Page 19 of Cry, Little Dove

In. My. Bed.

I lean down, pressing my nose into her silky hair. The faint scent of that sensual perfume still lingers on her skin, mixing with the sting of disinfectant and floral fabric softener from the fresh sheets. Good thing the housekeeper came by in the early morning while I was tormenting Erica in the basement.

She is the first woman in my bed in years.Nakedunder the covers at that. My cock twitches, and my anger boils over at my lack of self-control.

“Fuck!” I shout.

Erica won’t wake up from her drug-induced slumber for a while and we’re alone in the house. I can let out my frustration in peace. Living in the countryside on a 140-acre property has quite a few benefits. No immediate neighbors sticking their noses in my business is my favorite.

I jerk to a stand and pace through the room. From the bed to the armchair in the corner, along the dresser and the vanity, past the fireplace, then back again. I stop by the open window, but I can’t stand still long enough to enjoy the glittering river fork and the rich green nature sprawling all around it. Not today.

Not when all I want is to stare at Erica. Feel her. Trace the tattoo I discovered along her spine when we showered together in the motel. It’s the only one with a bit of color in it. A slender, black sword piercing a red, faceted gem shaped like a heart.

But I can’t touch her again, even if I want to so fuckin’ badly it’s tearing me apart. If I touch her now, I’m gonna lose the last shred of my damn sanity.

I’m tired as fuck from driving all night and then fucking her in the operating theater, but I can’t bring myself to sit down. Rest is out of the question. So, more pacing it is, making myself crazy to the rhythm of my boots thudding on the parquet.

To be fair, thisis alreadycrazy. Absolute madness.

I chew on my thumb. How did I fuck up so badly?

This should’ve been a normal hunt. I go on the prowl a handful of times a year, and I developed a routine. A routine I already deviated from when I masturbated over her body while she slept, but when I saw her at that vending machine, I felt like my plan was finally back on track.

I was in control again—until she tripped and stumbled right into me, all soft and pliable and warm, looking up at me with wide, emerald eyes. Watching her and touching her while she was passed out in the motel was one thing. But talking to her… damn. That was something else. I didn’t expect her to be so…

Charming? Magnetic?

Pure temptation wrapped in a tight red dress.

I kick the door to the walk-in wardrobe as I pass by.

Did she have to be that cute with her melodious voice and sweet smiles and those lil giggles? Did she have to ask about my fuckin’ dysfunctional family? And why the hell did I ramble on like an idiot?

I’d rather choke on a box of rusty nails than voluntarily talk to anybody about my parents. Even Mandy has learned to avoid the topic, and if I won’t talk to my own sister about it, why did I open up to a random stranger?

Problem is, Erica doesn’t feel like a stranger to me.

She’s easy to talk to. Easier than anybody I ever met. When our eyes locked by the vending machine, the words poured from my lips. I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from telling her everything I never told another. Every stupid dream or useless hope. Every unimportant fear.

Talking to her feels like she’s my best friend, somebody I’ve been through thick and thin with. Somebody I spentyearswith. That’s so damn illogical, it’s making my brain hurt. Worse though, that doesn’t stop me from feeling like it’s the absolute truth.

If I believed in reincarnation or shit like that, I’d think she was mine in a past life, too. At least that would explain my feverish obsession.

After my first nightly visit, I knew full well that she was trouble. I should’ve stayed away. Should’ve gotten in my car and driven away. Far away.

But instead, I let my dick do the thinking. I thought I was smarter than that, but nope. My calm combusted when she bit her lip and asked if I wanted to come back to her room. I agreed before I could form even half a rational thought.

My fingers drum a nervous beat on the window frame. I look out over the bluebonnets on the meadow and a bird hopping along the railing of the wooden footbridge across the river. Any other day, watching the deer graze in the distance and the fish jumping out of the water does the trick to soothe me, but it ain’t working now.

I’m too furious with myself.

Especially because I only have myself to blame for this complicated situation.

After Erica invited me to her room, I had another chance to get back on track with my plan when I went to my truck. I didn’t have a real reason for going there. It was an excuse to try and get my head on straight. And boy, did I have a proverbial angel and devil on my shoulders—or more like two devils. I’m surprised I didn’t wear holes in the asphalt pacing in a horny panic.

At that point, I had already decided that Iwasgonna fuck her, even though I never had sex with my victims. But I planned to do it when she was paralyzed in my basement and I had complete control. Just a bit of fun before I got to work.

And then, like a total jackass, I threw all cautious planning into the wind and walked back to her room.Withoutthe syringe.

---