Atone (The Disciples 2)

The upstairs is quiet and no one’s around. Not that I care if anyone sees her. But I’m not in the mood to talk. I glance down at Charlie. Her long black hair cascades down her back and her golden eyes look tired as she bites her red lips. She’s everything I find desirable. I guess that’s why she stands at the door of my room, slightly nervous.

Rather than opening it, I lean on the door. “Why are you putting yourself in dangerous situations?”

She frowns and huffs as she bangs her back against the wall. “All I was doing was playing pool. I never go out.” She turns and looks me straight in the eyes. “Never. I work almost every day.” She shrugs. “So, I got my hair done. Cindy wanted to go out. Turns out she needs money. She knew I played pool and that I was good.” She throws her hands out. “That was it. I had some drinks and made some money.”

I stare at her. She’s telling the truth; it’s all in the eyes. I open the door to my room, flip on the light, then gently guide her inside. Her brows pull together in confusion as she stands at the entrance, hands behind her back.

“Here.” I reach for a bottle of water. I have two twenty-four bundled bottles stacked in the corner that I got at Costco.

“Bathroom’s there.” I point and guzzle a bottle of water as I pull off my shirt.

“Wait… what? I’m seeing double. Are you getting undressed?” She sounds shocked and I can’t help but grin as I toss my cut and T-shirt on a cardboard box.

“Turn off the light when you’re done.” I unbutton my pants and kick off my boots as she stands, mouth open, clutching her bottle of water to her chest.

“I… you want me to sleep with you… here?” Her voice cracks, and this time, I do smile as I walk over to her. She backs into the wall with a small thud.

“I’m tired. I’ll take you home in the morning.”

It’s not particularly nice and her disappointment that I’m going to bed reads all over her face.

A long time ago, I would have loved her looking at me like that. As if I was worthy, maybe even special. Now it makes me uncomfortable. There is nothing but self-loathing and pain in this body.

The fact that I even brought her here is a testament that she’s dangerous but only to herself. Even though I want her, I will walk away.

“Go,” I groan as my cock hardens and her eyes dart down to it. It’s not quite at full length, but it’s on its way. I watch her face as she stares, her puffy lips sucking in air, and I harden even more.

Her face turns pink in seconds and her breath, which comes in short hisses, smells like liquor.

Her eyes lock with mine and it’s all there for me. Her light. It spills out of her, and for a second, I let it penetrate me. But she doesn’t need my shit. I shouldn’t have brought her here. It’s not fair to either one of us. I step back and turn toward my bed.

“David?” her voice is soft, almost pleading.

“Don’t forget to turn off the light.”CHARLIEMy eyes pop open. I’m warm and peaceful. And for a moment, I almost panic. Where the fuck am I?

Then it all comes back to me, much the way it feels when a snowball hits you smack in the face. Yep, that’s how I feel.

I groan in horror. Why do I ever drink? Snippets of last night make me groan again. His large, tan hand tightens around my ass, and I inhale through my nose, absorbing his scent. The room is dark and a small amount of light peeks under the curtain. For a second, I allow myself the fantasy that this is how I wake up every morning.

My body feels hot, almost burning, as I wiggle closer to him. I’m dressed, and he pulls me closer throwing a naked, muscled leg over me.

“Jesus,” I whisper, fighting back the temptation to touch his pure perfection.

I breathe in and out. I can’t get distracted by all that is David. I need to stay focused and remember that I’m lying in bed with a man who has been missing for close to nine years.

And let’s not sugarcoat it. He’s angry, closed off, and somewhat scary. Despite all that, I grit my teeth as my body responds to his scent. It’s clean and slightly smoky, and I can’t help but clench, my panties becoming wet.

Jesus, what time is it? He grunts and his mouth, which rests against my neck, starts to lick and suck.

“Oh God,” I whisper and freeze. Secretly, this is what I want, need, even crave, but is he healthy for me? I’m already borderline obsessed with everything about him, even his damaged parts—especially his damaged parts.