Page 31 of Saints

Page List


Font:  

Chapter Ten

There was only ever one place to go when I needed peace. There was only one place I had ever gone when I needed peace, and police tape would never be strong enough to keep me away. When her soft whispers threatened to burn a hole in my head, I found myself driving without any direction. It was muscle memory that forced me to park three blocks from her house, that made me crawl through two backyards before snaking in her kitchen door.

She was in my fucking house and that still wasn’t good enough for me.

For the past two years, I’d mostly been able to control myself. I kept my distance, and I stopped crawling into her house all together. Before this entire mess, I wastryingto be better. I was trying to be something she could at least respect, but pain only created more pain. When that awful feeling welled in my chest, I needed to be near her again— in some way that I couldn’t hurt her. I needed to remember what it was like when I wasn’t interfering in her life.

Birdie’s home was black, and it took careful footwork to avoid the mess left on the floor by invading detectives. They’d stormed her home after her car had been found, after they confirmed the blood that soaked the ground. They’d say they wanted a picture of her for the evening news, but I knew better. Entering her room made it clear what they were looking for. Her laptop was missing, her planner was taken, her desk calendar had been torn to bits.

If they were looking for a suicide note, they wouldn’t find one.

But maybe I should count my blessings. Maybe that meant Omar was still trying to buy me time.

My teeth ground together at the thought, and I focused my attention on the only thing that was going to relax me. I’d tell Birdie that I stopped by her house to get her a change of clothes. If the police had already been here, they wouldn’t notice a few sweaters missing, and I couldn’t imagine Birdie would ever be sick enough to find the truth in the lie. I didn’t think she’d ever be sick enough to know the way I rooted through her drawers to find the silky panties she’d been teasing me with for years.

The haze made me stupid, made me weak. I had hardly waited to gather her clothes before I’d stuffed her panties into my pocket and grabbed at my cock. It was only when my chest tightened again that I finally tried for the only release I had left. A moment of quiet reminded me that I was alone, and as my eyes drifted shut, I tried to remember what it was like to have her hands on me. As I undid my jeans and finally took my cock in my hand, I tried to remember why I didn’t just fuck her when I had the chance, fuck her like she wanted. The silk of her panties were the closest thing I had to feeling her warm hands, her hot mouth, and just the thought brought a slurry of curses to my lips.

I needed this.

After two days around her, I needed this.

I neededher.

It was supposed to be her fingers wrapping around my cock, her lips peppering my skin as she brought another wave of pleasure. It should have been Birdie whispering how desperately she wanted me, begging for my load on her tongue. If things had been different, I wouldn’t have had to sneak into her house to feel her. I could have fucked her in her bed, could have watched her cum on my cock just like she was designed to.

“Fuck,” I groaned, the silk slipping over my swollen head. It should have been her tongue. It should have been her tight pussy wrapped around me. It should have been her cum making my hand slick, and the reminder just built the tension more. Did she have any idea how hungry I was for her? Did she have any idea how quickly she could make me—

“Shit.”

As the first wave of relief hit me, a dry chuckle fell from my lips. For just a moment, the world felt okay. There were few sights that tightened my chest the way seeing my cum on her panties did, few things that calmed me as much as the scent of her room. It was a quiet reminder of how things could have been, of how I might have felt if I woke up every day bathed in her light.

But reality wasn’t quite as simple as that.

Guilt came just as fast as the high, and I rushed for her bathroom the moment it hit. I wouldn’t be able to bury my shame in the bottom of her laundry basket like I did last time. The voice in my head reminded me that I couldn’t leave my cum at her fucking crime scene. I was supposed to be dropping by to help her, was supposed to be getting clothes to make her comfortable, and all I’d done was fuck something else up.

Everything you do is a fuck up.

I swallowed the bile that built in my stomach. Soap and water were the only things I had to hide my mistake, and as I worked in her sink, I tried to figure out how I was supposed to explain the cum stain on my jeans. Was it so fucking hard to just control myself until I got home, to just keep my attention focused on the task at hand until I knew Birdie was safe? Had she always made me this sick? Balling her soaked panties in my hand, I stuffed them in my pocket and tried to clean the area.

If you leave any trace, they’ll know you were here.

They’ll know what you’ve done.

My teeth nearly cracked with the new force. I’d spent the night trying to convince myself that the only thing I’d ‘done’ was protect her. Regardless of what Omar said, of what the police said, I knew what I saw. I believed Birdie when she said someone had jumped in front of her. She only crashed because she saw someone in the woods. Even if I had no evidence of it,someonehad done this. My gut was sure that at least—

You’re pathetic.

You’re afraid to lose something you never had.

My growl should have sent it away, should have chased the hiss of truth back to my marrow, but in the dark, nothing was so easy. If I was wrong, if there really hadn’t been anything out there, how could she forgive me? How could she get past my obsession ruining her lifetwice? How could she love this thing that was so willing to destroy her?

She won’t.

And when she learns what you are, she’ll never recover.

The walls were familiar with my disgust. Her bedroom was used to hearing my growls, but nothing in the house would deaden the sound that came next. The running tap was nearly loud enough to distract me, but my body was too trained for this chaos. When I heard the kitchen door close, the rest of the world fell silent.

Someone was here.


Tags: Alice T. Boone Erotic