I know I should pull away but I don’t. The consequences are far from my mind as I gaze into his penetrating, blue eyes.

“Look, the clubhouse is empty. Why don’t I take you there? We could play some pool or table tennis, whatever you want. Cheer you up a bit.”

“Thanks, but I can’t.”

“Come on. I don’t bite…much.”

He winks and gives me that crooked smile and I just want to give in. But I can’t.

“No one will see you. Half the guys are working and the others are in Florida. It’ll be just you and me.”

I’m probably more afraid of that than anything else. I don’t trust myself around him.

“I’ll have you back at a decent time. I promise.”

“Gage –”

“We’re going.”

Fuck. There he goes with that commanding tone again. Why does it always eradicate any kind of will power I have? It’s like I become one of his minions just ready to do his bidding.

“You’re sure no one’s there?”

His smile widens because he knows he’s won.

“Positive. I’ll wait for you here.”

“Okay.”

I leave him on the couch and take myself to the bathroom. While in the shower, I start to think about what I’m doing. What if someone sees us? What if Lonnie finds out? I can hold my own in a fair fight, but she tends to retaliate when I’m not expecting it. We sleep in the same house, for God’s sake. I must be some kind of masochist. Why won’t he stay away from me? Why do I feel so drawn to him? I become insanely aware that I’m completely naked and there’s a sex god sitting just a few feet away. Every muscle in my lower region tightens and I groan in frustration. I hurriedly wash the soap from my skin and wrap a towel around my body. I grab a smaller one, drying my hair as I walk to my room.

I push the door and there he is, sitting on my bed. The small towel falls from my fingers. All I want to do is push him back on that bed and climb on top of him. He prowls toward me, his eyes wandering over my body hungrily, so I pull the towel tighter around me. He bends over, picks up the one on the floor, and slowly rises. I stare at his chest, accepting the towel with trembling fingers. He trails his index finger down my cheek and under my chin, lifting my face toward his. My heart begins to thump in my chest and my breathing gets ragged.

“Beautiful bird.”

He moves to stand behind me and slides my hair to the side, baring my neck. My body starts to shake like a leaf in a tornado.

“I just wanted to see where it all happened.” He leans in, whispering in my ear, “I’ve imagined it a million times. You, kneeling on your bed, making yourself come. Soon, Raven. Soon it will be my hands on your body. I’m going to fuck you so good, you won’t remember your own name.”

¡Por Dios! I squeeze my thighs together to stop the pulsing between my legs. I know the wetness I feel down there is not from my shower. He isn’t even touching me. And then he does, gently, on my arm where the bruise is.

“I’m going to find out about this. It’s better if you tell me.”

“I…”

“No one should put their hands on you…unless it’s for pleasure.”

His lips hover above my shoulder, his warm breath caressing my skin. Don’t ask me how anything warm induces a shiver, but it does – through my entire body. He gives me a feather-light kiss and I bite my lip to stifle a moan.

“Hurry, little bird. I’ll be waiting.”

Little bird. What is it with this man and nicknames? The second he walks off, I lock the door behind him. This is insane. I’m insane. That’s it. I’ve totally lost it. I move around like a robot, berating myself for what I’m about to do, but still all the way excited. As I reach for a pair of black skinny jeans, I wonder if it was subconscious or deliberate that I chose a matching set of lace bra and panties. Or that I applied lotion on every conceivable part of my body, and sprayed perfume in places I normally don’t.

Is my white and black Hello Kitty crop top too revealing? It just barely covers my breasts…and I am wearing it with low-rider jeans. It’s just a bare stomach, no big deal.  I slip on white sandals and sit before my mirror, contemplating what to do with my hair. I quickly blow-dry it and leave it down. I forego makeup and instead put some moisturizer on. When I’m finally done, I take a deep breath and head to the living room.

Here goes nothing.

CHAPTER 8 ***Raven***

He turns his head toward me as I approach, and then does a double-take. His eyes widen and travel down the length of my body slowly.

“Fuck. Me.”

I giggle as I stand before him. It’s good to know that I can affect him, too. “No, thank you.”

“No, thank you?”

He rises from the couch and steps forward until my breasts are touching his chest. And the tables have turned. Every time this man comes near me, it’s like I become an asthmatic.

“A more appropriate response would be ‘not yet’.”

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I should step back, but my body only wants to go in one direction – forward. I peek up at him and he leans in. His lips are so close to mine, I can almost taste them. Just when I think he’s going to kiss me, he moves to the side and places a soft kiss on my cheek. Disappointed doesn’t even begin to describe what I feel.

“Let’s go.”

Taking my hand, he leads me to the front door. He reaches for the doorknob and turns back to me with a frown.

“What?”

“Wear this. It’ll be better for my sanity, and your safety.”

He removes his hoodie and places it around my shoulders. I shove my hands into the sleeves, zip it up, and flip the hood. Good for me, too. Maybe no one will recognize me. I take a deep breath and his scent fills my nostrils. It’s all over the jacket. It surrounds me, closing me in like a cocoon. I wish I could bottle it and keep it under my pillow; that way, I could smell him whenever I wanted to.

“You okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I just…really like your cologne.”

“Thanks.”

I lock the door behind us and he takes my hand as we walk down the driveway. His hand is big and warm, and I can’t help the fact that I like the way mine feels in his. I lace my fingers through his and he gives them a little squeeze.

“Where’s your bike?”

“No bike tonight. My car is parked down the street.”

I look ahead and the only car I see is a black Mustang GT with red trim. “That’s yours? The Mustang?”

“Yeah.”

“That is one sexy car.”

“You think so? Watch this.”

The car starts up and Avenged Sevenfold’s “Hail to the King” breaks the silence of the night.

“I love A7X,” I tell him.

“Yeah? Me, too.”

“M. Shadows is hot.”

“Is that the only reason you like them?” he asks with a chuckle.

“No. Their music’s great.”

“Ever been to one of their concerts?”

“Nope.”

“Maybe I’ll take you sometime.”

Yeah, not happening. I get a better view of the car now that the headlights are on and so are the red neon underbody lights. I release his hand approach the vehicle, running my fingers across the custom paint job as I walk around it. In fact, everything about it is custom – black on black with red trim, even the rims. On the hood, there’s a decal of the Grim Reaper with red eyes, scythe raised, ready to strike.

“You like it?”

“I love it.”

He opens the passenger door – suicide-style – and I take in the interior. The black and red theme continues with the leather seats and red lighting. I slide inside and he closes the door. As I buckle my seatbelt, I absorb it all. His gear shift knob looks like five, twelve gauge bullets have been hammered into it. Gage, twelve gauge…I get it. The same reaper from the hood sits on the steering wheel and the headrests. I watch him as he climbs in next to me. Yes, this car fits him to a “T.” He shifts into gear and we power forward. Seems there were engine modifications, too.