Before my thoughts could turn too sexual and violent, her name lit up my screen.
She was calling me.
An arrogant smile spread across my lips. I knew she would give in eventually, but I was surprised she’d taken so long. If she’d waited only a few more days, I probably would have cracked first. I took the call. “Baby.”
She was quiet on her end, like she was ashamed for making the call in the first place.
I loved it when she was ashamed. “I’ve been waiting for those pics.”
“I’m sure you have.”
“Then where are they?”
She turned quiet again.
My dick got hard as I stared at her picture, but it got noticeably harder when I heard her voice. It possessed such a mesmerizing sound, full of power and authority, but also submission and sex. I didn’t need to know what she looked like to know she was beautiful, that she had full, Italian lips that were made for kissing. This woman’s innate sex appeal drove me crazy, and now I understood why her husband wanted her so badly, even if it was obvious she didn’t want him. She could be as dry as a desert, and I would still fuck her. That was what lube was for. “Does that mean you’re coming over?” Maybe she was too humiliated to really address the situation. Maybe she just wanted to show up and screw—and skip the conversation. It was much later in the evening than she would normally contact me, so I didn’t know how she would slip out without raising suspicion.
“No. He’s home.”
Both of my lungs deflated like balloons. “That’s unfortunate.”
“Very,” she said with a sigh. “He’s taking me out tomorrow…something I’m not looking forward to.”
I didn’t care about this woman, but I hated listening to the despair in her voice. She was too beautiful to suffer like this, to live a life that was anything less than perfect. She was an exotic bird stuck in a cage, and she could only appreciate the sun through the window. Every summer day was a mockery to her. “Why are you calling me?” It was an asshole thing to say, but all I knew how to be was an asshole.
“I don’t know…” She paused over the line.
I wasn’t looking to be her confidant or her friend. I was only looking to be her fuck buddy. But the sadness in her voice continued to pull at me, like she had a tight string around my neck, and she was yanking on it. I considered myself to be a fixer because I fixed lots of problems. That was my job—to destroy enemies and issues. It was my primary role as the Skull King. I found myself wanting to fix her problems for her—even though I got nothing in return. I wasn’t Prince Charming who came to a woman’s rescue. I was a dictator, a monster, and a thief. I would more likely steal a woman than save her.
She spoke again. “I was sitting in the dark thinking of you…and I missed you.”
“I could join you in the dark, if you like.”
A smile wasn’t in her voice, not like usual. “I prefer to keep you alive.”
“I’m not alive. I’ve never been alive.” I was a man who walked among the living but slept with the dead. My body was a furnace to cremate my enemies, and I only cared about power and blood lust. “So don’t worry about that.”
“Are you really that brave? Or just stupid?”
“Neither,” I answered. “Just confident.”
“Arrogance is the quickest way to the grave.”
“That’s what they say…but I haven’t seen the cemetery yet.” Now it seemed like we were just talking to stay on the phone. We didn’t discuss anything real, but the continued conversation seemed to ease the pain in her heart. “So…when are you coming over?” I prefer a face-to-face conversation, one where I could be buried deep between her legs with her knees squeezing my hips.
“Never.”
I chuckled into the phone. “Baby, come on. You called me tonight because your fingers are in your panties.”
Her breath hitched, like she’d been caught in the act.
My cock hardened at the thought of her in bed with her hand between her legs. Her husband was in his own bedroom, fast asleep and unaware of his unsatisfied wife. Now she was thinking of me, wanting to get off to the sound of my voice. No matter how hard she tried to resist, her thoughts always came back to me—to the only man she wanted. “You want me.”
Her breathing deepened as her fingers worked her clit. “I always want you…”
I stared at my ceiling as my cock pressed against my boxers. I preferred to smell a woman rather than pretend she was there with me, but the sound of her breathing was enough to get my engine revving. “I want to see you.”