Beautiful Killer Read online

  I’d take a wild guess and say Sunshine preferred to do everything herself. She didn’t like to ask for help. A woman like her wouldn’t be alone. How could she be? She’d have family, friends, a man. If she needed help, there’d be people she could ask. But she didn’t. Why?

  Finally, she stood and walked quickly to the other side of the room and took a seat at one of the empty tables. I finished my drink and ordered a beer. I needed to leave, but for some reason I couldn’t make myself get up and go. I also couldn’t stop looking at her every so often over the next hour. She stayed alone during that time, but her eyes darted to the door whenever it opened, like she was expecting someone. Several guys approached her, but she sent them on their way.

  Surely she hadn’t been stood up?

  Who the fuck would stand her up? What kind of an idiot would miss the chance to spend time with her?

  I forced myself to turn away and took a sip of my beer, but it didn’t last long, and I was looking back at her table a short time later.

  This time, though, the table was empty. She was gone.

  The sudden urge to jump out of my seat and rush out of the bar after her, to follow her, make sure she got home safe, hit me unexpectedly.

  What the hell was wrong with me? I kept my ass glued to my seat even as my thigh muscles bunched preparing to propel me across the room and out the door . . .

  The stool beside me creaked, followed by a wave of vanilla. I knew who was sitting beside me instantly. And shit, I was right, she smelled amazing.

  The stool creaked again. “Um . . . hi, I’m Sunny.”

  Her voice was soft, had a little bit of a rasp to it that sent tingles across my shoulders and over my scalp. I turned in my seat, my gaze sliding to the woman who now sat beside me. I glanced around us. She couldn’t be talking to me. Why the hell would she? But she was. Her eyes didn’t dart away this time, they widened slightly, but they stayed on me.

  I stared back.

  A blush crawled up her cheeks and a smile curled her full lips. “This is the part where you tell me your name.”

  What the hell was this?

  Her smile started to slip. “Do you . . .” She aimed her thumb to the exit. “Should I go?”

  I shook my head, before I could stop myself. I didn’t want her to go any-fucking-where.

  Sunny.

  Shit, of course that was her name.

  Her smile came back. She wasn’t looking at me anymore, but I could see the curve of her lips as she ordered another glass of wine.

  I’d never seen anyone like her in my life.

  She turned in her seat when she had her drink and crossed her legs, resting an elbow on the bar, those violet eyes back to me. “Well, that’s the last time I agree to a blind date.” She laughed and shook her head and more of her vanilla scent hit me as her hair slid over her shoulders. “Why do I do these things to myself?”

  Jesus. Her laugh was the sweetest thing I’d ever heard. I shook my head. I didn’t get why the hell she’d need to?

  “Gloria, one of my ladies at the Ashwood Retirement Home . . .” She waved her hand in the air—like I’d asked a question, when in actual fact I was sitting there like a dumb fuck, with my mouth glued shut—before she carried on, “I go in Monday afternoons and teach arts and crafts . . . anyway, Gloria set me up with her grandson. Apparently, he’s an artist and she thought we’d get on. I guess he didn’t agree.” She took a sip of her wine. “Whatever, right?”

  I nodded. It was all I was capable of.

  “You never told me your name?”

  “Zeke,” I said.

  She smiled at that, knocking the wind from my lungs.

  We carried on talking for a little while, her mainly, but I actually managed a couple short and thankfully coherent sentences.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off her, which meant I noticed a short time later when her hands started to tremble slightly that she’d gone quiet. Her gorgeous eyes were taking me in as well, moving over me, and her breathing had grown faster.

  I don’t know why, but mine did the same. My pulse picked up speed.

  “Zeke, I’m going to ask you a question,” she said finally, voice soft, a slight husk to it that hit me in the gut. “Your answer will decide my fate tonight.”

  I had no idea what she was talking about. Her hand moved from her glass and curled around my forearm. I jolted, like she shocked me. That, combined with her wide eyes locked on mine, and I was frozen in place.

  “I’ve never done this before . . . but, there’s something about you . . . and I . . .” She took a deep breath. “Would you like to . . . I was wondering if you . . .”

  I held my breath. No goddamn way was she going to ask me to . . .

  “Come home with me tonight . . .” she finished.

  I still wasn’t fucking breathing.

  She stared at me, brows raised, a hopeful expression on her face. “Zeke?”

  I should back off, let her walk out of here and forget this ever happened.

  But I couldn’t do it.

  For some messed up reason this beautiful, sexy, vibrant woman, wanted me. She wanted to feel my mouth, my scarred, rough-as-hell hands on her perfect skin. Shit, maybe I was dreaming. Maybe this wasn’t even real.

  Her fingers slid from my arm, taking her warmth from me.

  Real. So fucking real.

  She bit her lip, disappointment replacing hope, and started to rise from her stool, about to get up and walk off. If that happened, I’d more than likely never see her again.

  My mouth opened before I knew I was doing it. “Yes.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Sunny

  My hand shook as I took my key from my purse. Zeke’s dominating presence was at my back, he’d been there since we left the bar, always one step behind me. He hadn’t said anything more, not since he’d bitten out that low, gravely, “Yes,” to my . . . proposition. Not even when I realized I left the keys to my house at the shop and we had to take a detour before heading to my place. He just nodded his head and went where I directed him.

  I still couldn’t believe I was doing this—or how much I wanted to do this. God, I could feel his gaze on me, intense, unwavering. Those eyes hadn’t left me. Not all evening. I’d felt them slide over me as soon as I walked in the bar. Yes, I got looks and comments often. I’d known since I was thirteen years old that men found me attractive. But there was something different about the way Zeke watched me, like he was trying to see more—like he was trying to see beyond the face and the wild blond hair. Maybe I was just imagining things, seeing what I wanted to. I didn’t know. All I knew was that potent gaze had drawn me in, like I was compelled. I’d been powerless against it. Yes, he made me nervous, the guy was kind of scary. But not in a way I felt threatened. I didn’t know how to explain how I felt. The man fascinated me. The way he seemed to quietly observe, the untamed quality he had, the raw, rough edge.

  Zeke made my belly squirm in a really freaking good way.

  I’d watched him watch people, assessing, the way he stared at anyone that got near, warning them off without a word. That should have kept me away as well, but for the first time in a long time, I’d been driven to take a risk, because something in me said this man would be worth it—even if it was only for one night. I couldn’t imagine him letting many people close, it was just the vibe he gave off. The fact he’d said, “Yes,” when I’d asked him to come home with me, made me feel that for tonight at least, I was special.

  I was wanted.

  Something I hadn’t felt in a very long time.

  He moved closer behind me, leaning in, and I froze. My hair shifted, just a fraction at my shoulder, followed by the sound of him drawing in a deep breath. Oh God. The silent predator at my back was scenting me. His prey. It was one of the sexiest things I’d ever experienced in my life. He hadn’t even touched me yet and I was more turned on than I’d ever been in my whole entire life.

  “The door,” he said, voice intensely deep, gritty as
all get-out.

  And God, that Texas drawl made my belly quiver. “Right,” I whispered.

  Somehow, I managed to get the key in the lock and push the door open, leading him inside my townhouse. It wasn’t huge, one of the smaller ones in this area, and I liked it that way. I’d lived in empty, lonely, sprawling mansions my whole life. I’d hated it, and as soon as I was able to, I moved out and got this place.

  We moved into the living room off the entranceway, and I turned to watch him taking in my home. I’d only just met him, but I knew that’s what he’d been doing. I didn’t think Zeke missed a thing. I could see his mind working behind those extremely dark eyes, and I wondered what he was thinking. What he thought of the little oasis I’d created for myself. My safe haven. I refrained from asking, barely. Zeke was tall, lean, and even without touching him I knew he’d be hard, muscular. His dirty blond hair was in need of a trim and a little messy. It suited him . . . and so did the beard. It was a little longer at the chin, shorter across his cheeks, and I couldn’t help wondering how it would feel against my skin.

  Belly quiver number two was a go.

  Yes, the man in front of me was perfection. Rough, gritty perfection.

  I dropped my purse on my little antique French Louis XV-style side table—I’d inherited it from my mother, and it was my favorite piece in the house—and tried to keep my nerves in check. “Would you like a drink?”

  His eyes were back on me now and he shook his head.

  The way he was looking at me set off belly quiver number three. “Perhaps something to eat?”

  He shook his head again, and good lord I could feel it, the potent, dizzying energy radiating off him.

  My belly whooshed. The quivers a thing of the past. My heart was beating so fast and hard, I could feel my pulse thudding at the side of my throat.

  “Why don’t you take a seat. I’ll be . . . I’ll be right back.” I rushed from the room and hit the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I stared at myself in the mirror. “You can do this, Sunny. You want this,” I said to my reflection. Take something for yourself. You deserve it. You deserve a night with the sexy predator standing in your living room. You deserve to be ravaged. I stifled a nervous giggle.

  My smile slipped in the mirror. How long had it been since I’d been touched? Since I’d had a man’s hands on me? How long had it been since I’d had another human being in my home? Too long. I didn’t do relationships, of any kind, not anymore. Besides the people at the Ashwood Retirement Home, where I volunteered, I stuck to myself. Other women tended to resent me, judged me for the way I looked. Men judged me, too, and their judgment was usually wrong. They saw me as the stereotypical ditsy blond. A pretty, empty shell. My last romantic relationship had been a disaster. I hadn’t had much luck with relationships in any aspect of my life, actually. People kind of just . . . left. They left me.

  I’d grown used to my solitude.

  No, I didn’t know Zeke, but I didn’t need to. He intrigued me, fascinated me. He would leave, but that was okay. I knew how this worked and I was fine with it.

  But God, I needed it.

  I needed him.

  Tonight, I needed what I knew only he could give me.

  No more hiding in the bathroom. I pulled the door open and walked back out. Zeke hadn’t moved. He was still standing exactly where I left him. He watched me as I walked toward him, and I got the feeling he thought I might have changed my mind, that he expected me to tell him to leave. I shook my head, answering the unspoken question I saw in his expression. He made a low sound, a cross between a growl and a grunt. Liquid heat curled low. Jesus, he was all man. Everything about him pure, raw male. Like a warrior, or a knight from some story book.

  Drawing on my courage, I kept walking, until I was standing right in front of him. His hands were at his sides, still not touching me. I lifted mine slowly, exactly like you would if you approached a wild animal, and pressed them against his chest. Oh yes, hard. Like I knew it would be, and hot. His skin burned through his shirt. I felt a tremor move through his powerful frame and looked up. His nostrils flared, heat igniting behind his dark mahogany irises.

  “You’re very tall,” I said.

  He didn’t answer, it wasn’t a question.

  “I’d like to kiss you, but I can’t reach your mouth,” I said, my face heating.

  He turned away from me, wide chest expanding sharply, and for a moment I thought he might leave, but he didn’t, he walked to the couch, sat down on it, leaned back, and waited. He was going to let me take the lead. The achy pulse between my thighs intensified and I squeezed my legs together. I may be out of practice, but there was no reason to hesitate. That was the beauty of a one-night stand, right? Not that I’d ever had one before, but that’s what I was telling myself. I approached him like the wild creature he was. Suddenly not sure if he’d pounce or bolt. He did neither. He watched me, scorching me with all that heat burning from him. I leaned forward, resting my hands on his shoulders then climbed into his lap, straddling his hips. My heart was pounding so hard, I struggled to breathe. He felt amazing. All hard, brutal strength.

  His arms moved to give me room when I climbed on and were now along the back of the couch, still not touching me. I curled my fingers around the side of his neck, my breath coming in shallow pants as I leaned in, desperate to taste him, the wildness of him . . .

  Then my lips were against his. The muscles in his chest tightened against mine as I move my mouth over his. His lips were as firm as the rest of him. For a moment, he wasn’t kissing me back, and I thought he wasn’t going to . . . then he made another of those rough sounds and leaned in, pushing back. I opened my mouth on a moan. At the touch of his tongue against mine, my body went up in a ball of molten flames. I pressed closer, curling my arms around his neck, my breasts pressing tighter, rubbing against him.

  His hands still weren’t on me and I needed them. Now. If it wasn’t for the very obvious bulge I could feel through his jeans and the hungry way he was kissing me back, I might start to worry that he didn’t want me. But there was and he was. I tore my mouth away from his, sliding my hand up the side of his throat, to the back if his head, fisting his hair lightly. “Zeke . . . please, will you touch me?”

  One of his hands instantly lifted from the back of the couch and thrust into my hair at my nape, the other went to the side of my ass, like he’d been waiting for my permission all this time. I expected him to pull me back in for another kiss, but he didn’t. His eyes slid over my face, my hair, down to my neck then back up. The way he looked at me . . . I felt beautiful in a way I never had in my life. I smiled, I couldn’t help it. He stared at my mouth as I did then made a low, long sound, and with all that sexy roughness he had going on, it made me think of a purring jungle cat. His fingers tightened in my hair and he pulled me closer, again not going for my mouth. Instead he buried his face against my shoulder then dragged his nose up the side of my neck, mouth stopping at my ear. “You smell like vanilla,” he said, voice gruff.

  My nipples tightened even more, started tingling almost painfully, and goose bumps broke out across my skin. This man . . . good lord. He was raw, intense, wild . . . beautiful. And I got the feeling what was about to happen between us was going to be the same. Maybe it was silly, but I knew whatever happened tonight would be life altering for me. That should scare me, but right then, it didn’t. Because this man, this stranger, made me feel safe, precious, wanted like I never had before—in a way I never had before.

  He needed me as much as I needed him tonight. I didn’t know how I knew that, I just did.

  I waited to see what he’d do next, then I felt those rough hands move to my hips, up until his thumbs slid under my shirt, brushed against my bare skin. A needy moan slipped out, just from that feel of his skin against mine. Then he was fisting my shirt and dragging it up, pulling it off, flinging it aside. His hands dropped back to my waist, and his hungry stare followed them. I sucked in a sharp breath, his palms and fingerti
ps like fine sandpaper, and so hot, as they moved higher, up to my ribs until his thumbs grazed the undersides of my breasts.

  My breathing was erratic as his eyes lifted to mine, as he cupped one in his large hand, and applied pressure. His thumb came back into play, sliding, grazing my aching nipple. I was panting as I reached back and unclasped my bra, and his own breathing quickened as well as I dragged it down my arms and bared myself to him. The way he looked at me, it stole my breath.

  His fingers dug into my ribs. “Room?”

  I blinked down at him, trying to unscramble my brain.

  “Room, Sunshine. Now.”

  Sunshine.

  There went my belly again. Flipping and whooshing and . . .

  He tightened his hands again and lifted me off his lap, obviously getting impatient.

  I snapped out of my daze—well kind of—took his hand and led him upstairs to my room. I wanted him in my bed, too. I wanted to be able to press my nose to my sheets tomorrow night and smell him there when this was all over. Was that weird? Probably. I didn’t care.

  We were at my bedroom door and I turned, walking backward toward the bed. He released my hand and reached back, dragging his shirt off . . .

  Holy . . . wow.

  I sucked in a sharp breath. There was barely an ounce of fat on him, he was strength and sinew and raw muscle. His abdominal muscles were defined, the V at his hips arrowing down, disappearing beneath his low-slung jeans. His skin was marked with scars, one on his stomach that looked fairly recent.

  Zeke was dangerous.

  Maybe that should concern me. It didn’t. It turned me on more. Nothing mattered right then but having him inside me.

  I unzipped my boots and kicked them aside, then my jeans and pushed them down. He watched me the whole time. Until I stood in only my panties and jewelry. He didn’t wait for me to ask this time, he prowled toward me, lifted me off the ground like I weighed nothing, which I did not, then dropped me on the bed, coming down on top of me. And when his mouth came down on mine, there was a desperation to it, like he wanted everything, would take everything, because after tonight we’d go our separate ways and he didn’t want to miss one damn thing. I felt the same way. He knew as well as I that there was something profound between us, but despite that, it didn’t change anything, it couldn’t.