Page 11 of Taming the Demon

“Fuck,” Mara whispered.

For the first time in a while she craved water. Actual water.

Mara’s eyes gravitated toward the bedroom door. She knew Fitz wasn’t out there. Fitz was on the run. Wearing his ink and being with him for so long, she knew a lot about the outlaw that claimed her.

He’s on the run. He knows he’s done for. He’s not here.

Mara threw the covers off her body and realized that part of her dream was true. She wore an oversized T-shirt, given to her by Darrow. It did not have anything aboutSOFRAWon it. As far as wearing a thong right now…

She wore nothing. Literally nothing. Just a T-shirt.

Mara opened the bedroom door and snuck to the bathroom without making much noise. She looked at herself in the mirror. A voice in her head gave her an almostmotherlytalk about needing to stop mixing booze and pills. It was messing with Mara’s head. Making her fall asleep really hard and allowing intense nightmares to form and play out.

Mara cupped her hands and drank some water and then splashed water on her face. She dried her hands and face, then exited the bathroom, freezing as she looked toward the living room. Toward the couch.

I cut his fucking head off.

Even though it was just a dream, she could hear Fitz’s voice clearly in her head. Way too clearly. Biting her bottom lip, Mara carefully approached the couch. The apartment was dark but not fully dark.

Her eyes had adjusted as need be. She saw the huge figure of Darrow on the couch. There was no way he could possibly be comfortable sleeping like that. Too tall for the couch. Too big. His head on the arm of the couch, his right arm across his eyes. His right leg and foot hung way over the other side of the couch. No boots. No socks. Just his bare foot.

Mara saw how big his feet were. How long his toes were. She caught herself swallowing hard.

Oh… fuck…

Darrow’s left foot was on the floor. His sheer size too massive for a couch. He slept in jeans and a T-shirt. The T-shirt rode up his body enough to show a little skin. Hard, muscular, outlaw skin. HisSOFRAWleather cut rested on the table.

He’s alive. His head has not been cut off.

See?

It was just a dream. A nightmare.

Mara turned her head and licked her bottom lip. In her mind the walk back to the bedroom felt more like twenty miles than twenty steps. She bent her knees and leaned forward. She touched the top of the couch and began to climb on top of Darrow.

The second her body touched his, he flinched. His right arm pulled away from his face and his eyes opened. Mara looked at him, her mouth incredibly dry again.

“Nightmare,” she whispered. “Horrible nightmare…”

Without speaking, Darrow grabbed at the back of Mara’s head and neck and pulled her closer to him. He was strong.Really fucking strong.Powerful and warm and…

Mara rested her head on his chest, her body mostly on top of his. She managed to tuck herself in the spot between Darrow and couch, which really didn’t exist all that much.

His massive hand held the back of her neck and then inched down to the middle of her back. Her body shivered and she felt Darrow taking deep breaths, falling back asleep.

Mara’s eyes grew heavy too. She knew right here, like this, with Darrow, there would be no more nightmares. At least not for tonight.

She told herself to make sure she thanked Darrow in the morning for this.

Chapter Five

Not the Bullets

Was there ever such a thing as actual sleep?

Darrow couldn’t recall the last time he truly slept. His mind moved in a way that the others never could understand. The tech side of his brain constantly thinking. The outlaw side of his brain constantly focused on survival. Now to top that off, he had Mara damn near on top of him.

For a second he thought it had all been a dream. The only reason he knew it wasn’t a dream was because Mara didn’t unzip his jeans, pull out his cock, and jam it down her throat.

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