Daniel
There's a certain kind of satisfaction in watching your prey from afar. The feeling of a Panther when it's fixated on a target and unwilling to let to it go. Usually, they go straight for the kill. But sometimes, when they find something that they really like, they can be really patient stalk it for days on end. Relentless. Always keeping their eyes on the prey but staying in the shadows. Not letting anyone guess at their intention until it’s time to pounce.
For me, that time was tonight.
I've noticed her for days. She's a regular on Friday nights and she's always with those two women. Occasionally, a man would join them, but he seems to be into the auburn haired friend.
Grace is always alone.
I'd learned her name only a few days ago when her friends had celebrated her birthday here. But I'd planned to pursue her a month before that. But now, two and a half months later, it's finally time for the kill. Her friends had noticed me tonight. I'd purposely stood in the limelight, trying to grab her attention. Grace had noticed me. And for the short instant that her wild green eyes had met mine, I'd wanted nothing more than to bend her over the bar and take her with the fury of a predator on the hunt, the club and its people be damned.
But I held on to my sanity for a little while longer.
"Bella Signora," I came up behind her as I found her alone on the dance floor for the first time; saw an involuntary shudder pass through her. "May I have a dance?"
Her wide eyes reminded me of a childhood story. Like little Red riding hood finally realizing that the big bad wolf has taken over her territory and now it's about to eat her. Oh, I intend to do a lot more than just that and I'm very sure a lot of them could get me behind bars. But the rest can wait. Tonight, I want to take a slow, delicious bite that would make her scream for more.
Grace
I looked up at the mountain of a man with the sexy Italian accent. This close, I could smell the scent of his cologne and it was the most intoxicating thing I'd ever smelled. Cinnamon and other spices with a fresh burst of lime, along with an undertone of something dark and sexy.
"Surreee...." I slurred. And it had little to do with the alcohol and everything to do with the man mountain standing in front of me, drugging my senses.
But he didn't dance with me. "You're drunk." He frowned, narrowing those deep blue eyes at me, making me feel like a misbehaving school girl.
"I'm sorrryy..." I must be really drunk if I'm apologizing for being drunk.
"Come with me." He took a hold of my arm and for an agonizing second, it felt like electricity sizzled when our skin connected. But he must not have felt it because I was being dragged to the bar behind him while I admired his fine toned ass through his dress pants. Oddly, I had a sudden urge to slap it.
I raised my arms a fraction, my target the taunt mound of his butt cheeks, but found myself facing him the next instant, both my arms held tightly behind my back. "Later Caro. You'll get all the time you want to do whatever you please, but I need you functional for that. I want you to remember everything that happens tonight."
Gods! Can his accent get any sexier? I grinned up at him, completely forgetting what he'd just said.
He let go of my hands with a smirk and with a firm grip on my waist, set me up on a bar stool. He then motioned to the bartender, who set a glass in front of me with a whitish kinda liquid with three lemon slices at the bottom and one on the rim of the whiskey glass.
"What's this?" I frowned, leaning in closer to inspect the liquid. When I couldn't figure it out, I sniffed the glass. Nope, still no clue. All I could smell was the lime.
A few giggles drew my attention to a couple of girls on the dance floor who were giving my man mountain some serious come hither looks. "Hey!" I yelled over the blaring music, making their heads snap towards me...along with a couple others. "Find your own hook up, he's mine!" For some reason, I did something completely antithetical of my character.
Next to me, my hook-up chuckled, the sound deep and throaty.
"Drink." The fishy white glass was held in front of my face.
"Is it drugs?" I ask him.
"No, it's something to make you feel better." He whirled the liquid in the glass, the lemon slices sloshing around with the liquid. "Bottoms up."
"Okay." I finally took the glass from him and without hesitating, gulped it down in one go. And then I was coughing up my intoxication.
"Lemon and ginger juice." I heard him say as he rubbed my back. "It'll help you sober up."
Too bad I already felt plenty sober with his hands on my bare skin. I'd worn a short green dress tonight that reached just above my knees and it had a plunging back, so most of my skin was already exposed to his touch. It was as if he deliberately moved his hands in slow circles to get a better feel.
"Now, how about that dance?" I asked; my voice less slurry.
He didn't answer, just slipped his hand down my arm and entwined his fingers with mine. Tugging me down the stool, he spun me into his chest, all hard muscles and intoxicating heat.
He dipped me so suddenly, I had no choice but to clutch his biceps, nails digging painfully into bulging muscles. He didn't complain. Eyes half shadowed by the dark hair that fell over his forehead, he brought me up, spun me for a half circle before pulling me closer and setting his hands on my hips. The music was loud, pop-metal or something, but somehow, he kept pace with the tune without going too fast or too slow.
I slid my arms up to his shoulders and locked my fingers at his nape. Our faces were so close that I could smell the slight scent of whiskey in his breath. He pulled me even closer to his body so there wasn't even room for air between us.
Everything about him was intriguing. The dark hair that fell on his forehead was like liquid silk, so soft and smooth that I couldn't help but tangle my fingers through them. His lashes cast light shadows on his cheek and his lips were so full and plum that before I realized what I was doing, I had crashed my lips to his, tugging his head down with a firm grip on his hair. My mind went completely blank.
He didn't waste any time in taking control of the kiss. He devoured my lips with his and then he sucked my lower lip into his mouth only to release it with a sweet, wet sound that sent blood gushing straight down to my core. One of his hands slid to my butt, squeezing the soft mound of my cheeks, while the other lifted one legs off the ground and wrapped it around his waist. Then he rode his hands up my thigh, taking my dress along with him and stopped short of my hips.
I threw my head back, breaking the kiss as his palms molded my butt cheeks and he took advantage of it by traversing a short, wet path from the valley between my breast and back to my mouth...with his tongue. I gasped, which led him to thrust his tongue into my mouth, tasting every nook and cranny and entwining his tongue with mine.
Dance floor sex! I wonder what that would feel like? To be taken in the midst of all these people?
As if reading my thoughts, he lifted his face from mine, his eyes now a smoldering electric blue, drowned in passion. "As much as I like the idea, tonight, you belong only to me."
His words sent a shiver down my spine, my body already feeling the lack as he let go of me. I was about to complain, but the slow smirk playing on his lips told me he wasn't teasing. "It's time to head upstairs." He said in his heavily accented English.
One thing I was sure of, I'd never forget this night for my entire lifetime.
EpilogueTatiana’s P.O.V5 Years later...“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to Diana, Tony and Abigail! Happy birthday to you!”As all of us clapped, our three precious girls, all four years old, Diana and Abigail with their father’s dark hair and Tony with her mother’s blonde locks, blew out the candles to the humongous cake we had ordered and dived right into it without offering us any.“Girls!” Grace’s stern voice was heard over the infectious giggles. “What happened to staying clean until dinner?”“Sorry, aunty!” Those came from Diana and Tony.“Sorry, mummy!”That came from Abigail.All three spoke at the same time in between little giggles before diving back into the cake and stuffing their chubby little cheeks with chocolate frosting. Even at four,
Chapter 65:Tatiana’s P.O.VA constant beeping noise cut through the haziness in my mind and woke me up from my peaceful slumber.I tried to open my eyes but they wouldn’t budge and my throat felt raw and itchy. I needed water. Where was I? It was so blissfully quiet in here. I didn’t want to wake up. I wanted to stay right here, forever.Scream! Scream louder, you whore!My eyes snapped open as everything that happened came back to me. Connor! He had hurt me! He had tried to kill me! Then why wasn't I dead? Where was I? Why was everything so hazy and white?Tia!Damien! He had been there! He had come for me! Is that why I was still alive? Was I in a hospital?“Nurse! She’s awake!” Someone yelled from next to me, making me wince. The sound was too loud.And just like that, the quiet was gone and everything around me buzzed into activity. The next thing
Chapter 64:Damien’s P.O.VAs soon as we reached the hospital, Tia was immediately rushed to the operating theatre. Daniel and Victor went on to fill all the necessary documents while I waited outside with Grace and Kendra and watched as the lights turned red and several doctors and nurses entered the theatre, ready to operate on Tia.“It’s going to be okay, Grace,” I heard Kendra assure her as the two women huddled together at one corner. “Ty’s strong; she’s always been a fighter. She’ll pull through. She has to.”“I know. She’ll make it. I know...” Grace spoke before she broke down in Kendra’s arms.I collapsed on the chair opposite to them, too exhausted and emotionally drained to comfort either women. But thankfully, their husbands returned on time and took them into their arms, whispering sweet nothings into their ears as they held t
Chapter 63:Damien’s P.O.V“Tia!”I’d heard the strangled cry for help just a second ago and it momentarily frozen me on the spot. She was hurt and I had no doubt that her ex was in there with her, torturing her as I stood and wasted my time ringing the doorbell. I couldn’t see anyone else in the apartment next to hers and I didn’t have time to call for help. I looked around the door, trying to find a rational place where the spare key might be since it wasn't under the welcome mat, but my mind wasn't working properly. So I did the only thing I could, I took a few steps back and ran into the door with all my strength.The door jerked but it was strong, it came back to its original position and wouldn’t budge. So I tried again, and again. Fear and anger had gripped me in a chocking hold at the fact that while I was wasting time trying to break down the door, something bad was happe
Chapter 62:Tatiana’s P.O.VI was woken up from my nightmare by someone throwing ice cold water on my face.I blinked and opened my eyes but my vision was blurred. What was wrong? Why was my head hurting so much? Why couldn’t I reach for my head? My hands felt like they were tied behind my back in an uncomfortable position.The pounding in my head increased with every breath I took until it was almost unbearable. Something must be wrong! Why couldn’t I see properly? All I saw was through a red haze.And then, almost like a lightning bolt had hit me, I remembered exactly what had happened. Connor, my ex-boyfriend and abuser was here in my apartment and he had been waiting for me to show up. I’d tried to run as soon as I’d seen him sitting on my bed with a knife in his hand, but he had been faster and he’d caught hold of my hair and given me a hard shove where I’d fallen face
Chapter 61:Tatiana’s P.O.VThe cab dropped me off at my doorstep and I collected my baggage and entered my apartment building. But as soon as I stepped into the elevator, an unknown fear clutched at my stomach.I shook it off, thinking that it might be a post break-up trauma kind of thing. Then again, I was never Damien’s girlfriend to begin with. How could it be a post-breakup trauma if I wasn’t even in a relationship?Swallowing the lump in my throat, I exited the elevator and took out my apartment keys from my pocket and unlocked the door, but as soon as I stepped into my apartment, something felt off.Deciding not to take any chances, I stepped out of the door and reached my hand up to the 204 sign above my door. Not many people knew but it was my secret place to hide my spare key. I carefully unscrewed the bottom nail with my fingers and since it was a designer nail, it came out easily. Ther