Page 33 of Savage Poet

In my mind’s eyes I saw him too. The teen who almost took my life, the man who just held another girl who could pass for the real me; the guy who tried to steal my soul once more that night in the closet. So many emotions, twisted and pulled inside melting into a kaleidoscope of confusion.

“You don’t see jack shit,” I finally spat once my head slightly cleared. His gaze was full of heat and need as it fell to my lips. It lasted only seconds before his mask was firmly back into place. He pulled me forward and I fell into his embrace, plastered against his lean, muscular frame. My eyes squeezed shut as I fought my own body’s desire for my sworn enemy. Damn hormones. They fucked up my plans to bring this devil to his knees.

The backdoor to the SUV opened from behind nudging my butt closer into his hard thighs. “Stop fighting fate, Blue.”

My chin lifted. “That’s what I’ve done my whole life.”

His eyes the color of the ocean at night searched mine looking for the pieces to my puzzle, trying to solve the push and pull between us. His hands on me felt like shackles my body didn’t want to fight but my soul couldn’t forgive his.

His head dipped, his kiss hovered seconds away. My hands pushed against his chest, but it was of no use as his lips captured mine.

He tasted of another. Her lip gloss was overly sweet. Bile rushed up with anger. I ripped my mouth from his. “I don’t do leftovers. I prefer to be the main meal.”

“Putting yourself on my menu?”

“You wish.”

He shrugged. “I’ve already sampled you anyway.”

“And yet you keep craving more.”

His eyes turned black blue. “I want to fucking devour every square inch of you.”

“Too bad,” I shrugged nonchalantly, despite my rapidly racing heart. “I’m not legal.”

His hand slid down my arm, his fingers caressed the inside of my wrist. He felt my pounding pulse and grinned wickedly. “I can still devour you, Blue. There’s more than one way to do that.”

“I’m not some high school fantasy.”

“No. No you are not. You are a fucking hurricane—my personal storm.”

“No. I’m your fucking worst nightmare.”

He threw back his head and laughed He. Fucking. Laughs. “Blue, my soul is so dark even the Grim Reaper himself shits when I cross his path.”

“What does a sadistic shit like yourself want with a seventeen-year-old anyway?”

“You know what. Go run, Blue. Run, before I decide to take everything from you tonight, just because I can.”

“Define everything? How far will you go?” I raised my brow, challenging him, wanting to know if he’s the same on the inside he was all those years ago. Part of me hopes he’s not, because a sliver of me wanted him to have changed so I could have an excuse to run my hands all over him and let his take what might have always been his to have.

His fingers stroked up my arm and circled my throat. It was a devious caress. His thumb found the hollow and pressed hard. His lips descended as he stole my breath both ways. It burned. The stealing of air. I was sucked backward in time. I felt the cool crunch of leaves under my feet as I struggled. Opening my eyes, I blinked finding him aptly staring at every expression moving over my face. Thoughts raced one by one. The first was: All my training was for nothing, because once he puts his hands on me, my mind goes back in space and time. My body is trained to fight but my mind can’t break free enough to do it.

Finally, his lips and hand lifted.

“What the fuck was that?” I gasped for air sucking down the crispness of the autumn night.

“Me doing what I do best, Blue. Devouring.”

“I don’t just want sex from you. Figure that out yet?”

Johnny cleared his throat. My head twisted, meeting his smirking grin, “Enjoying the show, creeper?”

“Immensely. Now get the fuck in the car. We have somewhere to be.” Johnny checked the expensive watch on his wrist. Roque shoved me back, pinned me to the seat but took his sweet ass time buckling me in. “I need you in one piece, Blue. Because the pleasure of breaking you apart will only belong to me.”

“You already have,” I murmured softly. But he shut the door on my slowly drifting words and rounded the car, sliding into the passenger seat.

“Holy shit.” Tati breathed, as Roque unholstered a gun from apparently his ankle and checked the clip. The sliding of the rack brought back memories of Italy… of the life I left behind but still managed to remember.

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