This Is Love, Baby (War & Peace #2) (14 page)

“Mmm,” she purrs in her sleep.

It spurs me on and I fuck her with my finger, lazily. I revel in the way her body grips it. She may have fucked those two men, but she’s still tight. To further prove that fact, I push another finger into her. And then another. Her body accepts me and grows increasingly wet. My cock will stretch her further. Her cunt will take it—every thick inch of me.

With my free hand, I jerk at my dick in unison with each plunge of my fingers into her heat. One day soon, we’ll fuck. Once I’m finally able to break down her walls, I can make love to her sweet body at all hours of the day. She’ll remember our love and find her way back to me.

Another small whimper fills the night air and it’s all it takes before I’m overtaken by my climax. Hot semen spurts all over my belly and I hiss out in pleasure. I’m beginning to relax from my high when she speaks. It’s murmured and in her sleep, but I still catch it.

“War.”

A whispered plea. A reverent evocation. A fucking slap in the face spoken in a way in which I have never once heard my name come from her lips.

The name splashes over me, arctic and icy. I jerk my hand out from inside her. Fury surges through me to the point I’m physically shaking. Tiny threads of what was left of my control and sanity pluck one by one as the anger sweeps through me like a rampant tornado decimating everything in its path. I can actually feel the snap inside me—the shredding of the gentle boy I was before as the reborn man rips from within and bursts free. The man I’ve become flexes and snarls because he knows this means war. I can’t lose her to Gabe, only to lose her to this other guy, too. She belongs to me. It’s always been that way and now I have to fight for her. The old me couldn’t handle it but the new me is pumped up and ready to demolish anything in my path. Fuck that asshole for stealing her body from me and fuck that other prick for stealing her heart. I’m going to do everything in my power to keep her away from that motherfucker in the other room. And soon.

With a grumble, I climb out of bed and clean my cum from my stomach. Lifting my fingers to my nose, I inhale her scent. I certainly won’t be washing her from me anytime soon. Tomorrow, every time I eat or scrub my face in frustration, I will catch a whiff of her. It will get me through the times when she isn’t acting like herself.

I make my way back over to her and slide into the bed. Once the covers are pulled back over us, I wrap my body around hers to keep her warm. Sliding my hand back under her nightgown, I palm her breast and my mind flits to the past as I drift off to sleep.

Tony’s cell phone rings from where it’s plugged in on the bedside table and I jolt to an upright position on their bed. Every time his phone rings, I’m flooded with a mixture of anxiety and hope. Anxious that it could be someone looking for him, hopeful that it could be Baylee.

But it isn’t her.

It never is.

The only contact I get with her is through a questionable email address that shows up in Lynn’s inbox on her cell. Where I play the role of her angry father. Baylee must be playing a role too, because her emails are bullshit and don’t even sound like her.

A growl rumbles in my throat to see the call is from an unknown number. I swipe the button to answer the call but don’t say anything.

“Tony?” a familiar voice questions.

Gabe.

This is the first time he’s tried to make contact with Tony.

“Where is she?” I spit out.

The line is silent for a moment before he chuckles. It pisses me right the fuck off.

“She’s been sold. But something tells me you already knew that.”

Blinding rage causes my fingers to grip the phone in my crushing grip. I’d throw the damn thing at the wall if it didn’t mean I’d lose my main line of contact to her. Instead, I sling the framed picture on the nightstand careening with the back of my hand and relish in the sound of the glass shattering as it hits the floor.

“Her sorry excuse for a father told me all about your scheme,” I snarl, hoping to bait him.

“Scheme? What scheme?” he questions, his tone sarcastic but I don’t miss the underlying hint of concern. “Where is ‘ol Tony anyway, pussy boy?”

“Well, he isn’t fucking here, dumbass.” I pace the floor along the bed and fist my free hand. His voice seems to pour accelerant on the fire blazing within me.

The line goes silent and I pull it away to make sure it’s still connected. Finally, he lets out a breath of frustration and I smile in satisfaction knowing I’m getting to him.

He laughs but it’s dark and humorless. “Someone grew some balls since turning eighteen.”

“Where is she?” My tone is low and deadly.

“She’s gone,” he says, “for now. But soon I’ll have her back. Not that it matters to you anyway.”

“YOU WON’T HAVE ANYTHING!” I roar.

His heavy breathing has become louder on the other end of the line and he practically spits out his next words. “I
will
have everything—I’ve
had
everything. She belongs to me you little shit. Tony knew what he was doing when he agreed to all of this. He
knew
what could happen.”

“That you’d rape his daughter?!”

“You can’t rape the willing, pussy boy. And boy was she willing—such a needy, greedy little girl. So ripe. So fucking juicy. It may not have been part of the original…scheme, but when the opportunity presented itself, I took it. Jesus, I’m getting hard just thinking about slurping up that wet pussy of hers. Fucking delicious. And, goddamn, that ass of hers was so tight—“

Before I can control myself, I heave the phone across the room with more force than any baseball I’ve ever thrown. It hits the dresser and shatters. My lifeline to the man who stole her is gone. The rage is out of control and I storm out of the house so I don’t ruin my sweet girl’s home. Instead, I take my anger outside and beat the fuck out of the trunk of a thick oak in the backyard. Once my knuckles are busted open and bloody, and I am depleted of energy, I walk to the corner of the yard and sink to my ass on the dirt. Hot tears threaten but I don’t let them fall.

This fucker won’t win. He’ll show up and I’ll force him to tell me who he sold her to. If I have to kick his ass into next week, I will. If I have to break both his arms, I will. If I have to kill him, I fucking will. I will do whatever is necessary to pull the information from him. And when he finally gives me what I want…I’ll save her. I will find my girl and bring her back home.

I need to be smart. Vigilant. Her hero.

He’ll turn up soon. Either here, his job, his bank. Somewhere. And when he does, I’ll be waiting.

“S
HHHH.”

His lips are all over mine. Sweet and needy. But they feel all wrong. I don’t want his lips on me. And now his tongue is pushing its way into my mouth. Rubbing against my own tongue. Taking and owning.

“Stop,” I whimper into his mouth.

He ignores me and dives deeper. His palm covers my breast through my nightgown and he squeezes almost painfully. I cry out and try to push him away.

“Stop!”

His mouth tears from mine and he’s no longer desperate. He’s fierce. Green eyes glower down at me as he covers my mouth with his palm. I struggle against his heavy frame but I’m not strong enough. This boy who I once loved is turning into a monster. He’s hurting me.

A whimper escapes me and his eyes darken. He stares at me as if he’s contemplating how to devour my entire being. How to extract it from my body and run his tongue along it.

I shudder in his arms. He seems to enjoy my discomfort, though, because he grins baring his perfect teeth to me.

“I’ve been waiting for you, babe. To lose my virginity to the woman I love. You came back to me. The time is now.”

A scream remains lodged in my throat as I struggle against his hold. He laughs and then attacks my neck. His teeth bruise the flesh as he bites down hard. He works to silence my cry with his hand, tears rolling down my cheeks. It feels as though blood is gushing from me and when he pulls away to look at me again, my horrors are confirmed.

His white teeth are stained red and my blood drips from his chin. The green eyes morph into the color of coffee, before turning almost black. And he’s no longer a boy, but the devil who owns this cabin. He slams his thickness into me and I scream. My blood drips from his chin and splashes onto my face. With each drip into my eyes, I become blind. The world around me turns red with my blood. The devil fucks me straight to hell.

“That’s
my
baby inside of you,” he taunts.

I shake my head in vehemence. I’m waiting for my white horse to show up, carrying my hero. But then I remember he’s dead.

He can’t save me.

Can’t save me from their evil.

The demonic eyes find mine and he tears his hand from my mouth, instantly replacing it with his tongue. It plunges inside so deeply that I retch in response. The taste of the metallic blood—my blood—and the way he tries to fuck my throat with his thick tongue is too much.

I gag and gag and gag.

“Baylee.”

The voice is soft and sweet. I miss it so much.

“Mom?”

I’m now in the cemetery and I’m staring at her tombstone. The air is cold and the monsters are momentarily gone.

“Baylee,” she whispers again, her voice wrapping around me in a comforting hug. “Help me…”

The earth moves in front of her grave and I scramble over to it. Her long slender finger pokes through the dirt and wiggles at me.

“Mom!” I screech and begin clawing at the ground.

“You left me,” she tells me sadly.

With a shake of my head in disagreement, I dig and dig until her arm is free to her elbow. Grabbing onto it, I pull with all my might. Soon, her dirty face emerges and her blue eyes stare at me almost in an accusing way.

“You left me.”

I’m sobbing as I completely free her from the dirt. Her frail body collapses on mine and I get a whiff of decomposing flesh.

“Mom, I’m here. I’m here,” I tell her and rake my fingers through her filthy blonde hair, hugging her to me. “I wanted to save you. I thought War’s money could save you. Mommy, I tried.”

She lets out a groan, her breath a deadly stench. “You were too late, honey. Too late.”

When my body begins to shudder with hysterical sobs, I close my eyes and try not to throw up. But when I reopen them, I’m back in the forest behind Gabe’s cabin. The monster with the coffee-colored eyes is standing above me unbuckling his jeans. He pulls out his cock and I try to run. One step, two step, three step.

His weight is suddenly on top of me. Crushing. Deadly. Soul consuming. He smashes my face into the brush and I’m choking on leaves. Sticks poke at my face. Ants crawl into my ears. The jingle of his belt jolts me into action and I squirm to avoid his harsh punishment.

“Three steps, three licks,” he taunts before the fire tears across my flesh.

“Ahhhh!”

My scream could wake the dead. Maybe Mom will come save me even though I couldn’t save her.

“Baylee! Wake up!”

My eyes fly open and a dark shadow is on top of me, holding my arms down against the bed.

“Help me!” I screech and squirm against my attacker. “Get off me!”

“Jesus, it’s me,” he says softly. “You were having a nightmare and were flipping out. I was afraid you were going to hurt yourself.”

My body somewhat relaxes once I realize it’s Brandon—not the monster from my dream. Memories of my mother fade away. The forest dissipates in the air around me. Smells, sounds, pain—they all flee and leave me in peace.

“There she is,” he coos and presses a kiss to my forehead.

Only then do I realize our position. He’s on top of me, his cock pressed against my bare pussy with only the fabric of his boxers preventing him from pushing into me. My legs around his hips. His strong grip on my wrists pressing into the bed on either side of my head.

“Brandon…” I start but he shushes me with a soft kiss on my lips.

Anxiety washes over me and my heart thunders inside my chest as if it might explode at any moment.

“I’m going to take care of you, babe,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Always.”

A shudder ripples through me when he grows hard. It’s enough to throw me out of my daze. “Get off me!”

He jerks away and stares down at me, shock morphing his features. You’d think I’d just slapped him. If he’ll free my hands, I’ll do just that. But he rolls off and away from me, pain contorting his features.

“I’m not him,” he chokes out. “I’m not that fucking monster. I love you.”

I scramble out of the bed and back away toward the bathroom. But it’s when I hear him crying—soft, masculine sobs—that I begin to ache inside. He’s right. He’s not a monster like Gabe. But he’s not the playful, innocent boy I left behind either. The Brandon I knew before would never pin me down. Never take anything from me unless I was ready to give it. I should be grateful for Brandon. And I am. He’s here when nobody else would or could be. The man—and yes, he’s all man now—only wants to look after me. To love me. But why can’t he understand that right now, I just need my friend?