  She knew that tone, that word, and that pressing tilt of his head all too well. She’d only experienced what followed once or twice before, but that was enough. She’d witnessed the aftermath more times than she cared to count. Her breath hitched and she inched toward the other side of the bed. Feeling him tense, she scrambled to get clear of the mattress. He snared her hair and wrenched her back with a savage yank. A pained cry tore from her lips, and she struggled as he loomed over her. Absolute fury twisted his features into a fearsome mask. Taylor trembled at the rage brewing in his eyes. The fist in her hair tightened, and the other clamped around her throat, pinning her to the bed and cutting off her feeble attempts at getting air.

  “Taylor, Taylor,” he whispered with a slow shake of his head. “Where did you think you were going to go?”

  Unable to answer, she stared back at him with tear-filled, pleading eyes. He released her neck, but a vicious backhand snapped her head to the side. White-hot pain exploded across her cheek. Dizzying light detonated before her eyes. The bite of his fingers silenced her anguished scream.

  “I warned you,” he said, unfurling his hand from her hair to stroke her blazing cheek in a deceptive caress. “Don’t you ever try to run from me. Ever. Do you want to leave me, Taylor? Is that what you were trying to do?”

  Her lungs ached, burning in her chest. Her heart felt like it would explode. She tried to clamp her legs together to still the throb of her bladder. Whimpering low in her throat, she shook her head as much as his hold would allow. Desperate to appease him, she reached up and ran her trembling fingers along his arm. Dizzy and disorientated she gasped for air, sobbing and begging, as he hauled her to her feet. Her legs caved. Falling, she crumpled at his feet. Strong fingers sank into her arm, dragging her across the room. The carpet abraded her knees as she fought for enough purchase to stand. She barely recognized her own voice or the broken cries echoing through the room.

  Cold terror silenced her as Sebastian pulled the drawer to his nightstand open and her gaze locked on the gleaming silver pistol in his hand. The click of the safety sounded with the force of a cannon in her ears. Shaking her head, her eyes darted to his, pleading. Her hands shook as she lifted them. A low, keening whimper broke from her throat as Sebastian crouched on the floor beside her. His lean muscles constricted like a snake as he wrapped an arm around her.

  “Do you want to leave, Taylor?” he asked softly.

  She winced, trembling as the cold press of steel kissed her temple. “N-nooo p-pleaaasee. Please, Sebastian.”

  “Shh,” he soothed, stroking the back of her head. “Listen to me carefully, sweetheart, because I am only going to say this once. This…this is the only way you are ever going to get to leave me.”

  She sobbed, choking back a scream as his lips settled above the gun, kissing the side of her head.

  “Do you understand me?”

  Her chest jerked with rapid inhales. She was panting, her breath coming a hundred miles a minute. Slamming her eyes shut, Taylor nodded. God help her, she was going to pee—and then he really would kill her. Her body snapped into rigid tension as she felt him smile into her hair.

  “Good girl,” he whispered.

  Standing, he crossed the room and retrieved his pants. After pulling them back on, he relocked the safety and tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans. She remained
crouched on the floor, too terrified to move, as his pale stare bore into her.

  “I’m going to assume whatever you came down with has made you delirious. Get back in bed. I have some work to do. If you are smart, you’ll get some rest and pray your attitude improves by morning.”

  V.

  She’d never put much stock or belief into fairytales. It was hard to believe in things like happily ever after when your father walked out on you at such a young age. It was harder still to cling to that faith when your own mother turned her back on you years later. But last night—Taylor shook her head. Last night something deep inside her had shattered and broken. Whatever small illusions she’d clung to had withered and died between the brutal slaps and the cold press of steel. Her lips trembled as she regarded her face in the mirror. Faint marks still marred the high ridges of both cheeks. Dark, troubled shadows stretched beneath her eyes, like the remnants of a boxer’s fists. That, she could almost handle. What killed her was the heartbreak, the anguish of losing what she thought she had. Her chest ached and her stomach remained knotted with cold dread. Everything in life was a lie.

  Tears spilled unbidden as she tugged her hair up into a loose ponytail. She wanted to go back. To find that place where they were before, to not know the things Sebastian was capable of doing. But there was no return trip. No way home. Her eyes were open now, and she had no idea how she was going to face him again. The only thing that was clear anymore was that she had no choice. No say.

  She turned from the mirror and crossed the expansive bedroom to peer out the window. He was ever a man of his word. Armed guards stood stationed near the front gates, their figures dark and ominous against the bright morning cheer of the sun. Her shoulders fell as she swallowed against the lump in her throat. Maybe it wasn’t Sebastian’s intentions in the beginning, but she had no doubt he’d given them strict orders to keep everyone else out and her in. Shame washed over her, dragging up the first pangs of guilt. What had she done? In some sick way, she couldn’t help but feel she was partially to blame. Leaving him had never been her intention. At least not then. Now—now, she wasn’t so sure. Her mind argued she should. Her heart clutched at threads. He was under a tremendous amount of stress. She should have kept her mouth shut. She knew better than to push. A million things, a million reasons fluttered through her brain. Most of them disintegrated like ash before she could cling to the hope they offered.