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Despite my better judgement, Kane surrounded my every waking thought and when the professor announced that the exam was open book the moment I walked into class, I was overjoyed with my small stroke of luck.
I’d take care of my needy pussy later tonight.
CHAPTER3
Kane Lockhart
I remembered the first time I caught Lexie’s scent like it was yesterday. I sat back in my seat and took a sip of my bourbon, watching her move across the stage and reminiscing about that fateful day when I’d first found her.
The first day that I’d known she was mine.
My cock hardened at the thought.
My Lexie. Mine.
Like it always did, the Las Vegas strip blazed with fluorescent lights, a cacophony of colors and noise that went into all hours of the night and even into the early hours of the morning. I moved through the throngs of people like a phantom, my senses attuned to the slightest sound or movement that didn’t belong among them.
Couples in elegant nightclub attire strolled hand in hand, their laughter and whispered promises blending with the city’s ceaseless hum. The clinking of coins and the electronic symphony of slot machines provided a constant backdrop, the ever-running soundtrack of a city built on dreams, sin, and illusions of grandeur.
The scent of alcohol and perfumes intermingled in the air, a heady mix that spoke of celebration and overwhelming excess. Laughter and animated conversations filled the night with a sense of euphoria, while the occasional hushed exchange in dark corners carried hidden secrets and the hint of sex.
It was like this every night, no matter the day of the week. It was always busier on the weekends, and especially so tonight.
Today was Saturday around midnight, and the city was bursting with life.
Oftentimes, predators would stalk their unwitting victims among the overwhelming crowds. The place was littered with crime, but the Vegas police did a fairly good job of keeping it under wraps. Rape, burglaries, murder, kidnapping, and trafficking happened here at a higher rate because of the sheer number of tourists, but that wasn’t publicized anywhere unless you knew where to look.
I did.
In the dark shadows of night, I patrolled these streets and did away with those that meant to do others harm.
That night, it didn’t take long for my instincts to draw my attention to a young woman. She stumbled along the sidewalk, her high-heeled shoes in one hand and a phone in the other, fumbling to order an Uber, or so I presumed. Her movements were unsteady, likely the result of one drink too many. It wasn’t an uncommon sight.
She was pretty by conventional means, which meant that she’d likely garner attention by being alone here in the back alleys along the strip. I tailed her for a moment, watching from the shadows as she staggered along and tried to find the ride share section outside the Luxor casino.
Just as I’d suspected would happen, I soon spotted a man following her. He slinked in the shadows, his attire a mismatched array of leather and tattoos that screamed trouble. I could smell the alcohol on his breath, and I could see the predatory intent written all over his face. This wasn’t a chance encounter. This man meant her harm.
I moved closer, shadows swirling around me like a protective cloak. My heart thundered in my chest, not from fear, but from anticipation. I couldn’t let anything happen to this young woman, not when I could do something about it.
She finally managed to order the Uber, her phone’s screen casting a faint glow on her face. The man’s steps quickened as he raised his right arm, his intentions clear. He was going to knock her out.
I couldn’t allow that.
In an instant, I was upon him. I caught his wrist mid-swing, the blow intended for her never finding its mark. He stared at me, his eyes widening in shock as he realized he was no longer in control of the situation.
With a swift and practiced motion, I snapped his neck, killing him with almost no effort at all. He crumpled to the ground without a sound. Hurriedly, I gripped under his arms and dragged him back into an alley before creeping forward and checking on the young woman once again.
Seemingly unaware of the close call, she glanced up from her phone. Her eyes, wide with a mixture of fear and surprise, met mine. In the dim glow of the streetlight, I saw her mouth part, as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out.
I melted back into the shadows, and her eyes searched for me. She blinked a few times and shook her head, likely thinking that she was seeing things. With a nervous quiver, she looked down the road and then back at her phone. A white escalade turned the corner and came to a stop in front of her. She sighed in relief, pulling her shoulders back as she approached the vehicle.
She hurriedly climbed into the car, her trembling hands fumbling to close the door. The driver, oblivious to the drama that had unfolded just moments ago, pulled away from the curb and drove down the side street before it turned around the corner.
As the taillights of the car disappeared out of sight, I felt a strange sense of relief. The danger had passed, and the woman was safe for the night. She’d go home, stumble into her bed and wake up in the morning with a nasty hangover, but at least she would be alive.
My relief soared through me as I turned to head back towards the strip. That woman was likely not the only one I’d rescue tonight.
But then, a scent wafted toward me on the night breeze, delicate and intoxicating, and I stopped in my tracks. It was an addictive aroma, a unique blend of floral notes and a hint of something sweet, like vanilla and cinnamon. It hung in the air, drawing me in like a moth to a flame.
