Page 10 of The Devil Within

SEVEN

Olivia

Bad by Royal Deluxe

The rain is really starting to come down now. The fucking humidity better not mess up my hair. I run my hands anxiously over my soft hot pink curls to smooth them down. I spent a long time, probably too long, getting ready for tonight. I made sure to shower very thoroughly and shave from top to bottom. I am smooth and slick and ready for him should this date go well tonight. It’s been far too long since I’ve had a real nice cock spoiling my pussy. I thought I’d get laid the other night after the club but my stalker showed up and puta damper on that plan. He seems to be ruining a lot of my nights lately. Maybe that’s his plan—slowly drive me insane by spoiling all my fun.

I’m not letting him ruin tonight though. Not a fucking chance.

It took hours to do my hair and makeup. Then I tried on an unreasonable number of outfits. I decided on the tightest little black dress I could find. Thankfully, none of my clothes have had the same stains as last week. It must have been something weird with my washing machine that my landlord was able to fix when he came and checked it out.

I’m usually never this nervous for dates. Well, I also don’t usually go out on a lot of nice dates. I usually meet my partners at the tattoo shop, or one of the surrounding bars, then enjoy a few drinks and a quick fuck before never seeing them again. I mean, that is originally how I met Luke too, but there’s just something about this guy. He’s smooth, smart, and slightly uptight. I want to ruffle his feathers and ride his cock. And, for the first time in a long time, I found myself thinking about him after we hooked up. I’m terrified that I might actually really like him.

But in the back of my mind I can’t stop thinking about my masked savior—stalker, wherever the hell he is. I can’t quite figure out what to make of what happened the other night. I should have been terrified of him, he’s my literal stalker, and I’m fairly certain he knows where Celeste is. I can’t shake the feeling that this is all somehow connected. In some sort of delusional state of hopefulness, I texted Celeste earlier telling her I was going on a date with the man I met on Halloween. She’d seemed jealous when I told her about him before she ghosted me, or disappeared, or whatever the fuck is going on. I was hopeful that if this was just some big misunderstanding and she’d be jealous enough when she learned I was seeing him again that she’d finally stop ignoring me. It didn’t work. She didn’t respond.

I’ve replayed the other night in my head over and over again for the past few days, trying to figure out what it all means. I let that monster guide me as I slashed someone wide open. I literally stabbed someone and left them a bleeding mess outside a bar bathroom while my panties were soaked through thinking about my stalker.What is wrong with me?This is all so fucked up. That’s why I need tonight to go well. I need a nice night with a nice guy to take my mind off everything.

The wind whips around my exposed legs and sends a shiver through my entire body. I probably should have worn a jacket. Right as I’m debating turning around to get one, a bright red sports car comes flying down the street, stopping in front of my house.

The driver’s side door swings open and the most attractive man I have ever seen steps out. He’s tall and muscular but not in a bulky way. He’s lean but definitely looks strong enough to throw me around in the way I like. He’s dressed in black slacks and a black button down. The sleeves of the button down are rolled up, exposing his corded forearms and the expensive looking watch glimmering on his wrist. It draws the attention to his large hands. Those fucking hands. It’s probably weird as hell to be attracted to a man’s hands but I’m desperate to see how his hands feel wrapped around my throat.

A vision of being naked and pinned against the wall with his large hands wrapped around my throat flashes across my mind and I feel my pussy dampen beneath my panties. What I wouldn’t give to be able to be outside myself, watching him wrap his hands around my throat while his cock pounds into me at a punishing pace. My tight little pussy stretched around his thick length.Fuck, that’d be hot.

As Luke approaches me on my porch with an umbrella shielding him from the rain, his heated gaze devours me, leaving me squirming and clenching my thighs. He has on mirroredsunglasses so I can’t actually see his eyes but I can sense him slowly taking in all of me. The bandeau dress I’m wearing is tight and short, not completely whorish, but it shows enough that I figured it would grab his attention. I can’t help but squirm under his assessment. He’s hot, successful, and smart. He’s a real fucking catch.

“You look almost too good to take out. I’m half tempted to take you inside and skip dinner.” His voice is deeply masculine and flows like smooth smoke rolling across the warmed ground.

“I believe you promised me a nice dinner first.” I do my best to sound sultry, trying to hide just how deeply unnerved I am.

He comes to a stop at the bottom of my steps, the rain rolling in thick rivulets down the black umbrella he carries. It hides the top half of his face from me at this angle, but I can see his smirk. His tongue slides across his canines, reminding me of a predator assessing its prey.

This man is delicious. And I can’t fucking get enough of him. I’m usually a dine and dash type of girl when it comes to guys. I love a good dick but usually there’s an asshole attached to it that I eagerly run away from, but something about this man seems nice and responsible. The type of guy that I should want to date.

Holding out a hand to me, he beckons me to him. “We better get going then.”

Graciously, I allow him to guide me down the steps and walkway as he holds the umbrella above me. Who is this guy? I didn’t think actual gentlemen still existed in this world. Opening the passenger door to his flashy red Audi, he takes my hand to guide me in before rounding the car and sliding into the driver’s seat.

“Nice car,” I tell him as the loud engine purrs to life. I don’t know anything about cars other than how to use mine to get from point A to point B, but even I can tell that this car seems expensive. The smell of fine leather hangs in the air, a reminderthat this man is not your average hook up type.

“I grew up dirt poor. Like barely enough money to survive—poor. I always promised myself that when I grew up I’d make enough money to buy myself a stupid expensive car. I know it sounds silly,” he maneuvers the car effortlessly out of my neighborhood and towards downtown, “but when I bought this car, it felt like a promise I had to keep. Like I could look back and let that poor, hungry little kid know that he didn’t need to worry anymore.”

His words hit me like a freight train. Not only am I shocked that he’d be so open on a first date, but that he can talk about shitty things with such openness; not many people are that self assured. I realize I’m just sitting and staring at him as he awkwardly flicks his face back and forth between me and the road. His sunglasses still cover his eyes but I can sense the discomfort leaking out of him and tainting the vibe.

“Shit. Sorry. Maybe that was an overshare for a first date.” A slight blush creeps up under the collar of his pristine black shirt.

“No! Shit,” I stumble over my words, trying to make up for my momentary brain glitch. “I’m sorry. I’m just not used to people being so open and vulnerable.” I reach out for his free hand which is resting on the center console and lace my fingers with his, offering a reassuring squeeze. “It’s nice. I grew up with just my dad. And, he’s great, don’t get me wrong, but things weren’t always easy. I know what it’s like to just want to grow up and be able to do better.”

Bringing our intertwined hands to his lips, Luke presses a sweet kiss to my fingers. “Two broken souls looking for a brighter tomorrow, huh?”

I can’t help the smile that pulls at the corner of my lips. “Yeah, something like that I guess.”

Something about his words causes a small discomfort to curl around my core, but I’m not quite sure what it is. On the surface,his words are sweet. I’m probably just so used to dating assholes.

We zip through the rest of the drive making comfortable small talk. We talk about his job as a lawyer, about how he lives outside of town, and that he likes hunting in his free time. The last part about hunting makes me slightly uncomfortable. I’m not really a hanging dead animal heads on the walls as artwork, kind of girl. It’s the eyes I think. The black, unseeing, unblinking pits of empty darkness, freak me the fuck out. Hopefully he doesn’t have a bunch in his house.

He parks close to the restaurant and we walk side by side to the building. He doesn’t slink his fingers into mine or throw a possessive arm around me, he just walks next to me—keeping a respectable distance. It’s nice.

He brought me to a charming little Italian restaurant downtown. It seems nice but not overly pretentious and it smells fucking amazing. Pulling on the large bronzed door handle, he ushers me in with his hand on the small of my back. The touch is small but enough to send tingles skittering across my flesh.

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