Текст книги "Destroyed"

Автор книги: Pepper Winters

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

I felt alive. And annoyed and horny and frustrated.

The fight with Everest had done nothing. His fists hadn’t hurt; he’d been too easy to defeat. Arrogant bastard hadn’t lived up to his boasting and now I’d have to find another way to self-medicate with pain.

I didn’t think Zel would answer, but finally she said, “It was my foster-sister. They were my ninth foster family, and I was more like a feral cat than a little girl. For the first day, I was a novelty, same as always, same as before, but then by the third or fourth day, I was the toy that got pulled apart. Her and her brother coaxed me into the garage, saying they’d seen a kitten running around.

“I related more to animals and only the thought of having a feline friend made me follow. Once we were there, they threw me to the ground and duct-taped my legs and arms.”

She paused, unconsciously tracing the piece missing from her ear. “They used their father’s tin-snips to cut me, saying I should be tagged like a wild animal seeing as I would never be a real girl. Afterward, they left me to bleed until their father arrived home from work. Instead of rushing me to the hospital, he attempted to sew it up himself. If child services had found out his own children hurt me, he would’ve been taken off the list for carers and denied the weekly paycheque.

“Thing was, he did such a bad job, I ended up looking like I’d been mauled by a dog.” Her body tensed, morphing from victim to fighter. “That night, I ran. It was the first time I ran away. I had no money or idea where I was going, but it was the best thing that happened to me. Running, that is.”

I hadn’t noticed my fists had curled and every muscle tensed. The urge to find pain mixed with the urge to take retribution on those bastard’s children. I had no qualms about hurting minors. “How old were you?”

“Thirteen.”

My respect for her increased. Not only was she a strong woman, but she’d been a strong child, too. A bit like me in a way. I ran, but unfortunately ran in the wrong direction.

I wanted to ask about her other flaws. I needed to know every secret but I wanted to savour them—try and unravel them before learning the truth from her. And I would find the truth because she wasn’t leaving.

“Thank you for telling me.”

She raised her eyes; the green was darker, more forest than grass. “Now will you let me go?”

I smiled, forcing the scar on my cheek into a grimace. “No. I have no choice. I can’t let someone go who intrigues me this much. Who makes my cock ache this hard. I don’t even know you, yet you invoke more questions and urges than anyone before.” Shrugging, I encroached on her space, pushing her back. “I won’t let you go until I’ve had you, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

She looked at me as if I were the devil asking for her soul.

My stomach roiled with sick satisfaction. Too long I’d been the one being used. It would be nice to use someone else for change. To use her body, her mind, her soul to fix everything inside me.

Zel took a step back, eyes flashing with green embers. “You’re unhinged. Do you honestly think I want you after that? Whatever attraction I felt has flown away thanks to your caveman demands. You’re an imbecile, and I’m done. Let me go.”

I ghosted forward, heart racing with the thought of taking her against her will. You can’t do that. You know what it feels like too clearly.

Standing still, I straightened my shoulders. “How much?”

She slammed hands onto her hips glaring as if she could incinerate me with her gaze. “Are you fucking deaf? There is no price. There is no deal. I’m leaving, and you can’t stop me.” Her face tightened; her lithe body trembled. Everything about her made me want to taste.

Balling my hands, I winced at the small cuts on my knuckles from the fight. “What’s your full name?” I decided to go a different tact—confusion. Wear her down with insinuations and endless questions.

 Scowling, she exhaled heavily; anger flushed her cheeks turning her skin from cream to roses. Her eyes darted around the space—over my shoulder, at the statues, toward the stairs. Every flick of her gaze cut me off from seeing her thoughts.

Goddammit, look into my eyes. I’d never realized how much I relied on seeing into someone’s soul. It gave me clues and insights I couldn’t get otherwise.

“If you’re looking for a weapon you won’t find one, and I doubt you’re strong enough to throw a fifty kilo statue at my face.” I patted my pocket where her knife lay. “Agree to a sum and as an act of good faith, I’ll give you back your blade.”

She froze as deliberations played over her face. “Let me get this straight. You want to pay me to fuck you, even though you own a monstrosity of a mansion and could get any woman into bed if you actually learned some tact and charm.” Her perfect pouty lips quirked into half a smile. “Rather sad when I think about it. Shame I don’t sleep with men out of pity or for money or for any reason so shut up and let me leave.”

My eyes couldn’t stop looking at her condescending half smile. Mocking me. Belittling me. Half smiles were lazy. They were fake.  Either smile with your fucking soul or don’t bother.

Probably why I hadn’t smiled since I was six. My soul was dead.

I’d had enough. Anger frothed in my blood, and I needed her beneath me. No more fucking games.

“I don’t just want any woman. I want you. So stop fucking me around. Name your price and I’ll pay it.”

I may own a mansion and a tempting club, but I hadn’t shared my bed with anyone. Sure, I’d fucked before, but never had the responsibility or pleasure of sleeping beside another. To sleep with someone was the sign of ultimate trust. To be defenceless in the presence of another? No. It wasn’t an option with my past.

Zel pursed her lips, not saying a word.

“Give in. This is one business transaction I’ll win, dobycha.”

“Whatever you’re calling me. Stop it,” she snarled, her eyes lighting with green fire. “Don’t call me that.”

Her strength and blatant disregard of my request stoked my temper until my body ran hot with feral energy. I wanted this woman to fear me, yet she stood regal and taunting—untouchable.

My eyes fell to her breasts, rising and falling rapidly. “This could’ve been so simple. I’m not asking to hurt you. I’m asking to give you pleasure while taking my own and pay you a handsome sum.” I licked my lips loving the tightness in my belly and pangs in my cock. “I need to fuck you, and the more you fight the worse it gets.”

I moved forward and captured her chin, holding her tight. The intense spark between us returned like a lightning bolt, whizzing and searing, turning my fucking thoughts to mush.

Goddammit, I wanted her.

Her skin glistened, mouth parted. The angry flush faded only to be replaced with colour full of erotic need. I dropped my hand from her chin to her breast.

She froze even as her back arched, forcing more flesh into my palm. Rage battled with flaming lust in her eyes, and I forgot how to fucking breathe as I fondled her, completely consumed by the way her nipple hardened and peaked.

The argument and refusal only hiked my need. My head filled with images of how wet she’d be, how soft she’d feel, how sweet she’d taste.

I couldn’t take it anymore. “I’ll pay you one hundred thousand dollars.”

Her mouth plopped wide; she didn’t breathe.

I had a sudden psychotic urge to kiss her. Every second I spent touching her brought me back to life, wrenching me from the bones and ashes of my past. She was ambrosia, utopia—a cure.

Fuck, I couldn’t wait much longer. I’d take her over the balcony in full view of the fighters below if she refused. Closing my eyes briefly, I muttered one word but it throbbed with everything I needed. “Please…”

Zel sucked in a shaky breath, her breast still hot in my hand. “One hundred thousand dollars? To do what exactly?”

I had no idea.

Suck my cock; let me do untold things to you. Let me touch you. Fuck you.

A plan formed rapidly in my head. I could keep her for a certain amount of time. By locking her into a contract it would give me time to figure out what the fuck I was doing.

“One month. You’d stay here. With me.”

A thrill of fear shot through me at the thought of her sleeping beside me. Precautions would have to be taken, but it was doable.

Her eyes dropped to my scar, before looking away, denying me access to her thoughts.

That pissed me off. I dropped my hand, letting her breast go. “Scars aren’t contagious, dobycha.”

She shook her head. “Scars aren’t contagious, but your craziness is. What makes you think you can wave money in my face, and I’ll spread my legs for you?”

I crowded her against the glass; my hips pulsed needing to collide with hers.

“Because you feel it. If I touched you right now I’d probably find you’re wet for me. And even though I’m crazy, all I want to do is drive deep inside you—I want to worship you in my own way. I want to adore you by touching you, kissing you, biting you.” I dropped my gaze to her lips, loving the swollen pinkness, the tempting glisten. “Forget about everything but how your body feels. Do you want me? Do you want me to release your anger with my tongue?”

Her eyes met mine swimming and slightly vacant with desire. “You’re messing with my head.” She raised her hands to push me away, but I dodged her touch. “You turn me on, I won’t deny that, but I’m not staying here. I can’t.”

“You can because you need the money. I won’t be satisfied with just once. I need to know I can take you whenever I damn well want. I want to own you for thirty days with no limits.”

She wrapped arms around her body, rolling her shoulders. “Why did it have to happen this way?” She looked up to the ceiling as if she could smite fate for landing her in my path. She looked desolate, confused, and sad, so terribly sad.

My heart jerked; I ran a hand through my hair. I was right. She was like me. More than I knew.

“Life hasn’t been kind to you, has it, dobycha?” The angry dominance left my voice, edging toward soft curiosity.

Zel froze. Her teeth clenched; her sadness was replaced with coldness. “That’s none of your business. And stop calling me that.”

“Tell me your name, agree to my terms, and I’ll call you whatever you want.”

She tilted her chin upward. “Fine, if you want to know so badly. My name is Hazel Hunter, and you’re right. If you touched me now you would find I’m wet for you. Wet for the promise of what you offer, for the anticipation of what it would be like, but it doesn’t matter because one, you’re an asshole, and two, I can’t stay here for a month.”

 My cock lurched, picturing the dampness between her legs.

I didn’t like was her refusal yet again. It was getting fucking tiresome.

My stomach twisted at the thought of taming this woman. She wasn’t walking away. She would stay here a month, and I would get rid of this overwhelming obsession and go back to my sexless lonely life.

“Two hundred thousand.” My voice roughened, already imagining her naked to feast on. “I’ll give you two hundred thousand for one month of pure access. I want to buy your obedience, your body, your mind. But most of all I want to buy your secrets.”

I expected her to scream, tighten her tiny fists, and smack me in the face. Instead, everything stilled. The noises of multiple fights downstairs and the soft notes of music faded as Hazel hypnotized me by sucking on her bottom lip. Nervousness etched her face as she cocked her head. “Two hundred thousand?”

I sensed her weakening and knew I’d finally found a figure she’d sell for. “Payable in cash at the end of the month.”

Her eyes lit up as thoughts raced over her face, then faded just as fast. “You truly are desperate.”

My heart stopped. Slamming me back to reality where a perfect goddess like Hazel would never sleep with a gargoyle like me.

Fuck this. Why was I bothering? I could choose any whore to service me and not have to fight and cajole. I switched from wanting her to wanting to throw her to the ground and make her swallow her words.

Her eyes zeroed in on the jagged scar on my cheek. “I’ll tell you what I think of you, Obsidian Fox. Just because you excite some stupid part of my brain and make me want someone for the first time in years doesn’t mean you can act the scarred villain and scare me into your bed. I’m not in the business of selling my soul or fucking strangers for money, but it so happens you’re right. I do need the cash, and I’d be willing to do almost anything, but what I won’t do is put up with a vainglorious asshole. I’ve dealt with enough of them for several lifetimes.”

I never took my eyes off her. An aura of anger shimmered. Vulnerable but fierce—a potent combination for the killer inside. I wanted to break her all while letting her shine.

She laughed suddenly. “You’re insane.” Then she muttered under her breath, “I’m insane.”

My stomach twisted as she locked her spine and turned the full force of her green gaze on me.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this, but try to be less of a bastard.” Her hand came out, palm facing upward ready to accept something. “Give me back my knife and ask me politely, gently. Don’t give me a reason to want to use it.”

My heart forgot how to beat, stuttering over itself. Respect braided with lust and I fell further into her trap. Somehow she’d ended up with the power, and I hated it.

Slipping a hand into my pocket, I removed the blade and held it out. My hands clenched.  She’s fucking up my life already. My body trembled with the need for pain. I needed to be on my own. I had to find relief from this horror. What was I thinking?

“You’ll stay for one month.”

She nodded, eyes latching onto her knife.

“You’ll let me fuck you however I please.”

Her body tensed but slowly she nodded.

“You’ll stop arguing and answer any question I have?”

Her gaze met mine, a flash of ire in their depths. Finally, she nodded.

I dropped the knife into her waiting palm, careful not to touch her. I doubted my self-control could handle more stimulation at that moment. I felt like I’d been to war, came out bleeding, and not entirely sure who won.

The instant the knife fell into her grip, she wrapped her fingers tight around it and hugged it to her body.

I sensed the moment she came to her conclusion. Fire lit her face and resolution strengthened her body. “You mistreat me, and I’ll make sure you’ll be dickless for the rest of your life. Treat me with respect and desire and I’ll stay.”

Brushing a strand of hair curling around her cheek, she murmured, “I accept your offer, Obsidian Fox. Don’t make me regret it.”

5

Hazel

My favourite saying was: the beauty in this world was hidden by filth and lies while evil was painted in beauty and smiles.

It had become a testament I lived by. A rule I never broke. Because I no longer trusted beauty and smiles. I learned the hard way.

I learned to scratch the surface and search for truth and realness, all the while protecting myself in lies.

But then a man, who was neither beautiful or a liar, made a proposition. With fear and stupidity, I sold myself to him. Sold myself to a fighter who could sense my lies as easily as a fox senses a rabbit.

I regretted it.

I revelled in it.

It destroyed me.

* * *

A second after I sold myself, a rush of horror smothered my heart.

What the hell am I doing?

I regretted it instantly, but I’d told Fox the truth. I would do anything for money, as money had the power to save Clara. She was the only thing worth fighting for. The only thing that would make me do such horrendous things.

If it meant she’d live another day, a month, a year—I would sell myself to countless men or work in a mine or even deal drugs out of my tiny apartment.

I sold my dignity. My body. My very fucking soul for money. All because I had no other way. No other assets, no hope apart from trading myself like some possession at a garage sale.

But with horror came relief. Half an hour ago I had no hope, but now I had two hundred thousand wishes to find a way out of heartbreak.

Fox stood tall, watching me warily. He seemed as shocked as I was with what happened between us. I hadn’t lied when I said he could’ve had me for free. If he’d been cordial and kind—I would’ve willingly gone on a date and even slept with him.

He’s an asshole but you like his arrogance, his iron-will, and demands.

I wanted to scrub my brain from such stomach-churning thoughts. I wasn’t a woman who bowed to the wills of men. I was a woman who shoved them down and trod all over them, leaving them in my dust. But Fox…he was angry but damaged. Scary but lonely. Demanding but requesting.

I couldn’t make sense of him at all. And that made me nervous. How would I know he would pay?

How will you stay for a month?

I gritted my teeth. That was one part of the bargain I would break. I wouldn’t stay for the month. I would sneak out and see Clara. I would find a way to see my sick daughter because I could never live with myself if she thought I’d abandoned her. And I wouldn’t put up with such stupid demands to keep me prisoner. A revision of the terms would be addressed, but not yet. Not until I gave him a little, so I could take a lot.

Cocking my head, I asked, “How can I be sure you’ll pay?”

His hands clenched as a burst of energy filtered through him. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his white-grey eyes. “I’ll pay. I promise.”

“You promised I couldn’t hurt you, but I did. Like I said, don’t make promises you can’t keep.” My eyes fell to his torn shirt, searching for the small cut I’d delivered.

“Alright, I see trust is a big issue for you. Just like I gave you back your knife in good faith, I’ll pay you half up front.” He raised an eyebrow. “Does that settle your nerves?”

Holding my head high, I said, “Yes, that would be appreciated.” The moment I had the cash I would take it home to Clara. As tempting as it would be to break the rest of the contract, I wouldn’t. I gave him my word.

My stomach fluttered at the thought of him touching me, thrusting deep inside. The money was for Clara, but the sex—I wanted that for me. I wanted to see what people wrote sonnets about. If the sparks between Fox and me were any indication, when he finally took me it would be worth the mild discomfort of accepting his money for a service rendered.

Fox came closer and I steeled myself against his overbearing presence. His scent of smoke and metal surrounded me, playing havoc with my thoughts. My knickers were damp from fighting with him, and my nipple still tingled where he’d cupped my breast.

His hand landed on my hip. A thumb circled my pronounced hipbone beneath the gossamer material of my dress. If I thought an innocuous touch on my wrist resonated with connection it was nothing, nothing, compared to the burst of hotness, the euphoria of his fingers stroking my tender flesh.

“I can’t wait to see you naked, dobycha.” His head bowed to run a nose through my styled hair. “I want your hair loose so I can hold it while I take you from behind.”

My core melted, my heart thrummed. I had nothing to retaliate with.

His gaze fell to my lips. “Don’t move.” Time slowed as his hand came up and cupped my braless breast again. “Tell me what you like so I can make this good for you, too.”

I shuddered as he brushed a thumb over the highly sensitive nipple. I swayed forward, willingly giving him access. “I like that.” A strange kind of peace settled over me. Gone was the embarrassment at selling myself. I would get more than just money from this. I would unlock hidden desires I never knew existed. I’d done the right thing and fate hadn’t forgotten about me—it had listened to my screams for help. It had given me Obsidian Fox.

His grip suddenly went from caressing to possessing, and I bit my lip, swallowing back a moan.

He sucked in a heavy breath, pinching my nipple with strong fingers almost as if testing himself, pushing boundaries I didn’t understand. “Do you like that?”

My head was suddenly too heavy for my neck; my body too floppy to stand. I wanted to press against him, encourage more of the aliveness to filter.

.My cheeks heated at the thought of admitting I liked it rougher, but then I embraced the fighter he brought out in me and looked up through my eyelashes. “Yes. I like that.”

“As much as you fight, you like to be controlled.” His head dropped and the tips of his shaggy bronze hair touched mine. “I can’t wait to find out what else you enjoy.”

My stomach clenched, sending thrills of fear and need into my core. Shit. He did have a gift. Yes, he could sense things only a highly in-tune person could know, but he also had a power over me. His unnerving presence made me forget everything but him. He took over my world. He was an eclipse.

Dropping his hand, he murmured, “Get in my office. Now.” His gaze caused the swirling lust and temper to bubble once again in my blood.

He stepped back and the low illumination glittered on the silver of his scar. It ought to make him hideous, but it only made it that much harder to ignore him.

Taking a step toward the stairs, I said quietly, “I’ll come back tomorrow. Once I’ve given my excuses and packed.”

In one insanely fast move, he barricaded the stairwell. He moved like a black ghost—silent, deadly, just as unnerving. “You’re not leaving. You agreed.”

My forehead furrowed, battling the call from his body to mine. “I agreed, yes. But not starting now. I need to go and see my—” I cut myself off.

Don’t tell him about Clara.

I found him sexually potent and secretly craved the dangerous unpredictably he presented, but I didn’t want him knowing about something so fragile and innocent.

Never.

Iciness replaced the heat he invoked. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

A sliver of worry stabbed my heart. What if I left and he had second thoughts? What if he followed me home and found out I had a dying daughter? Buying a woman for sex was one thing, but it was an entirely different matter buying a mother.

Now the cash was in my reach, I wouldn’t give it up.

Fox shook his head, advancing toward me. My heart stuttered with his every step. “You’re not leaving until the month is up. Deal’s a deal.” He pushed me backward, not touching, just manhandling me by his sheer will. “I told you I wanted you. And I’m going to take you tonight. You’re nuts to think you can leave here without letting me sample what I’ve bought—especially after you made me work so hard to earn it.”

A trace of chocolate and smoky metal surrounded me—his scent was a contradiction. He wore authority like one would wear an aftershave—reeking of anger and power.

He’d already won the argument, but I loved the thrill of fighting with him. It made my dampness turn to wetness. It turned warmth to hot. It made me crave him. “You can’t expect me to stay here with no preparation. I have to arrange everything. I have to change my clothing. I need a toothbrush for heaven’s sake.”

He smiled, the scar on his cheek twitching a little. “I have a spare toothbrush that I’ll give you. As for clothes, what makes you think you’ll be wearing any? You said you’d give me a month. I didn’t say where you’d spend that month.”

My heart shot out of my chest and exploded through the ceiling. I wanted to squeeze my legs together at the indecent desire he conjured in my veins. But then images of being chained in some torture chamber bombarded my mind. Bondage and pain and submission. I was better than that. I wasn’t a submissive. I was his equal, and I wouldn’t—couldn’t—let someone abuse me.

I wanted him. But I wouldn’t give up my rights as a human being. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not agreeing to any torture, or pain-play. I’ll let you take me, and I’ll let you decide what I wear, but I will not let you bind me or hit me.” My breathing quickened in a mixture of lust and terror.

Fox slammed to a stop. His large shoulders rolled and he looked as if I’d said something blasphemous. “You have my word I won’t use whips or any other equipment on you. Unless you change your mind.” His face twisted with some strange afterthought. “However, bondage will have to be addressed.”

“What? No. That wasn’t agreed—”

 “Agreed or not you gave me your word. You’re bound now.” The way he spoke resonated with past emotion. As if he’d learned that the hard way. A contract was a contract. And in this case, unbreakable.

“I promise I won’t hurt you. Stop pissing me off by doubting me.” His eyes narrowed, delving deep into mine as if he could expose every lie I’d ever spun. I’d shocked myself when I told the truth about my ear. I hadn’t told anyone. But I had no choice. A man like Fox could smell a fib like a pheromone. He would’ve known.

Oh, God. That was another thing I’d suffer—not having the protectiveness of my lies. I couldn’t mask my sadness through fakery; I wouldn’t be able to gloss over the truth.

Sounds of flesh hitting flesh and grunts of violence rung in my ears from down below as a fight reached a pinnacle moment. The burst of noise stole me from the small world I’d existed in with Fox and reminded me he owned a place of fighting and encouraged blood to flow. If he loved to hurt others, how could I trust that he wouldn’t hurt me?

Regret and worry swarmed in my skull like angry hornets. There was no way out of this deal and no way I wouldn’t be stung.

 Fox kept a careful eye on me and moved toward the wall to his right. He stepped elegantly through the shadows as if he was a shadow himself. Punching in a code on a keypad lock, he swung open a door I hadn’t seen, camouflaged by the black décor. Inclining his chin, he said, “Now that’s cleared up, shall we?”

The stairs were open and beckoning. I could run and forget tonight ever happened. But I’d never get an offer like this again. I’d always wonder just how alive he could make me—just how fierce he would make me become.

This was my only chance to help Clara—unless I wanted to rob a bank, or came up with some equally reckless notion.

Gritting my teeth, I stalked into his office with all the bearing I could muster. Fox didn’t move and his body heat scorched all my reservations to ash. My skin tingled as a slow curl of attraction rose. My nipple throbbed remembering his touch.

It’s been too long.

So long since I’d been touched and cherished. I shook my head. I was spinning lies—I’d never been cherished or adored. I’d been used and thrown away. I’d been shown the illusion of being desired for a very brief moment only to learn a valuable lesson: nothing was sacred, least of all my virginity.

Fox locked the door behind him and came toward me. I locked my knees together so I wasn’t tempted to step away. That would be a weakness, and I wasn’t weak. It also stopped me from doing something dangerous like demanding he touch me again.

He moved like a master—a man who knew how to fight and wasn’t afraid of forcing another to do his bidding.

What would he say if I told him I was a mother? Would he despise that I pretended to be a sexual creature, but really was practically a virgin? One prick to take away the title of inexperienced, and one prick to land me with Clara. Hardly counted as life-altering.

I captured my bottom lip between my teeth. I finally let myself be truthful. I was hungry. Really hungry for something true. A connection; a sexual awakening. My body wanted Fox while my mind wanted to fight him on every subject. The combination threatened to create an addiction that not even money could break.

“You’ve gone whiter than normal.” Fox leaned closer, nostrils flaring as if he could taste my panic. His eyes dropped to my throat. “Your heart is pumping wild, and your scent is stronger.” With a tentative hand, he brushed away the loose curls resting over my shoulder. The whisper of his skin against mine had me battling lust-heavy eyes, fighting the overpowering need. “What’s wrong?”

It didn’t matter if I was inexperienced. Sex was primal, instinctual, animalistic. I felt like a world-class courtesan. A woman who’d seduced men and been seduced in turn.

Fox was every erotic fantasy I ever entertained. And he’s paying to fuck you.

The thought should’ve turned me off, but it made me wetter.

Sucking in a breath, I whispered, “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

Fox cocked his head, frowning. “Remember, I can smell lies.”

I met his gaze—the icy grey made me feel as if I stood in a hurling snowstorm.

The more we stared, the more my body heated, the more I wanted. Until coming to this cursed club, I’d been satisfied. I didn’t crave a man, or need a pleasurable release. I had too many things consuming me without the complication of romance. But the moment I set eyes on Fox, I knew he was different. He was a man I could lust after.

It wasn’t his looks, or skill in the ring, that drew me. It wasn’t his scar or element of ruthlessness.

It was everything.

Obsidian Fox was so much male it was terrifying. Not only handsome, he wore his flaws for the world to see and offered no apology.

Breaking eye contact, I glanced around his office. The only light came from small LED strips highlighting more metal sculptures and artwork. I’d joked about his office being a dungeon, but it was close to the truth. Black painted walls, carpet, furniture, even light fixtures.

All black.

A large graffiti artwork of a fox, hunting under the glint of the moon, graced one wall.

Peering closer, I noticed a nasty scar deforming one side of the fox’s face, just like its owner. He seemed to love symbolism. Either that or he took himself way too seriously.

Fox inched nearer until the hairs on my arm stood up. Being so close made me yearn for his touch and fear it at the same time

I stifled a shiver as Fox stopped beside me, staring at the same graffiti. From this angle, his left profile was untouched. Smooth cheeks, smooth neck, angry desolate grey-white eyes. He held himself tight and alert. Primal, untamed, yet so disciplined and remote.

 “Admiring Oscar’s handiwork?”

Oscar. The blond idiot who spoke about me like I was hooker trash. I bristled, hating that the douchebag had talent. Every feather and sweep from whatever method he’d used spoke of a true artisan.

“It’s good,” I muttered. “Talented.” I glanced at Fox. He looked wild as if he didn’t belong in manmade rooms—they were cages, no matter how he decorated.