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Lyle stared Colt down and shrugged Colt’s hand off his shoulder. “It’s fine, I’ll put my big girl panties on,” he said, dripping sarcasm.
Colt clenched his teeth with frustration but said nothing.
“Put him in one of the unpainted hotel rooms for now. Water. No food. I’ll come get him and move him again in a few hours.”
“And then put him where?”
Lyle stared back at Rafe. “In another room,” he said thickly, as Rafe and some others half dragged half carried the man out of the boardroom.
Colt sighed.
He knew he needed to do this. ‘Stop by for an ice cream’ she had breathed at him. Nothing about the violence he’d been about to do, how rough he’d been with holding her. Not questioning the knife in her face or his hard-on against her stomach. Then, later, balls deep in her sweet little pussy. Stop by for an ice cream, she had said. So he knew he needed to do this.
He sat on his bike, watching. There was no one else in the shop. He noticed. She stood in front of the counter, and took a moment to flex her neck, her hands coming to her back, rubbing it slightly. It was his shift tonight to watch her. To ensure no other Demonios fuckers came for her. But he wanted to do more than watch her tonight.
She made herself a cup of coffee, sipping it, sighing in pleasure, her eyes closing, head tilting back. He blinked. He had to hear that. He didn’t feel ready and he didn’t feel like he had any right to this, but he fucking wanted it so he was going to snatch it back for himself. He had to act, otherwise he was going to explode.
So, just like when the little boy dropped ice cream, he felt his legs swing over the bike seat by themselves. He stood and strode across the street, with purpose. Like he wasn’t in his body anymore, he was watching himself from afar. He had to be closer to her. He had to hear her. To smell her. He made it across the street. His heart was hammering in his ears. He went up to the door he’d seen so much of. He pulled it, the bell above the door tinkled. And he was in.
She turned, surprised, widening her eyes and pausing her hands for a second. “I was hoping to see you soon over here. I’ve waved at you every day, I’ve invited you in, I’ve wanted to see you… but you walked away.” She was watching him closely, her face more wary now.
He gulped, but held her gaze. Please Sugar Plum, he thought in his head. Please be patient with me.
She canted her head to the side, regarding him. Almost as if she was wondering what to do with him. She sighed eventually. “Would you like to take me up on my offer of your free taste now?” she asked.
He could only breathe. Stare and breathe.
She grabbed an empty cone from the upturned stack and offered it out to him, watching him carefully. He liked that she took the time to watch, to observe, to try to see his minute communications. He looked away, his way of saying no.
She looked personally affronted for a split second. “No cone then?” she asked.
He knew he was pushing his luck here. He couldn’t afford to be fussy. And yet she was doing so well with him, being so kind, so sweet. He shouldn’t have expected any less from his Sugar Plum Fairy.
She’d said yes with her body the other night, but he had thought that was just the fear, the darkness, caught up in the moment. And every day, when she’d smiled and waved, it had given him slightly more hope, built him up just one building block at a time. Treating him like a human, a person. But she was colder now, confused.
She tilted her head a little, regarding him.
Hear me, he thought, please listen to me. He’d never cared if people had taken the time to listen to what he was saying before. He did now.
But Sophie was patient. She looked closely at him. “Your body doesn’t have an ounce of fat on it, I’m guessing you don’t normally eat ice cream,” she commented.
She was looking at his body. Liking it. Appreciating it. Noticing that he didn’t eat ice cream. No one had ever looked at him like that. Well, one person had, and that had led to trouble. But this was different, Sophie wasn’t looking at him like an object she coveted. She was looking at him like a person she admired. He’d never been a person. Only an object.
He looked back at her, blinking rapidly. His brain was just exploding within his skull like pop rocks. But no, she wanted him again. Despite him blowing cold with her all week. She wanted him, in the light. He almost laughed out loud. Almost.
And she was right, he didn’t eat ice cream much. Not since he was a little boy. That had been before. And then, during, he hadn’t registered what he had eaten, it must all have been tasteless. Then after, when he first came to the MC, he hadn’t eaten anything for a while. Now, he was eating sensibly. What the sweetbutts cooked, high protein, lean whole foods, under April’s careful supervision. Yes, he didn’t have much fat on his body. Colt and Jared got him working out in the MC gym. Phantom was bulky muscle, and she had noticed and seemed to like it. He flexed his arms subtly in his T-shirt. Watching her as her gaze raked over him. He wanted her nails to do that, as well. Her teeth. He never wanted anyone to touch him before. But he wanted her to.
“What would you like to taste?” she asked, bringing his attention back to the array of ice cream in front of him. Maybe she thought he was paralyzed with indecision. He wasn’t, he knew exactly what he’d like to taste.
He had to act. She’d been his, for fuck’s sake, he’d been inside her already. That sweet, sweet slice of heaven had already been in his grasp. He had to make a move. He was a monster but he still needed all the things a human needed. Food, water, sex. Sexual satisfaction. The warmth of a woman. He needed that. He knew it now, it was as essential to him as water.
She stood in front of the glass fronted counter. He walked over to it, and lifted a hand. While looking at her, he placed his index and middle finger on the glass to the farthest left.
She nodded encouragingly. “That’s the chocolate one, it’s popular…” But she trailed off as he ran his hand along the glass. His two fingers making a slight squeak on the glass at their gentle progress toward her. He turned his body and started walking, too.
His fingers trailed over the glass, toward her. He had to show her how hungry he was, and for what. Stalking toward her, she was his prey, his next meal, he would hunt her down and he would devour her.
She swallowed. “That’s the vanilla, then the strawberries and cream flavor…” he kept moving toward her, his eyes fixed on her.
