The Hunted (Sleeping With Monsters Book 2) (6 page)

“We’re not normal people
though,” he warned.

I dared to smile. “I know. But
it’s nice to pretend sometimes.”

He paused and chuckled,
smiling back, then kissing my forehead as he thrust deep inside again. I
groaned and arced my hips up to feel more of him, and he purred. Our bodies
moved together, knowing what we needed more than either of us could admit.

He took a handful of my hair
and pulled it back, showing him my neck. “I just want you to trust me, Sam,
with everything you have,” he said, as he kissed down it.

“What if I don’t know how?” I
panted. Our hips were tight and things were building inside. My body wanted him
– and so did I. 

“I’ll show you. I’ll beat it
into you, if I have to.” He thrust harder now, faster, taking control. He bent
his head down and started fucking me in earnest, and I cried out after each
thrust, egging him on, both of us fucking like it was our last night on earth.
My fingers clawed into his shoulders as my pussy clenched around him, so close
to going off.

Three more thrusts and – “Oh
my god – Vincent –“ I held onto him, my orgasm rolling through me in waves.
“Vincent,” I breathed his name out because I needed to, because I wanted him to
be mine.

He came right after that with
a shout, throwing his head back in the glory of the moment. He sagged over me,
still inside, sweat dripping between us. That was the first time I’d ever seen
him lose control – and I realized he didn’t just want to have my trust, he
wanted to trust me, too. Maybe he was as lonely as I was. Maybe we could have
each other. My heart thrilled at the thought – and I put a hand to my mouth in
horror.

I was in love with him – and it
would never, ever, work out. What the hell was wrong with me? He collapsed to
my side, took my hand to his face, and kissed my palm.

He spent the night with me
that night for the first time. And he didn’t know it, but I cried again after
he went to sleep -- the tears of a foolish hooker in love with her
cruelest-nicest john.

#

I cleaned myself up
enough to go back into the cabin. I knew it was dim, so I was sure to turn the
flashlight off as I walked in the door. Max was still on the couch – that was
good, despite our recent interlude I didn’t want him assuming things. I made my
way back to the bed by the light of the last oil lamp and prayed not to have
any dreams.

Chapter Four

Why does she smell
like tears?

Did I hurt her?

I stayed on the couch
when she returned, like I was already asleep. We both knew it was untrue, but I
didn’t think she’d test me again tonight. 

I wanted to ask her so
many things. Where was Vincent? Had he ever mentioned me? Did she know who I
was to him – what we’d had? Did anyone?

For the past seven
years I felt like I’d been carrying memories for the both of us. I was glad to
have them, but Christ they were heavy. I knew I couldn’t be with him anymore,
and I knew why – but I wanted to know that I wasn’t the only one it hurt.

I heard her breathing
even out as she truly fell asleep, and I allowed myself to doze.

#

“We did it, Max –“ Vincent
looked over at me with a positively wolfish grin. We were in some metal and
cement pit by the ports and there were three bodies between us, plus one more
outside. “They didn’t hear us coming.”

Well, they had, but the one
who was supposed to warn them I’d killed quickly. The darkness gave me enough
cover to act faster than any human could, slapping his gun away before breaking
his neck. Vincent hadn’t seen me and conveniently the dead guy couldn’t
testify.

“Want me to clean this up?” I
asked, toeing the nearest corpse.

“No. Leave them here. The
Carminos will find out before the cops.” He closed a briefcase that I was very
sure was full of hundred dollar bills. “They’ll get the message.”

“Which is?”

He tucked the briefcase under
one arm. “The docks are ours.”

I opened my mouth to ask more,
then closed it again. I knew from watching TV and reading news that getting
involved in mob business was a bad idea. Watching Vincent get involved was bad
enough – only where he was concerned, I couldn’t help myself. My wolf and I
needed an alpha, and we’d both latched on to him.

He crossed the room, still smiling,
warming me like the sun as he neared. “Don’t look like that, Max. We’re gonna
go celebrate. Come on. Let me show you a good time.”

He turned and I followed,
obediently.

Celebrations for Vincent
involved a lot of booze with a light dusting of cocaine. I’d lived with him for
three months, long enough to know he’d never become an addict – he enjoyed
living his own life too much for that. But what was the point of being young
and thus far invincible if you couldn’t push your nights out hard?

We went for the booze
first, pressing into local bars and getting treated like a regular, even where
we weren’t. He clapped backs and shouted greetings, me always one step behind
him, eyes and ears alert. News of our success preceded us or Vincent shared it
along the way. People were happy for him, he was an
up-and-comer
, one to
keep-an-eye-on
, had
beginner’s-luck
, or was a
smug-asshole
,
depending on who I overheard.

I watched their faces
as Vincent became more inebriated, coming in and out of bathrooms with a
powdered nose. While half of them were genuinely happy for him, the other half
smiled with just their eyes, their mouths giving way to jealousy. I made sure
to stand close -- I knew from my time as a fighter that the only thing more
enjoyable than watching someone charismatic succeed was watching their subsequent downfall.

“Drink some,” Vincent
begged, by the third bar. He was swaying a little, eyes bright.

I shook my head. I had
to stay straight, for his sake. “Maybe back at the condo, Sir,” I said.

“Vincent,” he
corrected, like I didn’t know his name. Two men he knew approached him with
exclamations and clapping hugs, and one of them mentioned his cousin’s strip
club. A minute after that I was fetching the car.

The club was just about
to close when we got there, but between the relative’s connection, the men’s
suits, and Vincent’s bankroll, the club stayed open just for the three of them.

Soon Vincent and his
friends each had a half-dressed woman on their lap, with others lounging
seductively nearby. Unfortunately they hadn’t sent the DJ home yet either, so
the bass of the club was unrelenting, each thump making my listening wolf whine
in pain.

“Not even now?” Vincent
asked, lolling his head back, trying to shove a blonde woman at me.

Chemicals
, my wolf hissed. The scent of sweat and arousal in
here was good – the scent of cherry body lotion was not. “No, thank you,” I
said, gently pushing her back to the throng.

“Your loss,” Vincent
said, as one of the others took the stage to perform.

Everyone was quiet,
watching her rhythmic dancing. She was the kind of woman sometimes I’d luck
into after a fight, one so turned on by the spectacle that she’d forget where
she was or that I was poor – and the way she moved, my wolf could overlook the
cherries. Three months was a tortuously long time to be celibate – especially
when you were living with a man you wanted to fuck.  

“See what you’re
missing?” Vincent asked, looking back up at me. I flushed, and he laughed.
“Come on ladies – it’s time for us to go home.”

Vincent’s announcement
was met with
Awwwww
’s, and,
don’t go yet!
’s but he ignored them
and looked at me. “Get the car.”

I surveyed the room one
last time for safety’s sake, then left to do as I was told.

The valet they had let go.
I grabbed our keyring and went out into the streets, canvassing until I found
where he’d parked our car earlier, and came back. When I got back into the
club, most of the girls were gone, and so was he.

“Where’s V?” I asked
the blonde with a big bag tucked under her arm.

“He’s taking a piss,”
she said, checking her make-up out in a compact mirror. She was clothed now, in
a blue-sequined dress, and between that and her long blonde hair she looked
like half a mermaid.

The brunette who’d been
on Vincent’s lap was off talking to a guy – the owner of the club? – whose eyes
narrowed when he looked at me. The music hadn’t stopped yet, so I couldn’t hear
what they were saying.

Vincent emerged from
the bathroom and swooped forward, putting an arm around the blonde. The
brunette trotted over on impossible heels to catch up – my wolf saw
broken
ankles
and
easy kill!
and I had to push it down to make it shut up –
until she took her place on Vincent’s other side.

“Follow this man,
ladies – he’ll never lead you astray,” Vincent said, stumbling forward while
pointing at me. I held the doors of the club open for all of them, then helped
them into the backseat of the waiting car.

I pretended not to
notice or care what they did on the way to the condo, even though there was no
way not to hear the sound of their kisses, their moans, and smell the scents of
their arousal. My heart beat low inside my chest, my wolf jealous, wanting the
feel of skin, any skin.

I let all of them out
of the backseat, and herded them toward the elevator. Vincent gave me a look
over their heads as they lounged on him, groping at his chest, kissing his
neck, all of them leaning against the wall.

“You sure?” he asked
me, mouthing the words.

I nodded and looked
away, until the elevator found our floor.

He unlocked the condo
and went with them into his bedroom, and I sat on the couch, listening.

It wasn’t the first
night I’d spent like this, and it wouldn’t be the last. Why was I here? Why did
I torment myself like this? The money was good, but I didn’t need money, I knew
how to get by without it. I could always fight again if I had to, or just live
off the land as a wolf – a full wolf’s belly was just as good as a full human
one.

The door unlocked, and
Vincent emerged. He was naked from the waist up, and I could see lipstick marks
on his neck like bloody bites as he walked over to the bar.

“Are you completely
sure you don’t want one of them?”

I shook my head. “I’m
fine.”

He sighed and
contemplated me, drink in hand. “You’ve got to learn how to celebrate more,
Max. How to lose control every once in a while. Otherwise everything’s going to
build up in you and someday you’ll explode.”

He set his drink down
and began making two more. “You could take her to your own room, you know,” he
said, as I stood to help him carry the other drinks back. He smelled so good,
the scent I’d become accustomed to while living with him, his musk and a hint
of his aftershave. The stripper was right to have kissed his neck, if our
situations were reversed I would have started there too and then gone lower,
fast --

 Vincent looked at me
as though I’d been considering his offer. I quickly shook my head again. “Not
tonight. Thank you.”

“Your loss, Max,” he
said, his voice quiet, putting his drink inside the bedroom, and then taking
the other two from me quickly, and closing the door.

I went back to my vigil
on the couch, listening to them fuck, trying to ignore my erection.

Twenty minutes later I
stood up. I was going to go take a shower and jerk off with the remnants of my
dignity – that way I’d be done and dry before the strippers needed rides.

The bathroom smelled
like him, which didn’t help. His shaving cream, his cologne. I pulled my shirt
off and put it beside the sink. In the mirror I could see down to my hips. So
many scars I’d gotten, fighting other weres. A full set of wolf-teeth marked my
arm, and five gouges streaked across my stomach, where Syd had been half a
pound of pressure away from disemboweling me.

Other weres hadn’t come of age
and sometimes looked for dicks to suck. What I was was an aberration – no
matter how many of the older pack members had furtively fucked me, before I was
kicked out. I had to abide by their rules still – but none of them could stand
to be around me.

Which left me to take care of
myself. Like always. I rested one hand on the belt of my pants and was reaching
the other one down to cup my balls when I heard the distinctive sound of a gun being
unholstered in the hallway outside. I had one second to dive to the ground before
they shot the handle off the front door.

The women screamed and
I prayed that the alcohol had made Vincent slow, as one of the men outside walked
in. I waited until the last moment before throwing myself against the loose
door on him with wolf-strength. He dropped instantly with a concussion and a
bleeding broken nose – and the next man in the hall shouted in surprise. I took
a risk and leapt for him, getting too close too fast for him to use the gun,
and reached for his throat, breaking his windpipe with one hand. A second later
Vincent was in the hall, naked, except for a Steyr TMP. 

“What the hell?” he
said, surveying the situation, gun ready.

“Grab the girls’ phones
– someone told these idiots you were home and occupied.” I bent over to grab
one ankle of each man and dragged both of them into the condo.

Vincent left to do as I
said and I heard screams of protest from the other room. He returned with pants
on, hauling the brunette out.

“Who’d you tell?” he
said, holding her phone.

“I can’t tell you –“
she said, squirming in his arms. She looked even more like prey in that moment,
her eyes wild. My wolf salivated, wanting to see her try to
run
. 

“You do realize that
those men were going to kill you, too, don’t you?” I told her. As the only
sober person in the room, my voice had some authority. “Whoever planned this
wasn’t going to leave witnesses.”