Did they find the witness? Did he not tell the same story? I’m so lost in my chaotic thoughts, I almost miss the bus. I find a seat at the very back so there’s nothing but the wall behind me and keep my eye on everything in front of me.
It takes over an hour to reach my stop. Stepping out into the night, I get my bearings and head off in the direction of the street the horror house is built upon, patting my purse to make sure my gun is inside. Would I get away with another self-defense situation? Have I gotten away with the first one? Fear creeps up my spine, tightening a hand around my throat. I’m on borrowed time if the witness comes forward.
The house comes into view, standing out from the rest. The lawn is overgrown, and the worn paint makes it looks derelict. Keeping to the shadows, I watch for signs of someone living there. There are no cars out front or lights on. A shiver moves through me like the wind. The tremor in my hands is back. I check my surroundings, the dark shadows moving, taunting. My eyes scan every movement, every car. My heart sinks.
Adams’ car.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Parked down the street not twenty feet away.
He’s following me.
I take off in the opposite direction and dip down a side road, my eyes landing on a park. His engine taunts me as I try to lose him. Going through the park will force him to follow on foot or meet me at the other end. I’ll have to cut through the brush and hop a fence to avoid capture.
Shit.
How is this happening?
Footsteps fall in line behind me, and my stomach bottoms out. It’s over. Turning abruptly, I throw my hood down and swallow my fear. The figure is about fifteen feet from me, but I know it’s him, I sense him. “Why are you following me?” I call out. Silence hangs between us. It’s eerie being in a park after dark. There’s no one else around, just the moon and treeline for company. And him.
He begins moving toward me, sending a wave of anxiety and heat rolling over me. When his face becomes visible, a weird sense of peace settles through me.
“Was it you in the locker room today?” I find myself asking. His jaw is like steel. “Answer me,” I demand.
“Yes.”
“Like what you saw, Detective?” I hold his gaze, my chest heaving with nerves and excitement. He was watching me shower.
Taking another step toward me, closing the gap, he shuts his eyes, his brow collapsing. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Oh, don’t be weak now, Detective. Own your perversions,” I goad.
“I’m not a pervert—and why are you calling me that?” he snaps, his posture rigid.
“It’s what you are.” I sigh, my chest deflating.
“Not to you.” Another step. “To you, I’m Adams.”
“Are you? Why are you following me, Adams?” My voice is hoarse with this insane lust. Danger.
“Because you’re consuming me.” He shakes his head. “I can’t think about anything fucking else,” he growls. “If you even knew the shit I’ve done.” He jabs out a pointed finger, dropping eye contact.
“What do you mean?”
Looking around, he asks, “What the hell are you doing out here?”
“It’s complicated.” I bite my lip, crossing my arms, the cold breeze doing nothing to cool my fever.
“Uncomplicate it,” he rumbles, taking another step. We’re almost touching. His frame is so big, intense. No one would even know if he were to take me into the trees and have his way with me. There’s an energy barely contained between us.
“Take me home?” I ask.
Cupping my cheek, his brow pinches and a frown borders his lips. Storm clouds rage in his eyes. “Why do I want you so bad, Lola?”
All the air flees my lungs as need pools between my thighs. Placing my hand over his, I drag it from my cheek to my lips and kiss his palm before sucking his middle finger into my mouth. He gasps, his breathing accelerating. Slipping it free, I move it down my body.
“Maybe because you can sense how bad I want you too,” I murmur, pushing his hand into the waistband of my jeans.
Like a mad man taking over, he grabs me by the back of my neck, forcing me against him. A hunger inside him spills free. He eats me alive. Lips crashing down on mine, tasting, biting, sucking while his finger slides through my folds and pushes inside me, stilling my breath.
Fingers fuck me hard, relentlessly taking me over the edge. “Adams,” I moan, almost crying at the need to come.
“Fuck, I need to taste you.” He places his forehead against mine and pulls free from my body, inhaling his fingers. An inhuman growl rips from his lungs. Laughter rings out from the other end of the park, a couple walking in the distance.
“I need you to fuck me,” I beg him. The pain in his eyes almost buckles my knees.
“Fuck,” he barks out, dragging me into the small gathering of trees. Pinning me against a trunk, he yanks my jeans down my thighs and I kick them away. My panties tear with a quick jerk of his fist. Balling them up, he shoves them in my mouth.
“You’re going to need to bite down, little lamb.” My eyes widen, and my mouth floods with saliva. Panting heavily, he jerks his slacks down, lifts me, then lowers me onto his hard, bulging cock. His mushroom head pushes inside me, stretching my pussy. My wet juices coat him with every inch he thrusts. I’ve never taken a dick this big before. It hurts in the most delicious of burns. Once I’m seated to the hilt, my stomach aches and legs shake. I moan around
