Slick as Ides (6 page)

“I’m twenty-four, actually,” I correct him with a wink, reminding him he did that to me earlier, and it was equally annoying then.

“You have to admit though, she’s one of us,” Westin tells him.

“I don’t know what she is . . .” Nick shakes his head “. . . other than psychotic. She’s some kind of a freak, that’s what she is.”

“Better a freak than a petty criminal, a panhandler straight from the school of William Shatner’s over-acting one-oh-one.” My hands visibly shake.

Westin laughs.

And Nick . . . well, his jaw flexes. His teeth look like they’re grinding, and it’s such a shame since he has such straight, nice white teeth. A heartbeat later, and a vein throbs at his right temple.

He groans even louder with a frustrated, strangled sound, and I circle them again.

“Get over in front of the hanging tool board, and place both palms flat on it. Don’t look back,” I say.

They both drag their feet, with aggravation detailed all over their body language.

It’s pretty obvious, they’re not really afraid anymore, but they clearly know they’ve been beaten.

I laugh, watching them get into position.

Nick of course disobeys me with his eyes. His hands are in place, but his head is craning around to see me.

Oh God. Does he like the way I look? An electric charge hums through me and takes over my pussy, making it difficult to walk with a steady movement. All the flirty things he’d said to me online drift through my mind, making me breathe a little harder.

I wrench the tracker off my car he placed on the underside, pretending to be completely unaffected by his presence, though I can barely take my eyes off him. Nick growls like a dog when I lob it at his head.

His hand snatches it out of the air before it hits him, and he slips it into his pocket.

I try to inhale deeply, but he’s too far away to get a whiff of him.

Damn. I was hoping for one last sniff.

My insides clench deliciously, and another wave of heat passes through my thighs when I think about those hands on me, and his scent in my nostrils.

Absentmindedly, I rub a smudge off my door handle from one of their fingerprints.

He chokes on a cough. When I look over at him, his eyes are wide.

“Yeah, I’ve just erased some evidence of you having my car in your possession. So what? I’m not gonna file a police report. I was joking earlier. You’re too stupid to be in jail. You’d be gagged and butt-fucked before lights-out during your first twenty-four hours staying there.” I rub the spot once more to make sure I erased it completely. “Paco, the weed-prince of cell block Z, likes pretty, and you’d fit the bill for him a little too nicely. With a derriere like
that
? Pffft! No way he’d let your ass get away.”

Once I have this car back home, they won’t be able to do anything—Vapor and Fingers won’t be able to find me again. I’ll make sure of it.

A moment later, a vision of his extra fine-looking hand on my arm, invades my mind, and instead of my usual reaction of revulsion, my heart flutters.

I mask my sudden panting with a fake cough.

He glowers at me.

What? Does he think I’m making fun of his cough from earlier?

Who cares what he thinks or that he touched me? It doesn’t make a difference. I can’t be with this man. Dating criminals is what Dad does, not me.

I look away, preparing to leave and never see him again.

Right before I step into my car, he calls out, “Ides!”

It sounds remarkably close—like he’s only a step or two behind me.

And foolish me—I reflexively respond to my name, turning to look at him.

His lips are latched to mine in the blink of an eye. He kisses me with a fierceness that takes my breath away.

A liquid fire courses through my throat and lands straight in my pussy.

I groan—my body screaming at me to grip onto him and never let go.

Never!

I gasp.

Shove him off! Germs! Germs! Horrid, fucking germs!

But I . . . I hesitate, and his hands clamp onto my upper arms.

My eyes grow large.

Touch! Not again . . .

I jump back. He does the same in response.

“Dena . . . is that
you
?” he asks, his brows scrunched together.

How the hell did he figure that out? How can he know who I really am? Was this all fake, and he really knew who I was all along?

Fuck—I can’t be here!

My cheeks flame in utter mortification—I’m smarter than
this
.

I fire off a few rounds close to his right foot as additional warning to stay away. Then I quickly drop into my car and race out of there, breathless and a sweating mess.

“Good going, you idiot, you might as well have told the guy you live two blocks away from him, and you’d love to spend some more time with your lips on his!” I shout at myself, slamming my palms into the steering wheel.

Goddammit. I actually liked Vapor. A lot.

Fucking moron. How could I have fallen for his act?

I press down harder on the gas. My lips throb from that fiery kiss.

I can’t get home fast enough.

He kisses even better than I could’ve imagined.

And was that . . . ?

No, he can’t be. I don’t know that tool back there other than online. I’m imagining things—it’s not the same guy.

I make the mistake of looking in my rear-view mirror. Nick’s outside. He’s staring at me in amazement as I flee.

And the vision of him watching me leave makes me feel . . .
off
.

I grip the wheel tighter and breathe in and out with deep, calming breaths.

I
really
don’t like that guy. Not anymore.

Fucking stupid, freaking-out body!

I clamp my thighs closed. They’re leaking in the middle for him.

Great. Now I’m going to have to wash these same jeans and panties the moment I get home—the ones he got me wet in a week ago when I decided he had no place in my head anymore.

Bastard. Kissing me? Who does that after stealing someone’s car and getting caught?

“Aaaahhhhh!” I scream and stretch my neck, continuing to drive as fast as I can.

At a stop light, I rip my hoodie off and chuck it in the backseat. I had to get his germs off me—couldn’t wait until I was back in my garage.

Within moments, I’m back home, tucked up safe in my car, hidden away in my own, personal, bat cave.

I almost roll off the seat once I have the door open.

What now?

I’m too exhausted to scrub my car down.

I head inside and find a way to get a few more drops out of the last of my homemade sanitizer.

My feet shuffle around, heavy and uncooperative as I head to my office.

I plunk down in my seat and stare at my newest ideas I’m working on, but my eyes shift away, and I’m anything but interested in working.

How? How did I wind up caring about what he thought about me?

He thinks I’m repellent.

But he kissed you . . .

I fight off a shiver, and look for my sweater, but for some asinine reason, it’s not resting on the back of my chair as usual.

When I pause and think about it . . . I’m not cold. And my sweater’s in the dryer. I had to wash it after I sneezed.

And I’ve still gotta get out of these dampened undies and pants.

I get up, preparing to strip down—feeling grimy and obnoxiously dirty.

I kick off my Doc Martens and yank off my socks. My black jeans fall to the floor, and I have my black tee shirt off a moment later. My panties follow. I fling it all on top of my pants.

My bra is the only thing remaining. Well, it’s the only thing still clean, even if he did make me sweat a little. I don’t have boob sweat, and I’m sensible about not wasting detergent and water, so it stays on.

I lean over and reach into the bottom drawer of my desk. After Vapor kept making me ooze for him, I started keeping a backup pair of panties in my desk.

I slip them on, then stare at my pile of laundry that somehow all landed under the desk, and I realize that for the first time in my life I’m being messy, and I don’t give a fuck.

I stand there, staring and blinking for several minutes, trying to take in everything that happened tonight.

“I don’t care,” I tell myself. “He’s a douche. I really don’t care about him or this fucking mess.”

I kick the pile of clothes I’ve made.

Why should I care about any of it? I was almost violated.

Somehow, I still can’t move though. I’m caught up, staring and simply breathing. I’m numb and stuck in place.

I finally walk back to my bedroom with my head tipped down.

My body wants to crash on me, and when I’m within falling distance of my mattress, I allow myself to land face-first into the fluffy comforter I secretly love with all its purple ruffles and flowery patterns.

“Well, fuck, you don’t waste time getting naked for me,” a familiar voice lilts.

“Ahhhhhh!” I scream, and before I can jump off the bed, strong arms grip mine behind me, and I’m cuffed to the top of my black, iron headboard.

“Oh, yeah, I’m gonna have fun with you,” Nick says with a shifty smile.

“Let me go, you nasty fucker, and I won’t send you straight to prison for this,” I howl. “I wasn’t kidding. They’ll rape you first thing because you’re so damn pretty. Doesn’t hurt you have a tight ass, too. Makes it easier on their thrusting muscles, and makes their dicks happy, too. You’re an inmate’s wet dream . . .”
And mine . . .

He nudges my leg with his wrist. “Let’s talk some more about my ass and how much you like it.” He rubs his jaw. “Or maybe . . . Just maybe, we should talk about how I outsmarted you, breaking into your impenetrable fortress. Rumor is, not only are you invincible, and no one knows who you are, but you’re also supposed to have the most secure home in the US. Not very secure from where I’m standing.” He chuckles and paces at my side, brushing up against the side of the bed as he goes. “Wasn’t too hard to find you.”

My eyes follow him, and I gulp, my stupid mouth, watering again.

God, does he have to be so hot and smell this good? In a subtle way, I lean toward him and take a deep whiff.

If I die from his germs being breathed on me, at least I’ll have smelled something awesome first. I fight off a satisfied grin.

“Black is overrated. You’d look really good in some other colors like green, or even red. It would bring out the intense, electric blue in your eyes, though I do love the black bra and panties. I was right about the color. How smart am
I
?” He leans over, his head disappearing, and when he comes back up, he places a red, silky blindfold on my torso.

I try to angle my head up to see what he’s going to do next.

He rests his hand on the bed, an inch away from my leg. I scoot away from him.

“Too close for your liking?” he taunts.

I swallow and keep my eyes opened—focused on him.

“Not much for chatting right now, huh?” He removes his hand and inches toward my upper body. “Well, maybe if I take away some of your other senses you’ll be more likely to talk to me.”

I shake my head the second he picks up the blindfold and brings it toward my eyes.

“No, please, God, no!”

“Yes, please, God, yes,” he mocks me, smirking.

He slips it over my eyes, and a moment later, I hear the unmistakable sound of a cap on a bottle being flipped open.

“What
is
that?” I ask, my head lifting higher, my body perking up.

“I don’t want your germs,” he says. “It’s hand sanitizer, since I’m definitely gonna have to touch you.”

A soft, pleading whimper chokes its way out of my chest. He’s messing with me. How does he know so much about me? “Please don’t.”

“Have no choice, now do I? You refused to talk to me,” he replies. “Seems to be a recurring pattern with you. I say something that makes you squirm a little, and you cut me off. That’s a fucking pattern I want to stop immediately.”

“I can make your life miserable if you do this. It’s not too late for you. Think about it. You can let me go and leave without a trace. I won’t report you,” I say, my voice breaking. “You already know I wasn’t going to turn you in for stealing my car.”

“Oh, I know you can destroy me if you want to. I’m all too aware of what you did to your dad.” He chuckles and his hand tickles up my leg.

“Oh, shit!” My eyes close beneath the blindfold. He’s close enough his scent is seizing control of my brain, and his touch has my body on fire. I already need another fresh pair of undies.