Monster (21 page)

He kept thrusting even
as my moans became a murmured contentment. “Nuh uh, doll, ain't
done with you yet,” he said, sounding amused as he suddenly
knifed up to a standing position, taking me with him, wrapped around
his center.

Arms around his
shoulders, face buried in his neck, I had no idea we were even moving
until I felt my back slam against a wall.

My head snapped up to
find him looking down at me, a devilish smirk at his lips. “You
got to do it your way. Now I get to do it mine.”

I felt a thrill shoot
through me at the words. But then his hands were sliding from my
hips, going behind my knees, making then tilt up and my hips jolt
down awkwardly and if I wasn't pressed against the wall, I would have
been on my ass. He yanked my knees up higher and held them up as he
started slamming into me, his hips hitting my inner thighs with each
thrust in a way that was going to end up bruising. But I was too far
gone to care as his thickness pushed me mercilessly back upward,
making my breathing that had just leveled out become hitched and
ragged.

His face titled, moving
next to my ear as his body jerked ruthlessly into mine. “Sweet
fuckin' pussy,” he growled. “You like it rough?” he
asked, not needing to as I was mid moan as he did.

“Yes.”

His head tilted, taking
my lips to his and crushing into them as his pace got somehow even
faster.

The tightening inside
strengthened and I felt myself begging against his lips, “Don't
stop.”

“Not till you're
fuckin' screamin',” he promised back, his tongue moving forward
to claim mine.

It was seconds...
seconds
later that I felt the coil inside snap, sending with
it the pulsating rush of pleasure that was stronger than any I had
ever known before.

Then I screamed. Like
he said. His name. Like he liked.

His head lifted,
watching my face as he thrust through my orgasm, drawing it out, then
burying deep as he came, growling out my name.

“Jesus fuckin'
Christ,” he said against my neck a few minutes later.

Unable to make my brain
and voice box work together to form words, I felt my head nodding.
That seemed to cover it.
Jesus fucking Christ.

“I hurt you?”
he asked, pulling backward, his hands sliding from under my knees to
under my ass.

There was soreness. A
whole lot of it. Between my legs. My inner thighs. But it was a good
kind of soreness.

“No,” I
said, opening my eyes to his.

To this, he nodded,
lowering my feet down onto the ground. “Fuckin' perfect,”
he mumbled, one of his hands moving up my belly to cup my breast
briefly before settling on my jaw. The sore side. Stroking butterfly
soft over the bruise. “Go get some clothes on,” he said,
moving away from me.

“Why?” I
asked, leaning back against the wall, not fully trusting my legs to
hold me yet.

“We're gonna go
to your place and get some of your shit,” he said, walking into
the bathroom.

At that, my legs seemed
to remember their job as they carried me over to my tee. I threw it
on before making my way over to the bathroom door.

“What?” I
asked through the closed door.

It whipped open and
there was Breaker. Still naked. Still blissfully comfortable that
way.

“You need some
clothes. We'll grab your laptop. Anything else you need. You're gonna
be here a while. Might as well have your shit with you.”

With that, he brushed
past me and went to get clothes on.

A part of me was
hesitant to go anywhere. To leave the relative safety of his home.
But he was right. I needed clothes. My laptop would be good too. And
my notebooks. The picture of my mom I kept in a box under my bed. I
didn't have much. Hell, we would probably carry in our hands
everything I owned.

So I went into the
bathroom, found my dust-covered yoga pants and slipped them on
commando, deciding to keep his tee on rather than put my old dirty
one back on. Then I slipped into the boots Breaker bought me and went
out to meet him. He was changed into dark wash jeans and a dark gray
long sleeve thermal that looked way too good over his broad chest.

“Let's go,”
he said, moving to the door and leaving me to follow.

Fourteen

Breaker

I was half-surprised
when her place hadn't been ransacked. And when the surprise wore off,
worried. It should have been torn apart. Whatever the fuck Lex had
planned for Alex, it should have involved going through her shit,
figuring her out. The fact that he hadn't done that was yet another
thing in a long list of things that just didn't make sense.

Alex didn't seem phased
by it as she went right to her closet and dragged out a large black
duffel bag and started stuffing clothes into it.

I looked around her
place again, this time able to take my time, see it with clearer
eyes.

She really didn't have
shit. No pictures. No knickknacks. No art or books. Nothing that
would let you know who she was underneath it all. I wondered
fleetingly if she even knew who that person was.

“How bad is the
Chinese below?” I asked, thumbing through one of her coded
notebooks.

“Bad. But I've
had worse,” she said, grabbing a handful of bras out of her
dresser.

“You ain't gonna
need those,” I said, nodding to her hand. “I'm gonna go
grab some food. Not that your burnt toast wasn't delicious, doll, but
I need real food.”

“Ha ha,”
she said, taking the bras and stuffing them into her bag regardless
of my having no intentions of letting her wear them. “What?
You're not even going to ask me what I want?” she asked,
sounding genuinely annoyed at the idea as I stood in the doorway.

“Figured I'd get
a bunch of shit to share.”

“What if I didn't
like what you ordered?” she asked, putting her hands to her
hips.

“Are we seriously
arguing about fuckin' Chinese food?”

“It's more your
presumptuousness that's the issue.”

She could argue about
anything. Heatedly. I knew if I didn't give in that we were gonna go
a couple rounds. For no good fuckin' reason. That was just how she
was. And if it wasn't so fuckin' hot, I would probably find it
annoying. “Fine, doll. What do you want to eat?”

At this, she dropped
her hands from her hips and shrugged. “I'll eat anything.”

It was so ridiculous
and unexpected, I found myself throwing my head back and laughing.
“You fuckin' serious?” I asked through it. “You
bitch at me about not asking you what you want when you don't give a
fuck what I order?”

“Like I said...
it was the principle of the thing.”

Jesus Christ.

She was a fuckin' nut.

But I walked down the
fire escape smiling.

I was watching the
people behind the counter load up the brown bag with soy sauce and
mustard packets when my cell rang. The sound immediately filled me
with dread. I had no other jobs going on. And while it wasn't
uncommon to get a call about a new one, they usually began with a
tentative text with a passcode first so they knew it was really me
before they got me on the phone.

I reached for it and
hit the call button.

“Yo.”

“Breaker,”
Lex's slimy voice met my ear and confirmed the churning feeling in my
gut.

“Lex,” I
said back, sounding bored though the blood was whooshing in my ears.

“How is my girl
holding up?”

Fuck. This was shaky
ground. There was a chance I was being watched so I couldn't lie. But
it also didn't look good that I was parading around with her not
cuffed or looking the least bit disheveled. Hell, when we left my
place, she looked freshly fucked and contented.

“Pain in my ass.
Demanding I take her back to her place to get her a change of
clothes.”

“Gotta love a
girl with spirit,” he remarked making my lip snarl up. He liked
girls with spirit because he enjoyed breaking them. Sick fuck.

“Why you calling
Lex?” I asked, handing cash to the girl with the food.

“Keeping an eye
on my investment.”

“Investment?”
I repeated, taking the bag of food and walking to the door, stepping
onto the sidewalk.

“Yes. I have
plans for her.”

“Enough with the
fuckin' code, man. What do you want?”

“I need you to
bring Miss. Miller to my office tomorrow.”

Shit.

“Which office?”
I asked, knowing this made a big difference to Alex's fate.

“Oscar Street,”
he answered immediately.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

“What time?”

“Eleven.”

“Be there,”
I said, hanging up before I could say what I was really thinking.

Namely, that I should
take Alex and get the fuck out of dodge.

Lex had a number of
offices in a number of locations. There were the ones he called you
to to discuss new business deals. Offices with a desk and bookshelves
and a sidebar full of nice liquor. Then there were the 'offices' that
were cheaply decorated in the front room because the meeting was
really taking place in the back and it usually meant a lot of your
blood would be washed down the drains in the floor.

Oscar Street was one of
the office fronts.

And if he was being
smart (which he usually was), there were eyes on me. There would be
no running off.

I made my way back up
the fire escape with a pit in my stomach, opening the door and
freezing.

Alex was standing in
front of her desk, piling the notebooks into a cardboard box. She had
changed into a pair of light wash skinny jeans and a purple long
sleeved t-shirt. And a bra, I noticed with a smirk. But that wasn't
what had me pausing.

It was that she was
singing.

A slow, somber song
that was about smiling when your heart was breaking. I had a vague
memory of it playing on some oldies station when I was growing up.
But whoever I had heard singing it didn't do it justice. Something
about it coming from Alex's lips, her voice a smooth, crooning sound,
had the words landing heavy in my chest. She had a great voice. But
it wasn't that. It was seeing the Alex behind the walls and fences
for a moment- soft and sweet and unprotected- that had my breath
getting caught.

“Oh,” she
said, turning her head to find my standing there. A blush crept up on
her cheeks and she doubled her efforts to get her packing done,
pretending it took all of her concentration. “I'm almost
ready.”

“Alex...”

“Just need to
grab something from under my bed and we can...”

“Alex.”

“What?” she
asked, picking up on the edge in my voice.

“Lex called.”

At this, she froze. And
her eyes lost the light they had and went dull. Closed off. Walls
firmly back into place.

If possible, I hated
the fuck all the more.

“What did he
want?”

“A meeting at his
office.”

“Which one?”
she asked, an edge in her voice suggesting she already knew all about
his different offices.

“Oscar Street.”

She didn't go pale. Her
mouth didn't fall open. She didn't start to freak out. Nope. The Alex
from the train car was back. The Alex who was resigned to her fate.

“What time?”

“Eleven.”

“Okay,” she
said, nodding once. “Well that gives me some time.”

“Time for what?”
I asked, hoping she would come up with something she wanted to do.
Something I could do for her. Something to put a smile on her face.