Page 45 of Devour

His words and the sound of his voice breaks through the fear and haze in my brain. “You!” I growl. Without another thought, I attack. I leap forward, pouncing on him, and I don’t stop hitting.Landing blow after blow. The frustration from this entire hellish day pours through me and I let my fists rain down on him.

A large hand shoots out and grabs me by my throat. I’m stunned into submission. My body becomes putty in his hands as he guides me back against my pillow. His strong body crawls on top of me. The weight of his body pins me down against the mattress. I hate to admit that I get a thrill from it.

But I shouldn’t.

“Get off of me, now.”

To my surprise, he does. “Of course. Just tell me when you’re ready for me.”

“Wow. The audacity. What are you doing here? Get out of my house!”

He lets out a sigh. “I’m tired. I was hoping we could pick up where we left off outside your grandmother’s and then fall to sleep together. I haven’t slept as peaceful as I did with you in Vegas.”

“You call. You ask if you can come over. You don’t break into my the house!”

“What if I wanted to surprise you?” His palm gently cups my cheek, but I tilt my head away.

This is happening too fast, and I know he’s dangerous. The man is invading every aspect of my life. Forcing his way in. “Don’t you think you’ve surprised me enough for one day? Maybe you should try spacing out your bullshit instead of showing up everywhere all at once.”

He places his hand back down on the bed. After a pause he says, “I am coming on a little strong.”

“A little?”

“Yeah. I’m new to dating.”

“Nope. Not buying that excuse. You’re clearly not new to breaking and entering. You’ve obviously done your research on me. Which is evident from knowing everywhere I go, live, work– which you probably gained while following – no – stalking me! You’ve made multiple threats to poor Kane.”

“Oh poor Kane, my ass! That creep.”

“He’s the creep? Really? Mr. I’m going to mutilate his body for touching you. No. Leave.”

I can hear the smile in his voice. “You’ve realized it was me texting.”

“Out,” I grit. When he doesn’t move, I raise my voice. “You’re a stalker! You’ve been stalking me all this time. All. This. Time. You’ve violated my privacy, intruded on my life in every aspect. You’re fucking with my career, Nicholas. It’s sick. It’s disturbed. You broke into my house while I was sleeping. Leave.”

Tears are building up, but I refuse to cry in front of him. I’m not going to break down until I call the police and know that I’m safe. I’ve never trusted Nicholas Deschamps, but I never would’ve expected him to be this much of a psychopath.

“Stop.” His voice soothes. “You know you’ve let everything go on this long because you trust me. You won’t admit it, not even to yourself. You trust that I won’t hurt you. And I would never harm you or allow for anything bad to happen to you. You trust me enough to be in vulnerable situations with me. You give your body so freely to me, when we both know that’s not typical behavior for you. You can’t deny our chemistry. You barely know me yet we have more of a connection than we’ve ever felt with anyone else.”

“Seriously? Let me stop you right there. Good sex doesn’t mean soul mates.”

“Maybe, maybe not. However, it’s not just good, it’s fucking addicting. I’m obsessed with you.”

My vision blurs and a sob hiccups in my throat. He needs to leave. I’ve done nothing but fantasize about him since I left Vegas but that was pretend. This is real. He’s clearly a lunatic.This isn’t healthy behavior. Yet with all my logical and sound reasoning, my body is still attracted to him.

The room is dark, so I can’t see his face, but all my other senses are overwhelmed by his presence. His expensive cologne mixed with a pleasant smell that’s uniquely him. The warmth radiating from him. The sound of his clothes rustling and the bed dipping as he leans toward me. When he speaks, his voice sounds of lust and hunger, full of wickedly dark promises. “One kiss good night before I go?”

“I don’t make it a habit of kissing my intruders.”

“What about your clients?”

“Especially not. I’m professional.”

He inches close enough now that I can make out his masculine features. “What about lovers?”

I scoff. “Lovers?”

“Fuck buddies sounds a little crude, but okay. Considering my tongue was between your legs this morning, we’re more than acquainted and you don’t regard me as a friend…”

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