Brutal Discoveries (7 page)

Oh. My. God.
Ovary explosion.

My mouth fell open and I watched in sheer entrancement.  Then he smirked at me.  “Delicious,” he whispered before his head slanted and his lips descended on mine.

“I really like being adventurous with you, Aden West,” I said through a grin when he pulled back from our kiss.

“Baby, you ain’t seen nothing yet,” he promised on a grin.

We kissed again, and then I fixed the buttons on my pants before he held me in his arms for a little while longer.  I couldn’t explain the utter contentment and safety I felt, being held securely in his massive frame.  It wasn’t until I yawned unceremoniously that he chuckled and kissed the top of my head.

“I better let you get home,” he murmured.  “Where’s your car parked?”

“Oh, I walk to and from work each day,” I explained. 

“You walk?”  His tone was deceptively quiet and he clenched his jaw.

“Well, uh, yeah.  It’s my exercise, since I eat so much cookie dough and frosting each day,” I admitted on a light giggle.  “If I didn’t, my ass would be the size of Hawaii.”

“You know it’s dangerous for a woman to be walking the streets after dark?”

“Aden,” I started, my tone placating.  “I’ve been walking to work since I opened Sweet Treats six years ago,” I defended.  “I’ve never had a single ounce of trouble.”

“Babe,” he sighed. 

“What?” I snapped. 

“You’re not walking home on my watch.”

“I’ll be fine, Aden.”

“Get your shit.  Let’s go,” he ordered.

“Pardon?”

“I’m driving you home.  Get your shit,” he demanded, leaning in to me.  The serious look on his face commanded no argument, so I narrowed my eyes at him and pursed my lips together.  Then I went and got my handbag.  Damn arrogant male.  I marched toward the doors and let myself out before locking it after he exited.  He took my hand and walked us to his Camaro before bleeping the locks and holding the door open for me.  Before I climbed inside, he stopped me short and leaned in to touch his lips against mine.

“Just want you safe, baby,” he whispered sweetly.  If only he had said it that way in the first place, I wouldn’t be in a snit.  He brushed his lips on mine again and when my face had relaxed enough for him to know I wasn’t in a mood anymore, he let me get in the car.

Aden held my hand on my thigh on the drive home, his thumb, the same one that had brought me such bliss earlier in the evening, stroked my hand idly, providing a different kind of pleasure.  The comforting kind.  When he parked the car at the curb outside my townhouse, he walked me to my door and kissed me deeply for a long time.  Then he touched his finger to my nose, and waited until I let myself inside and locked the door behind me before he made his way back down the path to his car and drove off. 

After he left, I showered and climbed into bed, just knowing I would be dreaming of Aden when I finally found sleep.  It came, eventually, and when it did, I dreamed the sweetest dreams, all involving Hashtag Hottie.

DAMON

There wasn’t a lot in Damon Salt’s life that had made him smile.  So when he found a smile pulling at his lips as he watched the pretty blonde waitress laughing with customers in the rundown diner off Highway 92, he knew she was special.  By that time, Damon was twenty-one years old, and had crossed three state lines.  He had murdered fifteen women, and had stolen thousands of dollars in cash and valuables.  The thrill of the hunt, the exhilaration of the rape, the anticipation of the fight instinct in the women.  The ecstasy and relief he felt as he watched the life drain from their terrified eyes as he pictured his pathetic parents in the innocent woman’s place.  It was all-consuming, constantly at the front of his mind.

“Need a refill?” the waitress asked as she smiled down at Damon.  Her pretty blonde hair was pulled back in a band, off her face, and she wore a light pink and white dress that hit just above her knee. Damon nodded once and she filled his mug with hot black coffee.

“What’s your name?” he asked gruffly.

“Sandy,” she replied.  Even the soft, musical lilt to her voice had a calming effect on him.  He found himself wanting to be around her constantly.  Since she was working, Damon had to settle for watching her.  He stayed at that table in that diner for hours, ordering food, then eating it, taking advantage of the free coffee refills, and browsing the newspaper on the table, until she finally finished her shift.  When Sandy left the diner and started walking across the parking lot, Damon followed her, his eyes glued to the hypnotic beat of her white sneakers crunching on the gravel as she walked. 

“Sandy,” he called.  She turned around, a look of uncertainty pulled her brows together until she recognized Damon from the diner, and then she smiled big. 

“Hey, what’s up?” she asked, likely assuming he had wanted to speak to her in relation to her job.

“I’m Damon,” he said.  He felt nervous and he shifted on his feet. 

“Hey, Damon,” she said easily through that broad smile of hers that lit up her entire face.

“Are you busy now?  You got somewhere to be?”

“Not really.”  She shrugged.  Damon extended his hand to her, and without hesitation, she placed her palm in his.  From that moment on, they were an item.  Sandy was nineteen and lived in a trailer with her mother not far from the diner, and Damon soon started spending most nights with her.  Her mother was a bartender who worked most nights, slept during the day, and thought her weed addiction was her best kept secret.  Sandy worked twelve-hour shifts at the diner, alternating between morning and nights.  On the nights Sandy was working, Damon scoped the streets, feeding the internal desire that lingered beneath his skin.  Even though he had fucked Sandy, there was still the unbridled ache in his system for the hunt.  The rape.  The kill.  He tried to swallow the feeling, discard it.  But he couldn’t. 

The more Damon tried to fight it, the stronger the urge became.  Until one night, Damon could no longer resist.  Sandy was working at the diner, her mother was working at the bar, and Damon was stealthily sneaking through the dark streets on the upper end of town.  There was one in particular that Damon couldn’t stay away from, and he watched through the windows every night for over a week.  He knew the woman inside lived alone.  She had shiny black hair, Japanese features, and wore nice, expensive-looking clothes.  When she stepped outside to put a bag in the trash, Damon launched his attack, catching her off guard from behind and clamping his hand over her mouth to muffle her cries.  He pushed her inside and locked the door behind them.  An hour later, he was washing her blood off his hands.  Then he walked out of the house with the loot he had collected.

Later that night, adrenaline from the kill still pumping through his veins, Damon couldn’t wait for Sandy to get off work.  Rather than wait at the trailer for her, he sat in the parking lot at the diner, and when she finished her shift, he caught her by the arm and led her into a secluded place.  He pushed her against the wall and began ravishing her body.  She moaned and cried out his name as he fucked her ferociously.  After they were done, they walked back to the trailer and Sandy curled into Damon’s side, snoring softly.  Damon fell asleep while cataloguing every moment of his time with the Japanese woman. 

***

The feelings Damon had for Sandy deepened every day, and even though his desire to rape his victims began to diminish, the need to kill didn’t.  Each time he drove the knife into a woman, it sated and placated the greedy monster in his gut that sought revenge against his parents.  Damon didn’t want to resort to killing over and over in the town where he lived with Sandy, so he took week-long trips every few months, hitching rides with truck drivers so he could satiate the need inside.  Sandy questioned him, but he lied and said he was working casual jobs to make money.  He pacified her by feeding her dreams of moving into their own home.  By the time they had been together for almost a year, Damon was practically living with Sandy and her mom.  Sandy often asked if she could meet Damon’s friends, or visit where he stayed when he wasn’t at their trailer, but he always denied her requests.  When he wasn’t at the trailer, he was sleeping in the thick debris of a vacant field a few miles from the trailer park.  Damon had constructed a makeshift hideout so deep in the bushes, it was impossible to see from the outside.  Inside, he hid the valuables he had stolen, but he always kept the cash on him. 

“Damon, I need to talk to you,” Sandy said quietly.  She was usually so carefree, her nervous tone concerned him. 

“What is it?”

“Can we sit?”  He nodded his head and walked with her to the small three-piece outdoor setting in the shade by the trailer.

“Go ahead, Sandy,” he coaxed.  She sat across from him, wringing her hands together in her lap, her eyes planted firmly on the patchy grass beneath them.

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted.

“What the
fuck
, Sandy?” Damon roared.  He couldn’t father a child.  He wasn’t the right type of person to raise a child, to be in a child’s life, to be responsible for another human being.

“Damon, please calm down,” she begged as tears filled her eyes and spilled over, running down her cheeks in desolate streams. 

“We can’t have a baby, Sandy.  Jesus Christ!” he exploded.  He stood and flipped the small round table, sending it bouncing across the lawn before he turned his attention to the trailer and slammed his fist into the side of it.

“Damon, please!” Sandy cried harder, sobbing into her hands.

“We live in a
goddamned
trailer with your fucking drug addict mother, Sandy!  How the fuck are we supposed to add a kid into this already cramped piece of shit?”

“It wasn’t like I planned it,” she wailed.  “It just happened.”  She walked to him and rested her head on his tense shoulders.  “We can get our own place, baby.  Start a family, and have a beautiful life,” she pleaded.

From the corners of his mind, Damon felt the urge to kill creeping in.  Suddenly, he didn’t care about the baby, he just needed to take his frustrations out on someone.

“I’ve got to get out of here,” he snapped as he walked away.  Sandy called his name over and over, but Damon didn’t look back.  The rage he felt made his hands shake and he knew there was only one thing that would soothe him.  He stopped by his hideout first, collecting his duffel bag and knife, then he prowled across town on a mission.  He didn’t care that it was broad daylight.  He didn’t care that people could see him.  He found a house and staked it out.  After realizing both a man and woman were inside, he found another one.  Through the window he could see the elderly lady dishing out food for the cat that was curling around her ankles.  Damon didn’t waste any time.  He checked the door and was surprised to find it unlocked.  He entered quietly and rounded the corner into the kitchen to see the woman bent over, her back to him, placing the cat dish on the floor.  With the surprise factor and his age both advantages, Damon easily overpowered the woman.  He didn’t bother raping her, instead, he began beating her until she was barely conscious.  With every blow, he saw his father’s face, and it made him hit harder and harder.  When the woman was lying in a heap on the floor, he took his knife from his bag and straddled her hips before plunging the knife deep into her neck.  A sense of pride consumed him as he watched her blood spurt out.  He wished it was his mother’s life spilling all over the tiled kitchen floor.  When he thought about the baby Sandy was carrying, he took his anger out on the woman, stabbing her over and over again until her entire chest was a bloody, mutilated mess. 

He was panting when he was done.  He washed up, changed into the spare set of clothes he kept in his duffel bag, and raided her house, collecting diamond jewelry and a small lockable case that he suspected held valuables.  Under her mattress in her bedroom he found a wad of cash, so he pocketed that, too, and left as quietly as he had entered, feeling slightly better about the situation waiting for him back at the trailer.

SCARLETT

I looked at the man sitting across from me.  I mean
really
looked at him.  His face was weathered, deep lines and wrinkles sunk into his skin across his forehead near his eyes, around his mouth, and down his neck.  His hair was oily and greying.  He wore his prison-issued orange jumpsuit, and sat slouched in the chair across from me.  His eyes were a calculating blue that could easily morph into evil with a single mood change.  Right now those eyes were pinned on me, assessing my reaction to the journal entry he had just read aloud.  Seeing him like this, a middle-aged man in prison, it was hard to picture him as the young, cold-hearted killer he was imprisoned for being.

“You said having Sandy in your life somewhat curbed your desire to rape.  Did knowing you would be having a child make you want to find a way to overcome your urges altogether?” I asked, genuinely interested in his answer.

“Yes and no,” he replied gruffly.  “I wanted the kid to have a better life than the one I’d had, but I still needed to make them pay.”

“Make who pay? Your parents?”

He nodded once.

I found it intriguing that this man deeply wanted to punish two people who were already dead.  I wondered if he’d had the chance to kill his parents, would that have been enough for him?  Or had he always been destined to live his life as a serial criminal?  I would never know the answer, but I found the entire situation interesting nonetheless. 

“Did Sandy have the baby?” I asked, right as the guard’s voice came over the loudspeaker, announcing the end of visiting hours.

“Guess you’ll have to wait until next time.”  He gave me a small, lopsided grin before picking up one of the cupcakes I had brought him and taking a huge bite.  The mocha frosting stuck in his beard and I shook my head and smiled as I walked away.

***

Aden had come off a nightshift at six that morning, so he had gone back to his loft to take a nap, and was coming by my house that night for dinner.  I decided to make spaghetti and a delicious dessert.  Besides the occasional sneaky make-out session in my office, or the sly grins as he stood in line to be served at Sweet Treats, we hadn’t spent a lot of time together in the past week or so because we had both been so busy working.  The prison was understaffed so Aden had picked up extra shifts, and the bakery was busier than ever, which meant I was run off my feet.  I had decided to employ another full time staff member, and as soon as I had the time, I was going to sit down and write out the ad. Pushing work stuff to the back of my mind, I slipped on my apron and began preparing the spaghetti.

I had just slid the peach pie into the oven when I heard the light knock at my door.  I looked down to see my apron was covered in red sauce and I debated quickly changing, but the knock on the door came again. Louder that time.  I sighed and swept my hair from my face as I made my way across to open it.

“Hey,” I said through a smile as I looked up to see Aden standing before me, a bunch of lilac roses in his grasp.

“Hey, yourself.” He grinned.

“Come on in.  Are those for me?” I asked giddily as I stepped aside to let him through.

“Nah, I was planning on giving them to the neighbor next door.”

“Funny,” I muttered sarcastically.  He handed me the flowers and I breathed them in.  “They smell beautiful.  Thank you.”  I went up on my toes and touched my lips to his.  “You’re very thoughtful,” I murmured and my lips moved against his as I spoke.

He deepened the kiss, holding my body close to his, sliding his tongue into my mouth and passionately stealing my breath from me.  I held one arm free of our bodies so the roses didn’t get crushed, but I wrapped my other arm tight around his neck, letting my fingers roam through his cropped hair of their own free will.  Both of his hands gripped my ass through my jeans.  I momentarily panicked that he would get a red sauce stain on his shirt but then he sucked my tongue into his mouth and all of my thoughts dissipated. 

When I begrudgingly tore my mouth from his, it was only so I could draw in some much needed oxygen.  Once I had regained my breathing, I stepped back and looked for a vase for the flowers.

“Would you like a drink?  I’ve got beer, wine, pop, water…”

“Beer.  Thanks, baby.”

“Dinner won’t be too much longer,” I informed him as I passed him a beer and poured myself a glass of wine.  “You want to sit outside with me?”

“Sounds good to me.”  On our way through the house, I gave him a quick tour after realizing he hadn’t actually been inside my home before.

On my small back deck were two Adirondack chairs separated by a small wooden table where I usually set my wine while I was busy reading. I pulled my feet up to rest on the edge of the chair and looked across at Aden, whose eyes were admiring the gorgeous view of the city-maintained gardens that neighbored my property.

“Nice place, babe,” he complimented.

“Thanks. I love it.” 

“Next time we’ll have to meet at my loft.  Give you a tour,” he offered, waggling his brows suggestively.  I giggled and sipped my wine, delighted that he wanted me in his space.  We chatted about our day as we finished off our drinks, and when he accepted my offer of a refill, I went inside and fixed myself another glass of wine before grabbing a beer from the fridge for him.  I quickly checked on dinner and the pie in the oven before making my way back out to the deck.

“So, tell me about your friend, the one who usually comes into Sweet Treats with you,” I mentioned.

“Will?  He works at the prison and lives not far from me. He’s a good friend.  Does he have a nickname, too?” he teases.

“Actually.” I blush.  He scowls in my direction before I clarify.  “Not from me.  Ella calls him Hashtag Dreamy.  But, he doesn’t give her the time of day, and didn’t take her up on accepting her number, so she’s come to the conclusion he’s gay.”

He spurts his drink as he bursts into laughter at my revelation. “Gay?” he wheezes.

“Well, she’s hot, and he wasn’t interested.”  I shrugged.  “I tried to reason with her that he could be in a relationship, but she won’t have it.”

“That’s funny.  I’m going to give him so much shit,” he muttered.

“No!” I blurt.  “You can’t say anything.  Ella will
kill
me.”

“Babe, relax,” he soothed me.  “Gay,” he repeated again to himself through an amused chuckle.

“So, uh,
is
he gay, or in a relationship?” I asked, figuring if Ella was going to wring my neck, at least I could find out some inside gossip to mollify her with.

Aden shook his head.  “Nope to both.”

Hmm.  That’s interesting.
  “He’s just not interested, then?” I pressed.

“Don’t think that’s the case, sweetheart, but it’s not our business.”

“You’re right,” I conceded. 

We moved inside for dinner, followed by dessert, and I swore I ate so much my stomach felt like it was going to explode.  I had finished off my third glass of wine with dinner, so I had a nice little buzz going on.  After I rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, Aden pulled me down into his lap and kissed me.  It was soft and sweet, yet electrifying and heated.  Soon, my entire body was pulsing with need for him.  I squirmed in his lap and felt the thick, hard ridge of his erection pressing against me, so I wriggled some more, which elicited an erotic growl from deep in his throat.

Unable to endure that form of carnal torture any longer, I stood and took his hands in mine.

“Bedroom,” I whispered boldly.

“You sure?” he asked, and his gravelly voice skated over my skin.

I looked at him through my hooded eyes and nodded my head.  Then he stood and let me lead him toward me bedroom.  Once we reached the door, he spun me around and kissed me passionately.  With his lips still melded with mine, he lifted me up effortlessly and my legs instinctively wrapped around his waist.  My eyes were closed and my mouth danced with his as he walked to the bed and laid me down before coming down on top of me.  I was in a hurry.  I needed him inside of me.  I wanted it so badly I couldn’t think of anything else.  I clawed at his shirt, desperate to rid him of it.  His hands went to my shirt and he tugged it up over my head with little resistance, then he put both hands behind his neck and removed his shirt.  I gasped when his broad, muscular chest met my eyes for the first time.  His skin was tanned, his chest peppered with a light splattering of dark, curly hair.  Down further, the ridges of his abdominal muscles were evident and I traced my fingers along them softly until I discovered the trail of black hair that disappeared beneath his jeans.

“Sit up for me, sweetheart,” he commanded. When I followed his instruction, he reached behind me and unclasped my bra, letting it fall down my arms to expose my breasts. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he whispered as he reached out to swirl one lone finger around my puckered bud.  My body shivered in delight and I reached forward to pop the button on his jeans before unzipping his fly.  I pushed the rough fabric down and his hard cock sprang free.  He was going commando.  My mouth watered and I licked my lips.  Wow, he was perfect
everywhere
.  He removed his pants until they were lying in a crumpled heap on my floor, then he made sure mine joined them moments later.  Then, we were completely exposed to each other.  My eyes found the full sleeve of tattoos he had inked down one arm, and I had an unbelievable urge to trace my tongue along every perfect line. 

“Aden,” I urged him desperately.  I
needed
him. 

“Spread your thighs, baby.”  Without a hint of mortification, I spread my legs, and I spread them
wide.
  He sucked in a sharp breath and then crawled between my thighs and ran his finger up my slit through the wetness that had gathered.  I shuddered, my body screaming out for relief.  Sensing my eagerness, he didn’t make me wait a moment longer before he leaned forward and I felt the warm softness of his tongue stroke me.  His hands went under my ass to tilt me up to him as he licked, sucked, and nibbled my pussy, inflicting the sweetest torture I had ever experienced.  I moaned his name and bucked my hips against his face.

“
Jesus
, Aden,” I breathed as he slid two thick fingers inside me while his mouth continued to work my clit. 

“Mmm, you taste so fucking good, Scarlett,” he rasped.  The vibration from his voice sent a pulse through my body and I reached down to grip his head, holding him close to me.

“Aden,” I breathed, my voice sounding like I had never heard it before.

“Let go, baby,” he encouraged.

“
Aden
.”  His name exited my mouth on a desperate plea as I locked my legs around his head and rode his face until the shudders subsided.  I relaxed my legs, freeing him, and watched as he reached down to the floor and took his wallet from his jeans pocket.  He took out a condom and rolled it on before coming back over me. 

“Ready?” he asked as I felt the stiff head of his cock probe me.

“Yes,” I breathed.  I held his arms as he took my breath away when he finally pushed inside, submerging himself in my heat.  I clenched around him and rested my knees against his sides as he started to slowly fuck me.  His jaw was stone, but his eyes were warm and molten as he tenderly dropped his head and kissed me. 

“What’s wrong, honey?” It felt like he was holding back.

“Don’t want to hurt you,” he replied through gritted teeth.

“You won’t,” I swore.  “Let go, Aden.”

His eyes searched my face and when he found what he was looking for, he let go.  I held on tightly as his thrusts increased in speed.  Each inward slide hit the precious, sensitive spot inside me, and when he drew back, his cock scraped over every nerve ending inside me.  I was delirious with pleasure.

“Don’t stop,” I pleaded.  It felt way too good. I never wanted it to end.  Just when I thought it couldn’t get better, his thumb found my clit and his head dropped down so his mouth could suck on my nipple.

“Holy shit,” I breathed.  I could feel him
everywhere
.  He was consuming me in the best way possible.  My skin felt electrified.  My blood felt like it was on fire.  I was panting and moaning.  Aden was grunting and groaning, whispering my name as his tongue teased my nipples.  My orgasm hit me without warning, and it was so powerful I saw stars behind my closed eyes.  As my eyes slowly opened and the ripples left my body, I watched as Aden fucked me deep and fast, chasing his own release.  My fingers traced the stubble on his jaw before moving to his chest, down over his abdominal muscles that shivered beneath my touch.  I gripped his arms and then went down his back to his firm, tight ass that clenched and unclenched with every thrust he made.

“
Fuck
,” he groaned, so deep and guttural I felt it travel through me.  “Scarlett,” he rasped into my neck as his cock jerked inside of me and he came.  Both sated and panting, Aden collapsed down on me, making sure not to crush me with his weight.

“Be back,” he whispered, kissing me quickly, before he withdrew his now-flaccid cock and tugged the condom off.  He disappeared out of the room for a minute before returning a short time later and climbing into bed beside me.  He pulled me into his arms and I buried my face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the heady scent of our lovemaking.