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He doesn’t wait for an argument, simply hands me a helmet before straddling his bike and turning it on. The powerful engine rumbles through the street, and after figuring out the buckle for the helmet, I climb on the back, wrapping my inked arms low around his waist, careful not to touch his chest. He’s not exactly the type to complain about a little pain, but after the amount of work I did on him today, I know his skin has got to be more than a little tender.
Keeping his word, Viper drops me off right in front of my apartment complex, and the second my feet hit the ground, he takes off, his bike roaring down the street. I have to admit, despite how adamant I’ve been about him keeping his dick away from me, I’m a little disappointed that he didn’t even try. Hell, I didn’t even get a goodnight.
The thought confuses me, and before I allow myself to turn back and call after him for a wild night of being tossed around my small home, I enter my access code into the keypad at the main entrance of my apartment complex and get my ass inside. I hurry up three flights of stairs before finally coming to my door, hastily unlocking it, stepping inside, and locking the door behind me.
I’m not going to be Viper’s little plaything.
Good for the hole does not mean good for the soul.
2
REID
Kyah.Kyah.Kyah.
My beautiful Kyah Renee Bailey.
Fuck, she’s going to be mine.
She walks down the street, and I stick to the shadows, hidden under the cover of the surrounding buildings. My gaze sails over her body, taking in the art covering both of her arms and chest. There’s a raw beauty to her, something real that I haven’t seen in a woman for a long time, and I know, without a doubt, that this one is going to be a wild ride.
I’m already infatuated. One look and I needed to have her.
I can’t wait to hear her scream and feel her body under my hands as I take her life, but first, I’m going to make her mine. She’s going to want me just like I want her. She’s going to love me, depend on me, and crave me every moment of the day. And fuck, when I taste her? The thought alone makes my hands ball into fists at my sides. I’m ready to take her right here in the middle of the street, but I have to be careful and play my cards just right.
This woman intrigues me.
I need to wrap my hand around her blonde hair and pull her into me. I need to hear the soft exhale of breath when I push inside her. And damn it, I know she’s going to be tight, like the perfect fit, made just for me.
There’s a feistiness in her. It’s as though she’s just waiting for me to come and give her exactly what she needs, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I see it in her. She’s never been satisfied, never felt the kind of rush I could give her.
I’ve been doing this for a long time, carefully choosing the woman who will become my newest obsession, and Kyah is easy. She lives alone, and from what I can tell, doesn’t rely on her family or friends. She walks to and from work, apart from the times Big Jim offers to drive her, though on nights like tonight, she foolishly declined, preferring to walk instead.
God, she’s going to make it easy for me. I’m almost disappointed that she won’t be a challenge.
I know her likes, her dislikes, her favorite meals, and where she prefers to buy them. But it’s not enough; this is only the surface-level shit. I need to go deeper to work out what makes her tick.
We’re in the middle of Brooklyn, and luckily for me, there’s plenty of people littering the street so I’m able to keep close without raising suspicion. She stops by the convenience store and grabs a chocolate bar and a soda, and I wait out front, hidden in the shadows, taking a long drag of a cigarette. Then when she steps out of the store, she passes right by me, and her sweet scent washes over me like the sweetest summer breeze. If I didn’t have the kind of control that comes from years of practice, I would have ended her life right here, but that would be a tragedy. I’m not nearly done with her yet. Hell, I haven’t even started.
Kyah keeps walking, smashing the chocolate bar like there’s no tomorrow, and as I fall in behind her, inconspicuously following her home, I can’t help but wonder if she has any consideration for her own safety.
She doesn’t exactly live in a safe area, and any other girl wouldn’t feel comfortable walking the streets alone at night. Hell, she doesn’t even flinch when a man passes her, and she doesn’t hold on to her bag a little tighter or cross to the other side of the street when someone leers a little too long. But it’s fine. She has me watching her back now. Nothing will happen to her as long as I’m with her . . . at least, not yet.
A thrill shoots through me at what’s to come. I always knew there was something a little wrong with me, something a little different, but it feels too good to give up now. I’m in too deep. There’s nothing quite like a little childhood trauma to fuck with a grown man and turn him into a walking red flag. But hell, every man’s a little fucked up these days, I’m just a little higher on the scale.
Though, am I really that bad?
Sure, murdering women in cold blood is a little frowned upon here and there, but it’s not like I’m going around breaking their hearts and making promises that I’m never going to keep. Who’s the real monster here? An observant guy who just happens to like following a woman home to make sure she’s safe, or a piece of shit boyfriend whose pull-out game is weak?
When a woman comes toe-to-toe with me, she knows what she’s getting. I’m up-front about what I want, what I’m going to do to her, and hell, I might even give her a screaming orgasm before ending her life. But I draw the line at being a shitty boyfriend. There’s nothing worse than a man who leads a woman on, promises her the world, and then the next minute, he’s fucking her best friend in the bathroom at Whataburger while she’s busy slurping on a shake.
Fuck. Men are real fucking bastards sometimes.
As for Kyah, I almost feel bad that I’m going to end her life, but the question is, when? I intend to enjoy her first. I’m going to open her eyes to a whole new world, and by the time her life is slipping away, it’ll be because she wants it, she’ll beg me to push her to the breaking point and set her world on fire. And those sweet, desperate screams, they won’t be made out of fear. No, they’ll be made out of pure ecstasy and pleasure.
It’s gonna be fucking amazing, the sweetest rush, just like when you’re ordering McDonalds and they accidentally give you an extra cheeseburger for free. Pure bliss.
Besides, I’ve been watching Kyah for a while. I know the men who’ve been trying to get between those pretty thighs, and they’re no good for her. It’s best I take her off their hands before they do something stupid like touching what’s mine. I’m sure some won’t see it this way, but honestly, I’m doing her a favor by saving her the heartbreak and regret. All men should strive to be a little more like me. They could really learn a few lessons. But I draw the line at teaching them how to make their kills. That’s far too personal to be sharing. Besides, most men are fucking idiots, and soon enough, one of them will get caught and end up giving the feds my name, and then my whole game would be over, and who wants that?
