Page 5 of Deadly Desires

It’s a really good thing I don’t live in my parent’s home anymore. I turn off the rose and set it on the nightstand as I lay back and try to catch my breath. That had to be one of the best double orgasms I’ve given myself in a while. I couldn’t help but imagine Jaxon working himself on my body. That man is sin. I bet all the ladies probably do what I did—imagine Jaxon worshiping their bodies and giving themselves the best orgasms of their life. I’m halfway tempted to redownload the app and message him, but I think better of it.

I get up and make my way to my en suite bathroom where I wash my hands and my vibrator with special cleaner. I take a good look in the mirror. There is a flush to my face that hints at being freshly fucked. I peer at myself through my lashes as I hang my head down, arms braced on the sink. I’m definitely a curvy girl, with a soft belly, breasts that would surely spill over a man’s large hands, and thighs that rub together, even when I spread my feet shoulder width apart. My thighs and ass are dimpled with fat, which I usually smooth out with shape-wear. I have piercing green eyes that are actually my favorite feature because they have an inner circle of gold. I’m a brunette with full wavy hair, streaked with lowlights and highlights. Most days I do messy buns because I just have no energy to do anything else with it. I don’t look horrible, but I imagine a man like Jaxon likes his women with toned stomachs and asses and perky tits. I definitely don’t check any of those boxes.

Pushing off of the sink, I make my way back into the bedroom to my walk-in closet to grab fresh clothes. Given it’s a Sunday, I’m not getting dressy. Some gray sweat pants, black sneakers, and an oversized sweater will do just fine. I head back to the bathroom, set my clothes on the counter, and start up the shower. The room quickly fills with steam and I get in, washing away all hints of my escapade in the bedroom.

Toweling off after my shower, I quickly get dressed and go downstairs to make a coffee. Sundays are the best days to explore the downtown area and stop at the library. I used to love doing a little retail therapy and then taking my books to read at the park. Mom and Dad won’t care that I use my card linked to the family bank account a while longer. Actually, they would probably be happy to hear about me going out in the world. There is something so calming about all of these activities; they are a perfect way to end my week.

Six

Jaxon

I’m beyond frustrated. Shortly after I woke up this morning in the guest bedroom, Franklin alerted me to the fact that Melody deleted the app from her phone. It explains why I never received a message last night. What was she thinking?! Was she truly not interested in me, or is it something else? I throw my phone across the room and watch as it hits the wall, and the screen completely shatters.

“Well… now you’re going to need a new phone, bro,” Franklin states the obvious.

“Not helping, Franklin. Why would she delete the app after swiping right on me? It makes no sense!”

“I don’t know man. I don’t know how a woman’s mind works. They are mysterious creatures.”

“I’m not used to this, Franklin. You know how it is at the club every weekend. Women all but throw themselves at me. But not her. She just ran for the hills.”

“Yeah, it’s strange, I’ll give you that. Maybe lay off a bit. Who knows, maybe she’ll redownload the app when she has enough time to think it over.”

“I want you to consistently monitor her phone and her whereabouts for me. Set up an alert anytime she is somewhere other than home and relay the info to me. Is that understood?”

“You got it, bro. I’ll keep you posted.”

Franklin has no idea the lengths I will go to in order to finally grab her attention. Realizing there is nothing more to do right now, I head home, but first stop to get a new phone. I’m tempted to swing by her house, but my resolve can only go for so long. I don’t know if I would be able to keep myself from entering her house knowing her tantalizing body is just on the other side of the door.

Pulling up to my building, I turn the car down into the private garage. As I come around the bend, I lower my window and enter in the code. The gate swings open and I’m through. A few more turns and suddenly the motion activated lights are lighting up the room. A few of my most treasured vehicles are within this garage, and the one I’m most interested in right now is my Ducati Panigale V4. It’s my favorite vehicle on two wheels. She’s sleek, and matte black with red detailing. She has a top speed of 215 mph with restrictions off, not that I’ve ever gotten her up to that speed. She’s my favorite for a reason. I park and exit my BMW and make my way over to the lockers I keep over by the motorcycles. Opening the first locker, I grab out my Dainese Avro leathers and get them on. Not too many wear them out on the road, but when you have a need for speed like I do, you take precautions.

The next thing I grab is my AGV Pista Carbon helmet. She’s a sleek black with red details to match the bike. A lot of people ride without a helmet out here in California, but I’ve never been one to take that risk. My brothers and I have experienced one too many riding buddies that have met a gruesome end without their helmets.

Once I’m all decked out in my riding gear, I start up the Ducati. She purrs to life and it’s the most satisfying sound. I swing a leg over and settle into the bike. While gripping the handle bars, I flip the kickstand with my riding boot, gently release the clutch, and I’m gone.

Seven

Melody

It’s a beautiful Sunday evening. I definitely took way too long at the library. Time just completely got away from me. As I stroll back to Main Street, I take in all the twinkling lights strung from each lamp post and the cute little stores. A few people are still milling about and a couple sits close on a bench. I take a deep breath, breathing in the ocean air and the fragrance of freshly cut grass. I love this little town so much. I don’t know if I could ever leave it.

While I was in the library, I received a text from my parents asking me to come by for dinner. Wondering what they could possibly be up to, I shot off a text that I would be on my way. Dinner at their house meant I absolutely had to go home and change. Sweatpants and my oversized sweater would not pass their standards.

Pulling into my driveway, I hit the garage opener on my car’s visor to open the door. Once I have my car pulled in, I hit the button again. Grabbing my bags and my books, I make my way into my home. She’s a simple home, but I love her so much. My parents bought her for me as a graduation present when I finished high school. Over the top? Sure. But they never did anything less than what they thought I deserved.

I have always been riddled with gifts being the only child. When I received my associate’s degree, I was gifted my current car, a Mercedes S 580 Sedan. She’s black, sleek, and upgraded with all the newest gadgets and gizmos. My parents have always spoiled me, and while it makes me roll my eyes most of the time, I let them do it. Not because I’m a spoiled brat, but because I know my mother’s pregnancy with me was very difficult and she almost died. She was told she could never have children again. Hence, why I am their only child.

Dropping my bags off on the couch, I head upstairs and quickly undress. When I’m left in just my panties and my bra, I go into my walk-in closet to see what I can wear. Before I can look any further, however, my eyes catch on one of the tables that holds my jewelry. Sitting on top of the table is a pearl necklace I received from my mom, next to a white rose. My eyes dart back and forth as suddenly, the closet has too many dark corners. I tentatively move forward and inspect the pearls and the rose. I would know the pearls anywhere. But what has me frightened isn’t the pearls themselves, it’s the fact that someone put them there. I haven’t seen these pearls in over a year, since the night that changed my entire life. What do I do?! Do I call the cops? They wouldn’t believe me even if I tried. The necklace was such a small detail that I never included it in any of my recollections to the investigators.

I slowly back out of my closet, my legs shaking in fear, looking into every corner of my room. What if the person is still in the house? The only person I can think to call is Brooke. Her uncle is a cop, maybe he can dust for prints or something?

The phone rings twice before Brooke’s perky voice fills my ear, “Hey girl, what’s up?”

“Brooke, I’m sorry but I had no idea who to call. I know your uncle is a cop, I was hoping he could help.”

After explaining what happened—minus the events from a year ago—she says they are on their way over. Not trusting my walk-in closet, I head back into my room and throw on my sweatpants and sweatshirt from earlier today.

Only a few minutes have passed before I hear a knock on my front door. Jumping at the sudden sound, I move to let them in. What I wasn’t expecting is the six-foot-something, brown haired, green eyed model that’s standing in front of me. He smiles and I immediately pick my mouth up from the floor. Peeking from behind his back is Brooke, and she gives me a little wave.

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