Savaged Page 5

  “I can practically hear your heart beating wildly out of control. It’s your fear that excites me.”

  I remain silent as I pensively peer into the vastness of the room. I can tell where his voice is coming from, but I don’t know where I am or what lurks deeper.

  Managing no more than a husky whisper, Louis breaks the silence, “My dear, Cambree. You knew what you signed up for; you chose to come. No one forced you. Yet here you are, scared and shaking like a young girl who just saw the boogie man. Is that what you’re afraid of? You’re scared you’ve come to fuck a monster?”

  A small chuckle crackles in the air like fireworks booming in the distance on the Fourth of July. He’s laughing. His amusement echoes off the walls, causing my body to stiffen in shock.

  THERE IS NO REACTION TO my provoking. Why isn’t she speaking? It was a failed attempt. Thoughts race like Thoroughbreds in the Kentucky Derby in my mind as I regain my composure.

  “I’m not scared of you.” Cambree’s voice is fragile and shaky when she finally speaks. “I’m scared of the dark.”

  The admission almost brings me to my knees. I’ve never known someone to be so honest, especially in my home, where I control everything right down to the temperature, the mood, the lighting. She is not frightened because she is about to screw a complete stranger. She is simply scared of the dark like a child. Yet the thought of her being so forthcoming doesn’t irk me, it makes me feel normal, if only for a few seconds.

  “I cannot help you there, Miss Evans. You see…I am the darkness. With me, you have to accept that and move on. If that isn’t something you can become accustomed to, then I am afraid our business deal has ended before we gave it a chance to really blossom.”

  My movement makes a creaking sound as I step forward on the hardwood floor. Her breathing grows more erratic as I near. The smell of jasmine fills my nostrils. The scent is heavenly. “If you want to leave, you know where the door is.” I hope she doesn’t want to flee my presence already.

  Unlike my new guest, my eyes are used to the dark. Where she fights to see me, I can see her silhouette perfectly, and I use it to my advantage to drink her up. Cambree stays mute, her body swaying back and forth, her feet firmly glued to the floor.

  “I don’t understand why you have the lights off. That wasn’t explained to me,” Cambree probes.

  “I assume that you read our agreement very carefully?” I ask, taking another step in her direction, wondering why she is wondering such imprudent things.

  “Yes. Yes, I did. But never once did it mention anything about the lights.”

  My voice, now exasperated, drifts like fog in the air. “I hired you under the pretense that while you’re here, with me, under my roof, you play by my rules. Rule number one, I like the lights off. I understand now that you are frightened of the dark, and I do not wish for you to be afraid. Next time, I give you my word to try to be more accommodating to your fears. Now, shall we?”

  “You don’t just expect me to waltz in here and screw a stranger, do you? I mean, I read the agreement, but I just…thought…I don’t know. I have some questions, like the living arrangements. I brought a bag, but…I’m not comfortable staying in your house.” Her voice shrills as she quickly spurts out her sentence. No doubt in fear that I’m lurking in the darkness, waiting to capture her like I’m a wild animal.

  “I thought we had a mutual understanding, Cambree.” The sound of her name rolling off my tongue could almost be mistaken as desire for her already. Pull yourself together, Niko.

  “We did…we do,” she stutters as she backtracks. I recognize the distress in her quivering voice and I know she’s uncomfortable. “Where would you like me?” The change in her demeanor is almost palpable.

  “Not tonight. I do not want to force you into a mutual, sexual…friendship, if you’re not comfortable. As for where you’ll be sleeping, that’s up to you. Normally, my guests come, perform their duties, and then leave. But you’re new. I’d like you to want to stay, to want to service me. I can sense that you’re not there yet, which is what I expected. Perhaps you’d like a drink to calm your nerves?” I’ve never offered any of the other service women drinks before. Then again, none of them was ever so nervous that I could hear their teeth chattering.

  “I’d love one.”

  Making my way to my office, I open the bottom drawer of my desk and pull out a bottle. I’m in uncharted territory. As much as I know Cambree is nervous, if we’re being honest, I am too. The thought of sitting down and having a casual drink with her makes me more eager to know her. I know it’s absurd of me to want to, but I do.

  As my hand grips the bottle’s neck, I rest the rim on the edge of the glass and pour a small amount of liquid into one. Mimicking the same movements, I pour a larger portion for myself. “My assistant, Jarod, tells me that you two met at a nearby coffee shop,” I say, making casual conversation.

  “Yes, sir,” Cambree answers, and the sound of her fidgeting with her nails makes me shake my head. Small talk isn’t something I’m used to, and I sure as hell am not used to a woman, one that I hired to screw, calling me sir.

  “Cambree—”

  With an insecure voice, she interrupts, “It’s Bree. I like to be called Bree.”

  “Do you? Hmm….” I pause to let the idea roll around in my head. “I seem to like the way Cambree rolls off of my tongue. Would you mind terribly if I addressed you as Cambree?” Since when did I ask permission to do anything?

  “Cambree is fine,” she says, short and to the point. A triumphant grin creeps its way onto my face.

  My fingers are cool as they grip the glasses, and I walk the short distance to where Cambree is standing. Holding one out to her, I cough to let her know that I’m close. So close I can hear her mumbling to herself.

  “Open your hand,” I instruct, and our fingers graze one another’s briefly. Jerking my hand away, the liquid in my glass swooshes around the rim. I can feel a hint of moistness as it almost barrels over. A sensation I haven’t felt in a while slithers through my body.

  The air between us thickens. Neither of us says a word, but our breathing audibly increases. Fear drips off of her. I can almost taste it on my lips. She is utterly petrified of me. But my erratic breathing and increasing pulse are from a pure longing to be buried deep inside of my new guest. It’s not fear. The thought of sliding into her, the cloth at her throat that parts and dips at the hollow of her neck makes me raw with desire. My body twitches, a thirst that Gretchen obviously didn’t quench burns within me.

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Marks. I know your rules said there is no touching. It won’t happen again.”

  The way Cambree’s voice shakes as she speaks to me, the lack of authority in her tone, doesn’t sit well. I’m her new employer, almost lover, and hopefully soon to be friend, but I am not her master. The thought of chaining her up and having my wicked way with her excites me, of course. What man in his right mind wouldn’t crave that thrill? But quite frankly, I’m not into any type of BDSM, not fully. I’m nothing close to her master. I have to make that clear.

  I glare intensely at her as I lean forward. “Do not, under any circumstances, ever apologize for touching me, and do not address me as sir. I like to be called Niko. I’d like for you to call me that, please.”

  “But, the agreement said—wait,” she protests, “I thought your name was Louis Marks?” Confusion lingers in her tone.

  “I know what it said, I wrote it,” I say sternly. “My name is Louis Marks. However, if we’re going to truly be friends, I’d like to introduce myself as Niko Kincaid.” I don’t know why I feel safe being honest with her. My identity is a secret, yet I’m blabbing like a schoolboy. “I’m saying that you don’t have to apologize and you can address me as Niko, but only here in the safety of my home. Outside of these four walls you must not ever mention the name Niko Kincaid. Do you understand?”

  She sighs and whispers, “Yes.”

  “Now let’s just see where we’re hea
ded on our own.” My words shock me. I’m breaking one of my most important rules: no touching. Touching leads to kissing and kissing leads to passion. I need sex, not passionate lovemaking. Pure, raw, hot sex that makes your toes curl, not your heart pound.

  I don’t know why I am making any exceptions for Cambree after just a few short minutes of knowing her. It has to be the way she stands so timidly. Her waist is slim, flaring into rounded hips. The way her delicate wrists lay against the outside of her thighs, and the fact that her eyes dart in the direction of every noise, but her head never turns. She’s nervous to the bone, and it’s mouthwatering. I’m used to women throwing themselves at me the moment they walk through my door.

  I’ve never had to fight for anything, not since the moment I decided to fight my fate and won. I’ve ordered women to please me and they’ve delivered themselves on a silver platter, usually naked. Cambree is different. Deep within me, I know it is about the money for her. It isn’t about the sex or me. She has no idea who I am, what I do, or certainly, what I look like. If she did, I think she would flee my presence faster than a bank robber escaping a heist.

  Cambree is a prize, one that I’m prepared to work to obtain. I will slowly earn her trust and hopefully the feeling of admiration that has quickly spread through my body like a raging wildfire is worth the effort. The only difference is, now I don’t just want her body. I want every morsel of her that she is willing to offer. A shadow of challenge dances across my face as I take another sip of my drink.

  “Please sit. I’m sure that this is uncomfortable for you, but I am glad that you’re here. I’m glad that I haven’t frightened you too badly,” Niko says. I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

  Little does he know just how frightened I really am. Never have I felt so completely lost. It’s as if my mind wants to see the man who just offered me a drink, but my heart can’t possibly take it. Seeing him, face-to-face, will make all of this real. As scared as I am, it’s probably best. At least this way I can imagine that he looks like a prince, and not a monster as he claimed.

  Struggling to maintain an even, conciliatory tone, I say, “Niko.” I’m still confused as to why he needs an alias, but I’m too frightened to ask. “I’m not going to pretend that I’m not nervous. This whole situation is bizarre. But I’m here and I’m willing to service you.” I clear my throat. “So, are we going to keep beating around the bush, or are we going to fuck?”

  A faint choking sound erupts from the dark and causes a tiny bout of accomplishment to spread through me. I got to him. My success is short-lived as undiluted laughter follows the sound of Niko coughing. The corner of my mouth, which was twisted up, proud, falls into a flat line. “Is there something that amuses you?” I ask, with my hand on my hip bone.

  “Honestly, yes. You amuse me, Cambree Evans. Your courage and fear hang around you like a cloak. It’s nice. You see, normally my guests throw themselves at me, but you, you’re only offering because that is your sole purpose of being here.”

  Confusion blinds me.

  “What if I offered you another agreement? Could we change our current one? Maybe if more money were involved?” Niko asks. The word money echoes out of his mouth and rings in my ears.

  My eyes smolder. More money? The things I can do for Grams race through my mind like a stampede of runners in a marathon. I could even possibly re-enroll in classes at the university. I can quit my job at the shoe store and have a more hands-on approach in helping Grams. Yes, more money is exactly what I need. “I’m listening,” I answer, surprised by this unpredictable man’s offer, knowing good and well that I’m bargaining with the devil himself.

  “As you might have noticed, I’m a little short on friends. If you can imagine, it isn’t everyday that I offer my home up to a woman. At least not anymore….” He pauses mid-sentence.

  Who is this man? I desperately want to find out. It’s as if, at times, he seems confused, or like he is fighting with himself. He says no touching, but then he corrects me for apologizing for the briefest of bodily encounters.

  My senses go into overdrive as I close my eyes and try to utilize them. A brief whiff of cologne startles me. Is he walking toward me? Was he sitting before? I peer into the dark, and tiny hairs on my forearms stand up as my mind tries to process where he is in the room. He coughs again. It’s not a real cough, but one of those trying to grab your attention coughs, only this time I smell something. It’s a mixture of wintergreen and bourbon. Knowledge of our proximity puts my nose into overdrive. Like a dog, I silently use my nostrils to smell him, to breath in the scent that is Niko Kincaid, my subconscious absorbing it.

  “So you want to not only buy my body, but also my friendship?” My tone is curt as I question him.

  “Miss Evans, that is exactly what I want. I want both. I don’t fucking know why.”

  His confession pulls my attention. Poor guy. He basically just admitted that he doesn’t have friends. The sad part is, I don’t either, other than Max, my boss at work. I’m pretty much a loner. What the hell? I shrug. With nothing else to lose, I sell the rest of my soul.

  “I’ll have sex with you, and we can learn to be friends. But don’t make me regret this.”

  “In my wildest dreams, I wouldn’t dare make you regret a single day of your precious life. Cheers.”

  I raise my glass, unsure of where he is, until I hear the sound of our glasses clinking together. “The contract said I should be available upon your request, anytime of the day for the next three months?” I try to clarify our arrangement as I pull my hand back, closer to my body.

  “I hardly think one could form a true friendship during that short duration, but for now, I suppose we could stick to the rules. I would however like to officially offer you a guest bedroom in my home. The closer to me, the better.”

  I’m completely, utterly nuts as I sign the contract in my mind. The moving in with a stranger, one who wants to do God knows what with me and my body, part scares me. It’s plain stupidity. But I don’t waver, for some dumb reason I agree. “I’ll sign it and agree to your terms.”

  “This is great news,” he says, and I swear that I hear his lips part into a smile.

  “So, friend,” I mock our newfound relationship, “are you going to tell me why you live in the dark?”

  “Eager for answers. Jarod told me you were full of questions.”

  Feeling a shudder of embarrassment, I take a sip of my drink. My curiosity doesn’t subside as the liquor slides down my throat.

  I am here. In a mansion. With a complete stranger. Offering him sex in exchange for money. Heck yes, I want answers.

  “How about we play twenty questions? Since I don’t know much about you, and you don’t know much about me, we’re sort of starting our friendship off on the wrong foot here.” Closing my eyes, I hope that he agrees. This is the only way. I was stupid to believe I was going to waltz in here and have sex with a man I don’t know.

  “Tonight, little lamb, I think it is a little too late. I’ll see to it that Jarod meets you in the hall, and I will see you tomorrow.”

  He’s kicking me out? Who does he think he is? Little lamb? “So, let me get this straight. You just asked to be my friend, basically moved me into your giant ass estate, and now you’re kicking me out?” I snap. Anger beats in my chest like a drum.

  “It’s late and I know this is a lot to take in. I promise, tomorrow we will play your little game. What did you call it, twenty questions?”

  “Sure. Yeah, whatever. Goodnight.” With nowhere to set my drink, I stand up and turn on my heels, still holding onto the glass. It’s impossible to find the door when I can’t see two feet in front of me. Taking baby steps, I inch forward, glass in one hand and my other open, expecting to run into a wall. Although, it isn’t a door or a wall that my skin touches as I trip over an accent rug, it’s Niko’s body.

  His arms wrap around my waist, catching me from falling onto my ass and making an idiot of myself. With our bodies so close, I can alm
ost see his face, but he turns sharply to the side, preventing me from getting a good look. The wintergreen scent is right in front of me. I can almost taste it, chew it, feel its chill on my skin.

  My cheeks flush, burning, as the embarrassment travels to the tips of my earlobes. “I’m sorry. I…I don’t know where the damn door is.”

  “No worries, sweet girl. Let me help you.”

  Gently, Niko grips my hips and nudges me forward. Our feet in sync with one another’s as we walk to the door. We stop, his hand hovering over mine. Niko doesn’t talk as he slowly brings my hand up. His movement is as fluid as an artist painting on a canvas. His breath hits the back of my hand, making my skin glow from its warmth. My mind goes blank, my eyes stop trying to see, and I allow myself to just feel.

  The skin on my knuckles tingles as it grazes Niko’s soft, plump lips. Never did I imagine the man who hides himself in the giant estate, who pays for sex, would be so tender.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Cambree. Sleep tight. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispers. His words make me momentarily weak in the knees.

  I feel the cool metal of the doorknob on my flesh as Niko places my hand there, and then he slowly walks away from my side. I’m lonely, already. Stepping into the hall, I’m out of breath and feeling completely and utterly shocked by our encounter.

  Truthfully, I’m smitten, and it’s only day one.

  THE MORNING AFTER OUR encounter, I feel different when I awaken, wrapped tightly in silk sheets. The soft material reminds me of the smoothness of Cambree’s skin as I slid her hand over my parted lips. What was I thinking? I wasn’t, that’s the problem. If I start falling now, Lord knows what kind of danger that could bring, not only for my company and me, but also for Cambree.

  There are things about me that are darker than the shadows where I reside. Things that have been dead-bolted behind closed doors. Things that only a few select people know. Feeling anything but lust is out of the question.