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Emma decided to skip the gym and went home early. It was the last easy decision she made because she found her roommate being raped by the boyfriend. She had two choices. Call the cops and be killed by his family’s mafia connections or kill him first and hope to survive. There was no choice to her. She killed the bastard first and went to the one person who could protect her. Carter Reed. He’s a weapon for the rivaling mafia family, but he’s also Emma’s secret. Not only was he best friends with her brother, but she’s the reason he became that weapon in the first place.
Tijan started writing later in life, after she had already graduated college with a different direction in mind and a different degree under her belt. Hitting the brakes on that path, she taught herself how to write a good book and began posting at sites such as Fictionpress, along with Wattpad. After receiving such encouraging messages from readers, she self-published Fallen Crest High and has continued throughout the year. She continues to keep writing NA books!
"Tell me what happened." His plea was so soft.
I broke. This wasn't the stranger anymore. This was Carter, the boy I had grown up with. I flung my arms around him and pulled him down. Instead of fighting, I clung to him now.
He wrapped his arms around me and rolled to his side. He patted my back and tucked his head into the crook of my neck and shoulder. I felt his lips brush there as he repeated, "You have to tell me. I won't hurt you. I will protect you."
A shudder went through my body. At last. Those were the words I was desperate for. He moved his hands, one sliding down to my hip and the other cradling the back of my head, he pressed into me. The last of my reserve fled then. A gasp escaped me and I pressed against him. I needed him.
Shame flooded me. He knew. What kind of person was I? Fighting, running away, and then starting to tremble in his arms?
His hand started to caress my hip. His fingers slid underneath my shirt and moved under my pants' waistband. He held me there, his hand splayed out. I tried to resist, but I wanted to wind my legs around him. I wanted to pull him on top of me and feel his hand between my legs. But I didn't do anything. I lay there, still, as my heart pounded inside of me. He could feel the beat against him. The thumping drowned everything else out.
He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead and raised himself up again. He looked down at me. The plea in his eyes was still there. As he brushed some of my hair from my forehead, he asked, "Do you not trust me?"
I nodded. "I'm scared of you."
A small grin appeared at the corners of his mouth. "You are?"
"I don't know who you are anymore." I couldn't believe I was admitting any of that, but I needed to trust someone. I had to if I was going to survive what I had done. Feeling a little bit brave, I touched his chest. My hand spread out like his was on my back. His heart was steady. I murmured, "I know who you are. I know you're the Cold Killer. I know what you did for AJ." A tear slipped from the corner of my eye. It fell unheeded. "I always wanted to thank you for that."
"It was you that time before," I gasped as Carter's lips brushed against my neck. He lingered on my pulse. His tongue swept against it as I tried to turn around to him. I needed to feel him against me, between my legs, but his arms tightened around me. He moved behind me and pressed into me.
He murmured against my skin, "It was me."
I clasped a hand over his on the other side of my neck and held it there, claiming him, as I turned in his arms. His hand slid across the front of me and I saw him. His eyes were dark with lust and need. I knew he saw the same in me, but I didn't care any longer. I needed him, but I remembered that night. My roommate left and I'd been alone until I felt someone behind me. The liquor in me hadn't been enough to turn off all my inhibitions, but they had helped. My skin sizzled as I thought of that night again, how it had been him behind me.
He whispered against my skin as he lowered his head, "I was in the security room. I saw you on the cameras and couldn't help myself." His arms slid around to my back. He pressed a hand to my hip and anchored me against him.
I gasped as he pressed his hips into me, but then he lifted and carried me to the corner.
It was the same as that night.
He held me suspended in the air, so I wound my legs around his waist. I felt him even more against me and then his hands slid under the edge of my dress, to the inside of my thighs. He felt the string of my thong, in the apex between my legs, and started to rub against it.
Desire and pleasure rushed through me. I was feverish for him. I held on, urging him to do more. My hips began to move in rhythm with his hand and it wasn't long before he swept my dress up and his hand was against my skin.
"Carter," I whispered, my back and throat arched for him.
He placed a kiss there, licking.
Images of the two of us flashed in my mind and I grew wet again. He was going to be the death of me. A part of me knew that once I felt him inside of me, it wouldn't be enough. I would want more. I would never be satisfied, and when he made me come, that'd only been the teaser. My body was primed and ready again. My hand slid down his muscular back. It felt all the ridges, all the dips and curves. A dark pleasure spread through me when I felt his muscles contract as he turned his head to see me.
This was mine.
He was mine.
He groaned and had me against the wall in a second. His hands grabbed my hips and positioned me at an angle before he slammed his into mine. I felt the bulge in front of his pants. That was for me. All for me. He bent over me and lowered his lips just above mine as he thrust against me.
I couldn't breathe. My hands held onto his arms. The muscles there also moved underneath my touch, as if wanting more.
"This," he growled in a whisper against my lips. "This is what I wanted that night. I couldn't contain myself and I had to taste you, but tonight is the night I really have you. You're mine, Emma. You always have been."
I nodded, so weak against his touch.
He was mine as well, but I didn't say it. Not yet, though everything in my body was aching for me to do so.
He took my hand again and led the way out into the hallway. People stopped and watched us as we left. I knew it was because of him. Carter was lethal. His body was carved and molded to perfection. His eyes were cold while his face resembled an angel's. Everyone knew who he was, where he had come from. Even the media went into a frenzy when he was seen in public. However, he moved like a ghost, how he trained his men to be, so those moments were rare, and this moment wasn't any different. His staff had seen him before, but they all went quiet in the presence of a deadly panther.
A wave of possession rocked through me. My legs shook as I remembered my climax. This creature who held my hand was mine, as I was his. I belonged to him and I gasped in silence as I felt his claim sink into my blood. It went deep to the bones. Everything in me belonged to him, and as I followed him through his club, I knew that I was becoming addicted to him. My hand yearned to touch his back again, to slide across his muscles and so much more.
I bit down on my lip. This ache wasn't going to go away. The ache between my legs and the ache that resonated deep inside of me grew every time I was with him, every time he looked and touched me.
A soft sigh left me and he glanced back.
I was scorched by his gaze. His wolf eyes saw into me. I was stripped bare to him, no matter what I wore or how many walls were around my heart. He saw through everything. His hand tightened around mine, and he lifted it. His lips grazed against the top of it. My eyes closed, the ache doubled between my legs at that soft caress.
"Sir." A man stepped out of the shadows. Another guard.
Carter stopped as he listened to what the man had to say. He spoke quietly so I couldn't hear, but both glanced at me.
His eyes narrowed and darkened. His hold on my hand became possessive.
I asked again, "Carter? What is it?"
He turned, his decision made, and he curved a hand into the place between my shoulders blades. He started to walk with me down a hallway. As we got further along, I saw Mike waiting for us and then I recognized it was the same box where I had left Noah and Theresa. I dug my feet in. I didn't know what was going on, but I knew he was going to leave me there. Something came up and he needed to handle whatever it was, but I didn't want to be left behind.
"No." I shook my head. "You're not leaving me." Not again.
When we got there, he let go, but I took his hand again and led him into the bathroom. His face had been battered from the beatings. There was dried blood over him, in his hair as well, and he stood there watching as I inspected every wound. He winced as I probed his ribs, so instead of having him lift his shirt over, I took a firm hold at the top and ripped it. It fell to the floor. My eyes took it all in. His chest and ribs had taken the brunt of the kicks, at least the ones I saw. The tips of my fingers softly grazed over him, and he hissed from the pain.
My eyes caught his. I saw the pain and took a deep breath. Strength surged inside of me. He needed mine so I pointed to the counter and murmured, "Sit." My voice came out hoarse, and I bit down on my lip. Pain sliced me when he made a motion to vomit. When he didn't, I let out the breath I'd been holding and warmed some washcloths.
Pressing it to the cut on his nose, the washcloth immediately turned red from the blood. He hissed some more when I continued to his swollen cheek, then his swollen eye.
"You should see a doctor."
He nodded, closing his one eye. Slowly, he leaned forward and rested his forehead on my shoulder. His lips moved against my skin as he answered, "I had to see you first."
My hand lifted to cradle the back of his head. I drew another deep breath in and rested my head against his. My eyes closed. I felt his pain and I hated it. He shouldn't have been hurting, but I knew he put himself in that situation for a reason. So many questions flew in my head, but I refrained from asking. My fingers began to massage the back of his head, delicately at first and they grew stronger when he didn't grimace or flinch away. Instead, his hand moved to the small of my back and he pressed me tighter against him. As I kept massaging, he grew more and more tired. His weight leaned on top of me until all of it was there. He had fallen asleep. I was holding him up and I stood there. I continued holding him. I would've stood there for hours, standing for him but a small movement caught my eye and I looked up.
Amanda had a hand to her mouth. She watched from the doorway. As she did, a lone tear slipped down. Then she mouthed, "He's asleep?"
Imagine Dragons: Radioactive •
AFI, song: Prelude •
AWOLNATION: Sail •
Alicia Keys: Girl on Fire •
Audiomachine: the whole albums: Epica and Helios •
Avicii: Wake Me Up •
Butterfly Boucher: Bitter Song •
Carrie Underwood: Blown Away, Two Black Cadillacs •
The Civil Wars: Oh, Mama •
Fall Out Boy: the entire album of Save Rock and Roll •
Florence and the Machine: Breath of Life, What the Water Gave Me, Seven Devils, Leave My Body •