Page 28 of Rawest Venom

From my peripheral, I spot dots of bright red painther freckled cheeks as she slowly turns her head to face the game again. Setting her jaw, she tosses one into the center ring like an athlete. I nod as she scrunches one side of her face at me and gives a little shrug.

“Maybe I do have a spark.”

As I toss another, tightening my mouth into a pucker so I don’t smile, it bounces out and into the middle ring. A heated competition ensues, and I enjoy every minute of watching her battle her way to beating me. By the end of the round, Jane easily wins, placing her hands on her hips and tossing her ponytail back over her shoulder. When she spins around in a victory dance, I snag the ends and tug until her neck pulls back a bit.

“Hey!” She giggles. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you girls don’t like their hair pulled?”

“Yeah. They lied.” Sliding up behind her, I place my arms around her waist and lower my mouth to her neck. “Girlslovetheir hair pulled.”

Her bosom raises toward me as she inhales quickly. Turning her head, our lips almost touch, but I straighten up and point us to the next section with a shove of my waist into her back. Probably giving her a feel of my hard cock constrained inside my jeans.

It’s darker in the room filled with racing games and booths. The neon lights dance across the blackened tile ceiling as teens and kids race around the glow on the dark carpet. Old soda stains and green moons coat the floor leading to the far corner. There’s one older racing game no one likes, except me. Leading her with a hand on the small of her back, I guide us to it.

“How many girls have you brought here, Cal?”Jane’s pert lips part into a bright smile as she slides in, fucking me with her eyes. When she sits, I take a finger and run it over her cheek before I join her in the seat next to hers.

“Two.” After placing some tokens inside, I grip the wheel. “But the first wasn’t since I was a teenager.”

Jane settles in, gaze peeled to the screen in front of her, ready to race. “And the second?”

“She’s sitting next to me.”

Three beeps from the machine blare at us to go, and I take off. Jane’s physical dexterities on the Skee-ball machine are no match for my gaming skills. Heading her off on the second curve, I easily pull ahead and gun it. She never catches up, cursing like a sailor with every turn of her steering column. I laugh like I haven’t in years with every new combination of dirty words she strings together.

“We’re going again!” she yells as soon as the game is over, turning in her seat to glare at me. My overwhelming joy changes into that odd feeling I got earlier in the evening and the smile on my face drops.

What is it? I’m not sure…but I want more.

Before she reacts, I snatch her waist and pull her onto my lap, so her thighs straddle me. Lifting my hands, I run them around her neck, letting my thumbs brush over her speckled cheeks as she quickly inhales and holds a breath. Our eyes lock onto each other’s, a million diamonds sparkling in her irises as the neon lasers dart about the room, dazzling me like I’ve found buried treasure.

Is it fear? There is some element of that there. Lust?Yes, I feel that, too. But there is also something else. The unnamed. Anonymous. And all I know is that it’sreal,and it’s true.

As I lean into her face, the skin of my cheek almost touching hers, the sound of her gathering another breath and fluttering her lashes closed gives me pause. Holding there for a moment, I decide. My mouth seeks hers like there are no longer only zeros and ones.

We’re two.

My lips plunge and make love to hers. Our tongues battle for space, for dominance, as my hand clutches the back of her head, the other gripping her ass as she grinds on me. There’s no doubt she’s gotten me where she wants me as my hardness pokes into her stomach, seeking out her core. Every movement of her mouth makes my abdomen sink in with the anticipation of a thrust. The vibrations of her moans send shock waves down my spine.

Breaking the seal to catch our breaths, my forehead rests against hers. Her hands still clutch my chest and shirt, as if I’m her rescuer. A little laugh escapes her mouth as she raises her eyes to mine, the vision of her so close, it’s like I’m looking through a fishbowl. When I lean against the seat, I brush her hair back into some semblance of order, watching my fingers as they run through the red strands.

“I have a crush on you,” I say.

With a small smile and a gleam in her eyes, she says, “Well, Mr. Von Dovish, you should know that everyone I’ve dated recently has wound up maimed and murdered.”

“I’m aware of how dangerous you are.” She laughs her fake little girlish huff. It’s off putting and irritating. “But I’m willing to take my chances. What if I beef up security around you?”

She swallows. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll have some more cameras installed around your apartment. Maybe a tracker on your phone or car?” Letting my palms gently rub down her arms, she shivers slightly under my touch, the lavender scent being replaced by some panicked pheromones. It’s tasty. Especially because it’s real.

I remember the first time I saw her about a year ago, stumbling on the sidewalk just outside West Tech. Everything about her called to me, from her flaming red locks to her delicate demeanor. She had two bags in her hands that spilled onto the pavement. Books on coding, an old laptop, knitting, and even earbuds that popped out playing Beethoven. Her shaking limbs and the terror in her eyes were delicious. When I asked if I could help, she simply burst into tears, sobbing while trying to pick everything up off the ground. It took her a few huffs before she could say she’d just been let go from her job up north. To her luck, I just happened to be looking for someone to work the front counter. So I hired her the following week, after some brief training.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t have you do all that. No, that’s too much.” Batting her lashes repeatedly, she tries her best to redirect my thoughts.

“Nonsense. I’ll keep you safe, Jane.” Snagging her hand, I pull us out of the booth. “Come on, let’s get some food, then I’ll take you home.”

For the rest of the date, she plays coy, smooth, but nervous. A perfect, innocent date. It annoys the shit out of me. I’ve got her number, and it’s back to zero. When I drop her off at her apartment, my lips press onto her pink cheek as we stand outside the glass door to her building. The night air is starting to warm toward spring and the gold awning over her entry protects us from the misting rain.

Her ponytail swishes and dazzles with the dew-covered strands before she spins and gazes at me with her big green eyes. The tip of her tongue escapes as she tucks her thick bottom lip under her top teeth for a moment before asking, “Do you want to come up?”

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