Page 6 of Beautiful Killer

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.