I know curiosity prevents her from walking away.
She always has to know why I’m here.
Always needs to be just that little step closer.
I swiftly walk behind a different tree and watch her approach the one I was behind. Her clothes are soaked from the rain, making her look even more appetizing than normal. I’m unable to stop myself from pouncing on her.
Exactly when she doesn’t see me coming.
From behind, I stalk up to her and push her against the tree. With my hand, I block her mouth, while my other holds her down.
“Don’t scream,” I whisper in her ear, my tongue darting out to have a quick taste.
She softly shakes her head, but her eyes are wild.
“What are you doing here?” she murmurs through my hand.
“Watching you …” I say, looking into her eyes to see her reaction.
My lips can’t stop themselves from pressing a kiss onto her skin, though. Her head leans back onto my shoulder, almost as if she wants me to kiss her.
My hand grips her waist and snakes its way up her wet shirt, curling it up so I can grasp her tit and squeeze. She moans when I twist her nipple.
“You knew I was here …” I whisper. “Say it.”
“I knew it,” she says with a hampered breath through my hand.
“And still, you came closer,” I murmur, planting another kiss below her ear.
“I needed to know …”
My hand now dives downward, pushing its way through the fabric of her pants to reach into her panties. Everything is soaked—even her pussy—and I grunt with excitement.
“You needed to know if I was really here?” I toy with her clit, twirling my finger around it, playing with her emotions and her arousal. I love the sight of her face as she loses control in my arms, unable to stop it.
Trapped between my arms against a tree in the soaking rain, she has nowhere to go, and I have dirty plans involving her. But does she still want me after everything that happened?
I remove my hand from her mouth, hoping she won’t make a sound.
“I killed your parents,” I murmur into her ear, ripping away the button of her jeans and unzipping her.
“I know,” she replies, still moaning as I rip down her panties.
“Are you scared of me?” I growl, thrusting my fingers up her pussy.
No words. Nothing except soft moans and eyes that roll into the back of her head.
I know exactly how to play her.
How to make her do exactly what I want her to do.
“I’m a killer, Hyun,” I growl into her ear, pinning her harder against the tree. “And I want to fuck your brains out.”
I rip down my zipper and pull my dick out without even taking the trouble of pulling down my jeans. I’m so damn hard right now, and I need to be inside her.
So I grab her wrists, pin them together, and push my cock against her entrance.
“We’re in a cemetery,” she mutters.
“I don’t fucking care. My cock fucking wants you, and it’s going to claim you now.”
I push deep, burying myself in her wet pussy. And god, does it feel good.
Like an animal, I fuck her from behind. Hard. Fast. Beastly. With no remorse or regret.
And I fucking love how wet she is for me. How, after all this, I can still fuck her because she’s mine and mine alone.
Her skin is so damn wet from the rain; my tongue dips out to lick the drops off her skin. She moans softly, and I take it as a sign to start rubbing her again.
It feels so wrong, fucking in a cemetery, but it’s hot too, in a kinky way. I pound into her, pumping all my pent-up rage into her. I can’t control myself anymore, and I wouldn’t even want to at this point. All I want is to watch her come. And when she does … it’s magnificent. So beautiful is that look of pure desperation washing over her, rain still splattering onto her skin.
I feel her muscles around my dick, squeezing, making me wanna come.
So I pull out and push her back down, forcing her to bend over. That’s when I blow my load all over her naked pussy and ass. Groaning, I keep coming, all over her, squirting myself empty over her holes.
And it’s the best fucking feeling in the world.
Panting, I push my dick back into my pants and pull up her panties. I press a kiss on her back, whispering, “Don’t move.”
She listens, staying put against the tree like a beautiful flower leaning against it.
The water mixes with my juices in an ultimate mix of deliciousness. I swear that if I had my camera with me right now, I’d take a snapshot.
But for now, my memory will have to suffice.
I grab her hands and lift them, pulling them over her eyes. “Close your eyes and count to twenty.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
She starts counting, her voice soft but still audible. When I’m sure she can’t see me, I smile and turn around, disappearing from the premises.
I know she’ll probably hate me for leaving her there, but there’s not much else I can do except leave. It’s a cemetery, after all … not a place to be found alive. Or fucking.
All I can do is wait … wait until she makes the decision.
***
Hyun
Days later
I waited until the media and reporters in front of my house were gone before I ever went out. It was too risky to try to leave, knowing they could follow me. So I staked out in that hellhole for a few more days, watching them from behind the curtains. Waiting until each and every one of them had left before I grabbed my things and stuffed it all into a big suitcase.
Now, it’s finally time for my freedom. For the first time in my life, I can decide what I want to do without anyone telling me that it’s wrong or that I should feel guilty.
But the first thing on my list isn’t something I enjoy. Still, it must be done, for the sake of keeping up appearances.
With a fresh bouquet of flowers, I march along the pebble path, admiring the beautiful tombstones laid out on the terrain. I think about death and about how close I came. Too close.
In the distance stands a stone angel with a crown of flowers around her head, her fingertips touching each other as she rises up into the sky. I decide, there and then, that once it is my time … my grave will carry that tombstone.
I continue my stroll with my suitcase behind me, the small wheels making a lot of noise skidding on the path. Clutching the flowers close to my heart, I walk until I meet the name I was searching for.
Here lie Mr. and Mrs. Song. May they rest in peace.
I look down and take a deep breath, blowing out a sigh as I place the flowers on top of the mound. Mentally, I say my goodbyes and make a cross on my chest.
Then I spit on their graves.
Twice.
“I had sex at your funeral,” I growl.
I turn and walk away, determined never to return.
When I get to the cemetery gate with my suitcase still in my hand, a car drives up the lane, and the window rolls down. A familiar face greets me.
“Get in.”
I quickly run to the other side and jump in, shutting the door … before grabbing Drake’s face and kissing him harder than I ever have before.
“And here I thought you were mad at me,” he says between my kisses, grinning stupidly.
“Are you crazy?” I muse. “I was the one who asked you to meet me here.”
“No, but I was a little worried, seeing you walk up there with a bunch of flowers. I almost started wondering if you had regrets.”
“Pfft …” I raise a brow. “No way. I don’t miss them. In fact, I’m glad they’re gone. Along with that slimy asshole.” A lopsided smile spreads on my lips as I throw my suitcase in the backseat and add, “Besides … I was the one who asked you to kill them, remember?”
He nods, smiling back at me like he’s impressed at my willpower. “And now …?”
I bite my lip and stare
at him with half-mast eyes, teasing him with a kiss right under his lips. “Now, we go to the bank, skip town, and roll around in all the cash we could ever need.”
25.
Accompanying Song: “What Have We Done To Each Other” by Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross
Hyun
8 months before
In the corner of the coffee shop sits a man behind a laptop.
He isn’t just a random, ordinary man with dark hair, wearing a thin, black coat and a red scarf.
This man comes here every day of the week.
More specifically, I’ve been told he’s been coming here ever since I started working.
From the corner of my eye, I stare at him while making a chocolate latté, wondering why he’s always so busy typing … It’s like he never does anything else. Type and drink coffee for hours on end. And then he disappears.
At times, I catch him staring at me, but I can never keep my eyes on him. I’m too embarrassed, too shy to even remotely acknowledge the fact that he may be here because of me.
It’s never occurred to me that anyone would go to that length just to see me.
I’m an ordinary girl, doing an ordinary job.
And that man … he is something else entirely.
On only two occasions did he come in with a book instead of a laptop. Both of them were about writing subjects and how to improve your plotting and writing style. I know because I squinted hard enough to see the title.
I’m that obsessed with finding out more about him.
I wonder what he writes. If it’s something I could read one day. If it’s something I’ve already read and never knew. If he’s someone I should know.
“Why don’t you go talk with him?” my coworker Jasmin asks.
“Shhh.” I shove her with my elbow. “Not so loud.”
“Afraid he’ll hear you’re just as interested in him?” She sticks out her tongue coyly when I give her a look.
“I’m working!” I hiss between my teeth, trying not to let anyone hear.
“With half a brain, yeah.” Jasmin grins and chuckles a little when she sees the blush on my face. “Oh, c’mon. We all know you’re swooning.”
“What? He’s just … good looking. That’s all.”
“No, you like the silent types.” She winks. “The emotional, gooey, shy types.”
I roll my eyes. “He’s not like that.”
“Yes, he is. He never dares to talk to you even though you’re both waiting for it. You don’t want to admit it, but you two would be a perfect date.”
“Fine.” I squint at her to try to make her stay quiet, and she finally gets the message because she shrugs.
“Well, if you never take the leap, you’ll never find out what he’s all about.”
She walks away and serves the other customers their coffee. Meanwhile, I’m stuck at the cappuccino device, thinking about what she said. She’s right. Fantasizing never got me anywhere. It’s time I took some action.
And as the time slowly crawls by, more and more customers start to leave. Except him. He always stays until closing time, and even though he’s the one to see us close shop, we never get a chance to speak.
I’m always there … and he is too … We just never pushed past our boundaries to open our mouths and talk to each other.
And for some reason, somehow, after all the customers leave, I find the courage to go up to him. I sit down in front of him with my heart beating out of my chest, and a cup of steaming hot coffee scooted his way.
With a smile on my face, I look at him, waiting … until he raises his head and his intense blue eyes meet mine. For the very first time, we interact.
“Hi,” I say, my cheeks glowing red.
“Um … hi,” he mumbles.
His voice is perfect. Dark and delish and so soft.
I could listen to it all day, even if it was only these two words.
I push the coffee closer to him, and his hand reaches for it. Our fingers briefly touch, and a hot current flashes through me. I pull back instinctively, not knowing what to do.
“Thanks,” he says, his smile genuine. Infectious.
He brings the cup to his mouth and takes a big gulp, and I watch him swallow it. I don’t know why I’m gazing so obsessively at him. I feel like an idiot. Yet I can’t shake this feeling he’d know exactly what I meant if I’d told him.
“It’s on the house,” I say.
He smiles again and says, “What’s your name?”
“Hyun Song.”
He cocks his head and gives me his hand. “Drake Bryant.”
I grab his hand. His handshake is firm, powerful. His hand warm and one I don’t want to release. When he does, my own hand feels empty. Void of something that should’ve been there from the start.
He clears his throat and closes his laptop.
“What were you writing?” I ask.
“Oh, nothing important.”
“No, really, I wanna know,” I say.
“Just articles for the newspaper I work for. It’s a column.”
“Really? You’re a columnist?”
“Yes.” He grins. “It’s not great, but it pays the bills.”
“No, I think it’s fantastic. You can write about anything you like. And you must be really good at it. I mean you write so much when you’re here.” I clear my throat and try to pass off the awkwardness when I realize I’ve said something that outs him as an obsessive coffee shop visitor.
“It is great. That’s true,” he says.
He doesn’t seem like a man of many words, but that’s okay.
“So … your accent,” he mumbles.
“Oh, I’m Korean,” I say, blushing again.
“Your English is very good,” he says.
“Thank you,” I answer. “I do my best.”
“Oh, I know.”
He knows?
He knows.
Because he always watches me. Of course.
It’s suddenly quiet again, and neither of us knows what to say.
I hide behind my hair and pretend not to be totally flustered.
“Hey ... um … I’ve got to go.” He grabs his laptop, stuffs it in his backpack, and gets up like he suddenly has somewhere he needs to be.
And as he gets up, I do too. I don’t know why, but I feel like I ruined something, and if I let him go now … maybe it’s ruined forever.
As he starts walking toward the door, a sudden urge to stop him takes over.
“Will you be back?” I call out.
He glances at me over his shoulder and gives me a lopsided smile that makes butterflies fly in my stomach.
“Always.”
***
5.5 months before
Ever since I first had the guts to talk to him, things went uphill. He took me on numerous dates and kissed me after two weeks. I felt like I could float on air, and when he first took me back to his apartment not far from the city, we went all the way.
It wasn’t the last time, of course.
We had sex many … many times.
Like now, when we’re back from the restaurant, drunk on wine and love, and bumbling through the hallway because we both can’t stay on our feet. We’re wasted and laughing and having a good time, making out and fondling each other as we stumble our way to his door.
And as he turns on the lights and slams the door shut, I rip off his shirt and tear at his belt. He grins against my lips, fighting my shirt and panties equally hard to get them out of the way. His hands are all over me, and I love every inch of his skin against mine as we find our way to his bed, half-naked.
We have sex, and it is the best sex I’ve ever had.
Drake is perfect.
A man who understands me.
Who doesn’t mind that my English isn’t perfect.
Gives me what I need without asking for anything in return.
He listens to my stories about my work and my daily life without interrupting. It doesn’t matter what I tell him, as long
as I’m with him, he loves me.
There’s only one thing he doesn’t know.
One thing I couldn’t bear to see him go through.
One simple thing … a meeting … between me, a wretched man, and my parents. A plan so devious it makes me cry, even after I just had sex with the man I love so much.
“What’s wrong?” Drake asks, kissing my neck.
“Oh, it was just so intense,” I lie.
I don’t want him to worry.
At least, not for now.
I’m still safe, here in his arms. That’s all that matters right now.
Drake leans away and opens his cabinet. I don’t know what he does, but when he turns to me, he nudges me over to his side. And then he shows me the tiny box in his hand. “I wanted to do this for a while now, but I just didn’t have the guts.”
Tears roll down my cheeks as he opens the box and says, “Will you marry me?”
I can’t believe this is happening right now.
Out of all the things that could happen … this is the cruelest of them all.
“Don’t …” I shake my head.
The happy smile that was on his face disappears like a cloud hampering the sun’s rays. It kills me to see it.
“Don’t what?”
“I can’t,” I mumble, tears streaming down.
I can barely pronounce the words I want to say. It’s too much.
“Why … you don’t want to marry me?”
I grab his face and kiss him. “Yes, of course, I do.” I kiss him again.
“Then take it,” he says, pulling the ring out.
I push the ring back and close the box in his hands. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” He seems so upset, and it’s entirely my fault.
I feel so bad. Now I have to break his heart.
I never wanted him to find out … Not this way.
“I … my parents, they …”
“What did they do?” He grabs my arms and forces me to look at him.
Indecent Games Duet - Boxed Set Page 37
