Ruin: The Waking (13 page)

“Just don’t like being out here at night.”

“I’ve lived out here for three years.”

Which was a marvel to him. He felt like there was a lot he was forgetting and it lingered at the edge of his mind, teasing.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding,” Isadore whispered.
“Who the hell?”

Ruin tied the boat as an old truck pulled into the driveway.
His stomach tensed at the idea of dealing with more people. He decided he didn’t like people in general. Ruin watched a woman hop out the vehicle with a beaming smile and run up to Isadore and hug her with a squeal. Family? Friend?

“I told you I would come soon, you thought I was kidding!”

“Wow, you sure are here, look at you.”

Ruin hung back a few feet and the girl looked at him, her face lighting up in a smile. “Is this your boyfriend?”

“Ohh, no, no, JD is just a friend, plain friend.”

This news transformed the woman. She went from bubbly happy to something that put Ruin on guard. Ruin stiffened as she approached and stopped
exactly before him with her hand out. Handshake. He took her hand and shook it and she gripped his fingers nice and tight, making him want to pull back. “Nice to meet you JD,” she said, her voice low and her eyes full of… something familiar to Ruin. He’d seen it in Isadore but not quite so… bold.

One glance at Isadore made his stomach jolt. She stared at him with so much hate in her eyes
and her jaw cocked to the side. Now what had he done?

“I’m Stacey,” she giggled, still shaking Ruins hand.

“I’m Ruin.”

She gasped with fire in her eyes. “That your real name? It’s soooo sexy,” she said over her shoulder to Isadore who suddenly smiled warmly.

The girl turned back to Ruin and Isadore’s face snapped back to dangerous looking, her gaze on the never-ending handshake.

It occurred to Ruin like an instant revelation that whatever this woman was doing produc
ed something in Isadore that he liked. It was more than anger. It was anger at the woman and him. Ruin wasn’t sure why or what actually angered her yet, but he was sure it was something he liked and needed even. And like a man gone a year without food, he pounced with a hunger for more. It had to be pure instinct that told him to kiss the woman’s hand. Very slowly, he drew her hand to his lips and placed a lingering kiss on it.

“A pleasure, Stacey.”

When Isadore spun around and stormed toward the house, Ruin couldn’t contain his smile at discovering he’d stumbled into something amazing. But at the same time, the way his power swirled in him said he was playing with danger. But his hunger had taken over. In the back of his mind, he knew something pivotal was happening, and he was ready to take his chances and figure the details of that as he went.

Inside, Ruin let those hunger instincts guide him. “I think I’ll take a shower if you don’t mind.”

“Go right ahead,” Isadore said, with an aloof tone while putting on coffee.

“I hope you don’t mind that I spend the night,” Stacey said, ey
eing Ruin with a smile.

“Well as you can see, I have no room here and JD is here.”

“I don’t mind,” Ruin said. “I can sleep on the floor.”

The fury flying out of Isadore’s eyes made Ruin’s power roar with so much aggression he had to excuse himself for that shower.

There was another feeling going on in him, not so strong but stinging him. The need to
not
do what he was doing. Stacey’s constant laughter could be heard in the next room and by the time Ruin was done, Isadore’s laughter reached him as well. He paused, listening to the amazing sound. Standing at the bathroom door, he closed his eyes, taking it in, contemplating the feelings running through him. They were hungrier now. What was her power over him? She surely had one, this was undeniable.

He acknowledged that the fire and ice inside him was indeed one in their hunger for her, and Ruin was in complete agreement
with them. It felt like…almost a trinity of sorts. Him and the two powers agreeing on that one thing created something unique, and it was a thing in desperate need of much contemplation. And configuration, if he was to somehow obtain what he needed. And what
did
he actually need from her? At first it was learning. But now it was more than just learning obvious things and needing a physical guide in this new world, he needed many other things from her. Internal things

One thing he was sure of.
He needed to get to the bottom of this need with her, today.

Chapter
Thirteen

Isadore fought the bile in her stomach that wanted out all over that bitch Stacey. What the hell was she doing here? Did Jared send her? She washed her face in the kitchen sink while that whore got her
bags
from her truck. She glared at her reflection in the glass of the window before she pointed at it and whispered, “You will
not,
I repeat
not
let on how much you
hate
her. Do you understand me?”

She nodded at herself and washed her face again, turning her head as the front door opened.

The bathroom door opened as well and Ruin rushed toward her. “Let me help.”

“Ohhhhh, th—” her mouth dropped as
Stacey’s eyes locked on his ridiculously gorgeous
and
naked torso. That. Bastard. He grabbed her bag and she stared like an idiot overdosed on Zoloft.

Isadore broke out in a huge smile when Ruin looked at her. “Where do you want these?”
he asked.

She gave a stupid shrug, thinking
of the tramp being downstairs with him. “In my room. She’ll have my room of course.”

“Oh no, that’s not necessary,” she said,
already making her way up the loft stairs.

“I’ll take the recliner, of course,”
Isadore said as Stacey disappeared into the loft. “I sleep in it all the time.” She met Ruin’s glare as he ascended the stairs and she gave him the best smirk she could at seeing he knew she lied and didn’t like it. Tough titty bubba. “I was just telling Ruin,” Isadore added loudly, “how much I love sleeping in that recliner. And he loves sleeping on the floor. That’s where he usually sleeps anyway.”

“Well,” she called from upstairs, “there’s plenty of room for t
wo in this bed.”

At hearing the slutty giggle, I
sadore hurried up after them. Breezing into the room like a gracious host, she showed Stacey where everything was, the amazing view, all while the bitch smiled at Ruin’s body.

Isadore got between them, blocking her line of sight. “Sorry,
” she said to Ruin. “I should have gotten you the clothes you asked for.”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Mmm indeed you are.” Stacey gave more of those gag inducing giggles before hurrying to the window and opening it. She leaned out, making sure to show the cheeks of her ass in those way too short shorts.

Isadore shot her furious gaze to Ruin and lost her breath at finding his bright green eyes leveled right on her.
“I’ll…get our blankets. Do you mind helping me JD?”

“Not at all,” he said.

Isadore was positive she heard a smirk in that tone. Was he doing this on purpose? The thought to let him try his best made her sick, because she’d crack. Crack all over the place, all over her and him. She wasn’t going to stand around while he
flirted
with that bitch. Stacey would surely give him what he wanted, no marriage contracts or commitments needed, just a dick to plug her hole.

She
couldn’t get the blankets fast enough, not liking to keep her back turned for more than a second. She turned with the blankets, her heart skipping a beat at finding Ruin right behind her, watching. Watching
her.
“Take them downstairs please.”

“Yes mam.
” His voice was oh so sweet and accommodating.

An hour later, they were engaged in a
torturous evening of having to feed that bitch while she sat at the table in what could have passed for a bra, tits hanging out, touching Ruin non-stop. All while Ruin kept his emerald gaze locked on Isadore, secret little smirk in place. He was having fun was he? He took a sip of the wine the little whore insisted on them drinking, his eyes lowering to his glass occasionally only to raise back up to lock on hers. It always felt like he was slowly licking her with his gaze, making her heart try to beat out of her chest. Why was he giving her all this direct attention with the whore there? What was he trying to prove? That he liked only her? Well… he’d have to do more than that to prove it.

“I gave Isadore a massage the other night.” Ruin slid his possibly drunk gaze to Stacey, making
Isadore’s heart leap in her throat at what he might be getting at.

“Ohhh, a massage,”
Stacey cried, sounding like she was going to orgasm on the spot. “Can you give me one? Pleeeeease?”

Ruin held Isadore’s gaze and she fought not to show her dire need for him kick that whore in the teeth. “I suppose a small massage would be fine.”

Holy. Shit. Images of his hands on her body nearly gave her a convulsion. “After mine,” Isadore said. “You didn’t finish mine.” Oh dear God she was
pathetic!

“Maybe some music,” Stacey ran to Isadore’s stereo and laughed at her oldie selection. “Let’s try this.” Isadore got up and cleared the table
, while slow music filled the air with Stacey’s drunk squeal. “Come dance with me,” she called to Ruin.

“I don’t know how really.”

“It’s not hard, I’ll teach you.” She bound up to Ruin.

“After he helps with these dishes.”

Ruin looked at Isadore, his smile distractingly handsome. He liked her fighting for him, that was now
obvious.
And Isadore was just feeding into it but dammit she was not going to let that bitch put her hands on him. She’d continue being mad at him when Stacey left. First thing in the morning.

“Fine, I’ll dance by myself.”

“I’ll wash, you rinse,” Isadore said when Ruin came to stand exactly next to her. Too close. She shoved him with her hip and Ruin shoved her back with his, giving her a look that made her female parts tremble to be raped by that sexy full mouth, curved in a playful smile. Her tummy fluttered hard as she imagined how that would feel, his lips on her, his tongue.
Mercy me
. The memory of him kissing Stacey’s hand shot sparks of fury into her little fantasy, giving Isadore her stiff backbone again. How dare he do that crap!

“Glad you want me to finish that massage,” he whispered next to her, smiling. “I believe we were on
the
please fuck me
part.”

Isadore dropped the cup and it clamored in the sink. “I meant a real massage,” she whispered. “And that was only to save you from getting raped by that slut.”

“Save me? Why would you save me? You don’t even like me.”

“Well I hate her more than I don’t like you and she doesn’t deserve to have your hands on her.”

He held his hands out, studying them. “What’s so special about my hands?”

“Nothing,” she hissed. “They’re just not hers.”

“Whose are they?”

“Yours!”

“To do as I please?”

“Not in
this
house you’re not!” She slammed the soapy cup into his hand. “Rinse.”

“Just not in this house?”

She half faced him. “Look, you want to touch her so bad, then you can
leave
with her. First thing in the morning. But you’re not doing it while you’re here,
anywhere
here
motherfucker.
”

Ruin smiled at her,
seeming unable to contain it. “Motherfucker?”

“I know what you’re doing,” she leaned
into him with a glare then tossed a look back at ditzy, slow dancing with an invisible pole. “And it’s not going to work.”

He leaned and got in her face. “It seems to be working just fine. Sweet Isadore.”

She went back to doing dishes, nodding. “Okay, okay. You want to play nasty?”

“
Nasty.” Suddenly every word she said, he could provide an erotic meaning for. He leaned into her and whispered, “I want very much to play nasty with you Isadore.”

“Come dance Ruin,” Stacey pull
ed him away from the sink and Ruin grabbed hold of Isadore, pulling her with him.

“
Isadore gets the first dance.” He pulled her to his body, his hands splaying possessively along her back, the lower one firm at the top of her butt. The hateful look on Stacey’s face released Isadore’s inner bitch and she snaked her arms around Ruin’s neck, running her soapy hands in his hair.

It didn’t take but a few seconds for her ploy of revenge to
dissolve into her greatest young girl fantasy. There she was, in the middle of the room with the cutest guy in the world that stared at her so intensely, she felt like the only woman in the whole world.

“I’m going to bed,” Stacey mumbled, going up the stairs, making Isadore’s stomach flutter.

They’d be alone. The fear of what that could lead to raced along her spine. Ruin’s hand dropped lower, his fingers pressing into her ass as he pulled her tight to him, the heat of his hard body screaming for her immediate submission. A helpless moan escaped and she panicked. “Ruin…” She put both hands on his chest and he suddenly pressed them tight to him.

“Isadore,” he said back.

“We can’t…”

“Yes we can.”

“W-why?”

He stroked his fingers along her face, then trailed them over her neck. “Because you have to have it. You crave it.”

Why did he always have the wrong answers? “And what about you?”

“I need to meet your needs.”

“Need to?”

He nodded, his fingers continuing to where his hot gaze rested on her breasts. “I need to, yes.”

She grabbed his hands and held them still. “Need is not good enough.”

His glittery gaze sought hers, his brows drawn. “Stacey seems to think so.”

Isadore shoved him in a flash of rage and turned for the door but Ruin snatched her hand and yanked her back against his body.

“You
want
it, you
need
it and I
need
to give it to you.”

“Why are you acting like this is some kind of real physical requirement? You or I won’t die if we don’t
fuck
Ruin.”

He paced now before her, raking his hand through his hair, making her nervous with how troubled he behaved. “You’ve done something to me Isadore and I don’t understand what it is, all I know is that I need to give you what you need.” He hurried to her and held on to her upper arms. “You are the reason I literally and physically can’t leave you.” He tapped his chest with his hand. “I feel your needs. In my body and I
have
to meet them or…”

“Or what?” she
gasped, incredulous.

“
Or…” his jaw worked slowly to the side and he looked down. “Or I can’t think, I can’t…think clearly.”

It slowly dawned what he might be saying. “You mean…it effects your judgment?”
His pretty green eyes rose to hers. “Yes.”

Isadore was suddenly torn with so many things, need front and center. Then along came images of his mouth on Stacey’s stupid hand, shattering the illusion. “So you need to fuck me or you can’t think, is that it?”

“I need you!” he growled, anger flashing in his eyes.

“Well too bad! You can’t just have what you want JD, and hiding behind
the excuse that it’s me wanting it is a little shallow, don’t you think? Not to mention you haven’t even
kissed
me yet and you want—”

Ruin stormed up to her and kissed her
. Both hands holding her head tight, his delicious full lips pressing into hers, pushing them open for the passage of his hungry tongue. Dear. God.

The rough rasp
of his tongue and those full lips, filled her mind, and heaven help her, the hungry growls he made right in her mouth as he walked backward with her, stole her breath. She fought to think as her hands slid up into his hair and pulled with equal hunger. The next thing she realized they were in the bathroom, his hot gasps hard as he tasted her mouth so very completely and perfectly. He fought for a few seconds with her jeans and intense heat made her gasp in fear, then that cool ice followed.

She barely registered that something happened to her pants as his hand slid inside
her panties with a hungry groan, stroking with such a delicate eagerness on her clit. The exploding heat under his gentle fingers brought her sharp cry. She lifted her leg, grabbing at the hem of the white t-shirt he’d put on, needing so badly to taste him.

Seeming to sense her need, he ripped his shirt off, his breath harsh, hot, ragged. H
e returned to her, gripping her jaw in his large hand with a growl as he took her mouth again, his tongue lashing in victory, his finger driving her raging desire higher with each plunge inside her. He handled her like a warrior who’d fought an entire army to have this prize and intended to have every bit of it in that second.

Isadore was barely aware that her cries reached
shameful volumes with the blaze of his mouth, a savage suction along her neck. She held on to his head, his hair, delirious with the driving commands of his finger, and consumed with the growls tingling at her nipple now. He paused with hot gasps, staring at his prize, while his finger slowed to silky, deep strokes. “Perfection,” he whispered, before diving on the modest supply.