part0052

When I got out of the rain, into my home, it was as if time had lapsed. I’d left before dark and yet the wall clock in my apartment said it was 11:58 pm.

It was then that I knew, I knew he was coming for me. Whether it was here, in the woods, or overseas if I’d listened to my gut and gone to the airport to get out of here, I knew it was out of my control. Time. Logic. All of it.

I tried to think about what Erica had said.

Reading between the lines made me think of the story, of his promise from a fortune teller of true love after a difficult journey. What journey could be harder than what he’d faced? But the violence. The violence I experienced was nothing compared to the story’s passages about the first ten years after his death being filled with murder.

The night with me? That was him hunting me, capturing me, and raping me.

But the rape brought pleasure because he gave as he relentlessly took. He tended the wounds I had. He held me close afterwards.

I fell asleep in the arms of the monster and I had not been right since that night.

And now he was here. And I was petrified. And yet… some other emotions tugged at me, trying to penetrate the wall of fear surrounding me.

I heard him come in and stayed in my room, where I’d gone to get clothes, planning a hot bath after my six-block trek in the rain. I heard the door open as the digital clock switched to 12:00 and once again, my phone had signaled another mystery timer alert. “Timer done”.

The universe telling me my time was up. Again.

I’d lifted the bag from the floor and switched it off. It also said, “Searching for Signal.”

It was inevitable. Did I wait here, cowering, so he could come get me, or face him and get it over with?

If that woman Erica was right, which seemed impossible, maybe I wouldn’t be afraid.

I didn’t know why I’d taken the book out when I came home with that pumpkin on my lunch hour. It was an autographed copy the author’s grandson had given me, telling me he had dozens.

The inscription inside from the author read,

“The moral of this story? Don’t be a skeptic. And don’t go walking in the forest alone after dark.”

If he was here to hurt me, it was inevitable. Paranormal elements were at play, so I had to face that inevitability.

And after the year I’d had, I was exhausted from all of it. Absolutely exhausted.

So, I opened the door to face the music. Not bravely. Numbly. Resignedly.

And when I saw him, I didn’t know what to think.

He stood by the table, holding the book. The book about him.

And him with a head? Well… it was a good head.

Dark brown slightly curly hair, dark eyes, full lips. Chiseled jawline. He was handsome. More than handsome. He looked quite a lot like a dark-haired version of the drool-worthy actor Sam Heughan.

His eyes were on me, traveling from my head to my feet and then back.

And his expression went carnal.

And I was suddenly overcome with the urge to flee. In my room was a window that also opened up to the terrace. At the back of the terrace was a small fire escape.

Why hadn’t I thought to escape when my timer done alert went off?

I twisted the knob and went tumbling to the floor. As this happened in slow motion, he ran for me.

He got to me a second too late. I’d already landed.

“Precious Isabella!” He was alarmed as he got to his knees and lifted me into big strong arms. “Are you hurt?”

I stared into his eyes in astonishment. Warmth spread through me. My body felt like jelly.

He lifted me and carried me to my bed. He sat with me in his arms and pulled me close.

I shook my head, unable to tear my eyes off his face.

He shifted me onto the bed and poked my nose with a smile.

“What’s this?”

“What is it you’ve done to your beautiful face?”

“It…it’s what’s left of my kitty cat costume. For Halloween. I always dress up for my students.”

His face melted into a huge smile. “Kitty cat,” he said this amusedly. “Much better costume choice than, say… a witch.”

He was making a joke?

I opened my mouth, about to speak.

His expression dropped, “Be cautious with your words right now, little kitty cat.”

His expression spoke volumes and Erica’s voice rang in my head with her warnings.

He knew the warnings, too?

I had so many questions.

I couldn’t ask even one of them.

“I’d really like to go wash this black stuff off my face,” I whispered. And get a minute to process. “Get into dry clothes. I walked home in the rain.”

He smiled. “I’ll be right here, waiting.”

“Would the living room be more…” I started.

He shook his head and gave me a very carnal once-over with his eyes. “No. Only this bed chamber will do for what I have planned for you.”

I gasped in surprise. He gave me a positively salacious grin.

I scampered out of the bed. He caught my hand, halting me.

“Don’t run far, little kitty cat. I must warn you that I’d have to hunt you down…”

“I…” I blinked. “I know.”

He looked deep into my eyes. Impossibly deep. “I’ll make you happy. You’re going to make me happy. I feel it down to my soul. I have a soul again, thanks to you.”

I opened my mouth again to speak.

He shook his head in warning. “Go bathe, Isabella. I’ll be right here. Waiting.”

“Holden Holloway, by the way,” he answered my unspoken question. I wasn’t even sure how to ask, though I knew about the Holloway part.

“Holden,” I said softly, more warmth spreading through me.

He lifted my hand higher and kissed it. Tingles worked straight through me and my panties were suddenly drenched.

He guided me, holding that hand, to the bedroom door. And then he swatted my butt.

“Go. Hurry back.”

I squeaked. He gave me another salacious smile and sank his front teeth into his full lower lip. His eyes sparkled with mischief.

I was nervous and excited at the exact same time.

I hurried, blushing, to my bathroom scooping up the towels and bathrobe I’d dropped outside the door, and shut the door and lifted a big fluffy washcloth and saturated it with warm water to wipe the rest of the cat makeup off my face.

I bit the inside of my cheek and felt a smile spread across my face.

I hadn’t smiled, other than at cute things my second-grade students would say, in a year. Exactly a year.

As I got ready to undress, there was a soft knock on the door.

I opened it and there he was. He leaned a big, strong shoulder against the doorframe, and smiled, taking me in from head to toe to head again.

“I couldn’t wait. I tried. I’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

I nodded slowly, arousal flooding me, making every bit of me warmer.

He erased the space between us and then his mouth was on mine, his hand in my hair. His other hand grabbed my waist and yanked me against him, against his hardness.

He was very tall, had to bend to kiss me. He was great at kissing. Strong lips, an exploring tongue, husky sounds that showed me he liked kissing me. He lifted me up and spun to pin me against the door. My legs went automatically around his waist.

“Isabella,” he whispered, and every cell in my body was paying attention. The whisper took me back to that moment when he’d first whispered it.

He looked at me with concern.

I shook my head. “I’m okay, I’m just….” I let that hang. I had no choice but to let it hang. But, it was okay, because he knew. He knew .

“I never want you to fear me. Ever. I will never do anything to make you fear me as long as it’s within my power. And right now, it’s within my power. We have to make it so that it stays that way. We can’t speak of anything that could put it at risk.”

“You’re mine, Isabella. Meant for me.”

I choked on a sob and buried my face in his neck.

“I’m yours, Isabella. Destined as yours, regardless of anything. It’s just that simple.”

I put my hands to his face and brought his mouth to mine.

Strangely, no, not just strangely, inexplicably, he truly felt like he was mine. He felt like fate. Not a stranger. Not a monster. This was what I’d been waiting for. This was who I was saving myself for. The man who was meant to be mine, even if we were from different places in ‘time’. Fate made it so we would cross paths. Fate stopped me from being anyone else’s, multiple times.

How I’d come to grips with all of it so quickly made no sense. None of it made sense. Maybe love just doesn’t make sense.

He reached under and gave the butt of my bodysuit a sharp yank and it released all the snaps at once.

And it made him smile huge, with teeth, because he remembered the other bodysuit I wore that night.

I giggled. And then I unbuttoned the dark button-down shirt he wore. He’d taken off his leather jacket before coming in. My fingers immediately sought out his throat, his neckline.

I saw it. The scar. It was thick, looking just like it had felt that night.

I leaned forward and put my lips to it. I felt goosebumps form on his skin.

He set me on my feet and peeled my leotards down. I immediately saw the place where his mark had been.

I reached down and touched it.

“It…” I started to say but stopped myself. I swallowed and shook my head.

He kissed the exact spot and rubbed his face against my leg.

I gulped at the sensations that brought, both on my skin and inside of me.

“There was a mark. It’s gone.” I closed my eyes and tears squeezed out. He rose and kissed the tears away.

“I heard a rumor that hot showers are wonderful.”

I nodded and reached around, behind my autumn leaves themed shower curtain and turned the shower on.

I turned to see that he was shirtless and undoing his fly while kicking his boots off when I turned back to him.

He pulled the bodysuit up over my head and peeled my panties down, kissing my hip, and then kissing down until he got to where I was soaking wet for him.

And then his touch went from gentle to hungry. His fingers held me in place while his tongue devoured me between my thighs. My head rolled back as I absorbed those sensations.

He kissed, sucked, licked, and then he stopped. I looked down at him. He was looking up with intensity beaming from his eyes.

He rose, pulled the curtain back and eyed the shower curiously, then dropped his jeans. He had no underwear on underneath.

I blinked at the sight of him.

I pulled my bra off and tossed it and we climbed in.

The water felt good. His eyes raking over my body hungrily felt even better. Together? Amazing.

We soaped one another up. I shampooed his hair. He did the same with mine.

We rinsed off, and then he asked, “How do we make the water stop?”

I showed him, and we wrapped up in towels and he gave me a heated expression as he lifted me into his arms and carried me to my bed.

He gently put me down and then dropped his towel and climbed in with me, pulling my towels away from my body, taking a moment to squeeze the towel around my sopping-wet hair while I stared at him lustfully.

He wiped his own hair with a fast scrubbing of the towel and dropped the towel on the floor. And then he was pinning me, kissing me, and putting his fingers between my legs and parting my folds to find my aching clitoris.

“Holden,” I moaned into his mouth.

He gave me a look of absolute possession and then guided himself to me and slammed inside. His jaw muscles bulged as he slammed into me possessively, eyes on mine, teeth tight, one arm bracing beside my head to hold himself up, the other hand moving between us on the most magical spot on me.

I started to come undone. He started to move harder, faster.

“You’re mine, Isabella. Mine. I will make you happy. I will take away any pain you’ve felt and replace it with every ounce of love I’m capable of giving you.”

I nodded, crying out as I hit another peak.

“Say yes. Marry me. Let me be your happily ever after.”

“Fuuuuucking yes…” he ground out and found his release inside me.

He rolled, draping me over his body, just like he did that night.

I was so happy. Happy like a lunatic, because how insane was all of what had happened?

Who would ever believe the story? Maybe it was good that I couldn’t tell anyone.

And I felt boneless. Carefree. I was blissed. Right out. Until I had the one thought that could dampen the moment.

This time, I was on birth control. I went on it months ago, just in case. And it made me a little bit sad.

He held me all night. I was afraid to sleep, afraid to wake in the morning alone again. Afraid of becoming sane again and deciding that this was a terrible idea.

If this was insane, I prayed I’d be rooted in my lunacy forever.

I wanted to ask for reassurance that he wasn’t leaving, that he wasn’t about to go poof in the night and be just a memory.

I was afraid to ask, afraid to break the rules. So, I didn’t.

I told myself that in the morning, I’d pull out the papers with my recounting of my night one year ago, and I’d burn them.

I eventually fell asleep, cocooned by him. I didn’t dream.

Finally , a dreamless night. I simply slept.

And when I woke in the morning on November 1st , Holden was awake, beside me, watching me sleep, looking at me with a possessive, smitten expression.

“Hi,” I was feeling shy all of a sudden. I clutched the covers to my nakedness.

“Hi,” he returned, amused, stretching, his fabulous muscled chest and arms on display.

“Did you sleep okay?” I asked.

He nodded. “More than okay. But, little kitty cat…could you please feed me? I feel like I haven’t had food in… forever…” He gave me a wide grin. I busted up laughing.

“Sure thing,” I said, then bit my lip and chuckled, then added, “How about some pumpkin pie pancakes… pumpkin?”

He rolled me, laughter dancing in his eyes and a very attractive manly chuckle coming from him at what would undoubtedly be his pet name from me for the rest of our lives. His mouth hit mine.