Descent (Black Heart Romance)

She doesn’t go to her bathroom to get dressed for bed. She goes to her bedroom. Since I have a camera set up in there, I get to watch as she drops the towel thinking she’s all alone. Her back is to me at first, but I certainly don’t mind. The sight of her bare, luscious ass stirs memories of that first night, her ass an upside down heart I could have gazed at forever as I plunged into her tight little body.

Hunger hardens my cock anymore. I’m alone and she’s naked, so I unzip my pants and take my cock out so I can give it a good firm stroke as Hallie turns and I get a view of those lovely tits of hers.

Perfect.

She’s perfect.

It’s harder than it has been any other night since we’ve been apart not to barge in and take her right now. Her tits jiggle as she crosses the room to get panties out of her dresser and I groan, palming my cock harder.

Fuck, I want her.

My blood heats, my self-control slipping.

You could have her.

Yes, I could.

Trying to back up and do the right hasn’t worked at all. If she misses me even slightly, I certainly can’t tell. Every time I glance at my phone, I hope there will be a message from her. Any message, I don’t care what it says, I just need to know that I’ve skated across her mind once since she tried to purge me from her life.

On the monitor, I watch her grab an oversized sleep shirt and pull it on. I miss the sight of her naked body instantly, but I’m still aching with need for her. She could wear a fucking garbage bag and I’d still be convinced she’s the most stunning woman on the planet.

I need to be inside her body again, but I have to satisfy myself with a peek inside her mind. I watch her texting on the monitor, so I grab my clone of her phone to see what’s being said.

“I don’t want to go on this date tomorrow.”

I scowl, seeing the text is from Hallie to her friend Charity.

“You’re going,” Charity texts back, a bulldozer like me. No wonder Hallie likes her.

“I’m not ready,” Hallie states.

Not ready?

I know she means because of me, but I need more details.

I don’t get them because Charity thinks she means she isn’t ready to move on from Jackson.

“Listen babe, dude was a stinky piece of shit and you’re so much better off without him. Imagine missing dog shit you scraped off the bottom of your shoe, because that’s pretty much the equivalent of missing Jackson.”

“Why do you hate him so much?” Hallie texts back. “I mean, I know why I hate him so much (that’s so not what I meant by I’m not ready, btw) but I don’t see why you do.”

“I don’t hate trash, I’m just happy once it’s been taken out. Now, get your hot little ass some sleep tonight because tomorrow you’re meeting your soulmate.”

“Ugh,” Hallie texts back. “I don’t wanna.”

“Too bad!” Charity replies.

I grab the notepad on my desk and jot down a note for myself, then I scroll up because it seems I’ve missed some messages. I knew Charity had mentioned something about Hallie going on a date with some guy she liked for her, but I didn’t realize it was actually happening.

Tomorrow night.

That is quite fucking displeasing.

Once I’m all caught up on the texts I missed and I have all the information I need.

When it was only an idea, it was cute how she thought I’d let her go out with another man.

Now that it’s a reality, I guess I’ll have to show her how very wrong she was.

Chapter Twenty Three

Hallie

Turning in the mirror, I tug at the hem of my red dress and debate changing.

I think it’s too sexy for a date I don’t really want to go on. I’m only wearing the red dress because I really wanted to wear my red slingback pumps, they’re suede and they have a cute, glittery bow on the ankle. They’re kind of Christmassy—in fact, I think I wore this whole ensemble to Jackson’s Christmas party a while back—but I got them at Macy’s on sale last year and I absolutely love them.

When I went out with Calvin, I never got to pick my own outfits, so I never got a chance to wear them. If we could’ve met in a different way and he would have just asked me out like a normal person, I’m sure I would have worn them on a date with him.

Don’t think about him.

It should be easy to never think about him, but he left fingerprints on me, invisible ones I’m finding it hard to shake. Even after I cleared all his stuff out of my apartment and changed the locks so I know I’m safe from him, I still feel him here. I can’t explain it, I don’t even understand it, but it’s like he’s always here, watching me.