Beneath the Watching

8. Mabel

8

MABEL

Stefan drove us to an apartment building not far from where he’d snatched me off the sidewalk. Neither of us had said a single word along the way. Stefan seemed deep in thought, barely paying attention to anything, cutting people off and running red lights, and yet driving at close to normal speeds. It seemed he’d expected people to get out of his way and they appeared to do precisely that without any thought or sudden braking.

After we entered an underground parking garage, he got out and opened my door. His suit jacket was unbuttoned, revealing dual gun holsters I’d never noticed him wearing before. Stefan’s hand was on my shoulder to guide me, and I stiffened under his touch. Was he going to shoot me?

My steps faltered as he led me towards an elevator. My eyes squeezed shut for a moment. He wants to get rid of me and he will. Just like he said.

My heart began pounding in my chest at the absurdity of my situation. No one had ever really wanted me around, no one had ever really cared how I felt about anything and here was this guy, and he was about to shoot me and solve everyone’s problem.

The door opened with a chiming sound and the palm pressed against my back signaled I should move forward. I did; and watched my freedom close away right before my eyes.

A million thoughts began running through my head.

Madison is sleeping with my boyfriend.

My foster parents used me for a paycheck.

Al looked like a savior, taking me in out of pity.

I never got to start a bread baking business.

Would people buy green bread?

This man hates me so much he’s going to shoot me in the head.

Twice.

The rush of unwanted thoughts washed over me, dampening my forehead, and forcing a trickle of moisture down my back. Oxygen was fleeing my lungs, and I couldn’t catch my breath, black spots appearing before my eyes. Stefan said something, but I couldn’t hear him over the roar of blood in my ears.

An arm curled around me and pulled me back as my knees buckled and I hung there a moment, bent forward. “You need to relax,” his voice tried to soothe me.

Straightening up, I tried to turn but he wouldn’t let me and just held me tighter. My brain hurt, I couldn’t reconcile his tone of voice with my current circumstances or the chaos running through my mind. I wanted to take off, leave, hide, and make the noise stop and bring back the familiar numbness I was used to.

“Mabel,” he said, his voice low. “Please stop. You need to breathe.”

Just then, I heard my own gasping and choking. When I looked down, I focused on his sleeve, watching tiny drips falling onto the fabric before being absorbed.

I’m crying.

Before I could purposely dissociate and end my discomfort, another chime sounded, and a pair of doors slid open. Stefan lifted me into his arms and brought me through an entry way before laying me on a couch. I curled onto my side and faced the back of the couch and stared at the swath of black leather when he touched my arm, trying to get my attention.

“Mabel,” he said, keeping his voice low. There was no excuse for snatching me off the sidewalk, forcing me into a car, locking me in and then dumping me on a couch so I ignored him. The cushions shifted and I felt his leg against me.

If I’d just stayed with Madison, this never would’ve happened.

After a few minutes went by, the leather moved again, and he gave up and walked away. My timing in beginning to stand up for myself, no matter how slight my efforts, may have been off but it was better late than never.

I remained frozen in place, listening to his retreating footsteps and then turned around. The apartment he’d brought me to was large and had a bank of floor to ceiling windows lining one wall. Vertical blinds were pushed to the sides of glass panes even taller than the ones at home.

Everything was immaculate, masculine, and clean but did appear lived in with a television remote tossed onto a recliner, and a stack of magazines on the floor. The penthouse didn’t feel like Stefan, I noted. The decor lacked the warmth of the living quarters his friends had brought me to when I’d found myself outside in the snow. I had no idea where I was other than somewhere downtown.

Noise sounded from a distant room in the apartment and I laid back down. There was no reason for Stefan to do this to me, I hadn’t gone back to that other place. There was nothing I could think of that justified this behavior. Foreboding filled me with a sense of dread.

“We’re leaving. Now.” Stefan stormed into the living room; a bag slung over his shoulder. “Get up.”

Shakily, I sat up, swinging my legs over the side of the couch. “Where are we going?”

He bent over and grabbed my arms. At this rate, I’d have permanent bruises across my skin. “You can’t stay here,” he told me, not breaking his hold.

My eyes watered. “What are you going to do to me?”

Stefan appeared conflicted for a moment, concern wavering across his face for a split second before it vanished. “It's no longer safe for you here.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” he said brusquely. “Follow me.”

He’d gone to a lot of trouble, kidnapping me and everything, for someone he didn’t care about. Wordlessly, I followed him. There was no choice since he hadn’t let go of me, anyway. My thoughts traveled back to his response to his friend’s arrival at the casino recently. He’d physically reacted as if he’d staked a claim to me. That was a lot of effort for someone who wasn’t concerned.

We ended up in a bedroom and my heart thudded. My gaze traveled to the king-size bed and then to Stefan’s face and his heated stare. My breath caught in my throat as he tugged me against his chest. My hands dangled by my sides until he let go of my shoulder and clasped them, keeping them close to his thighs. His breath was warm against my temple, and I felt him shudder. Warmth tingled through my body over the proximity of our bodies, and the bed right beside us. My thoughts tumbled as I pictured us doing just that, under the blankets.

Stefan’s eyes narrowed, as if he sensed my illicit daydreams. When he spoke, his voice was low and strained. “Don’t let go of me.”

“I won’t,” I replied. He rested his chin on my head, and I let myself be surrounded by him. The heat of his body and the fragrance of sandalwood, cedar, and smoke enveloped me. I closed my eyes. As I tucked my head against his shoulder, I felt the world fall away.

At some point, my grip must’ve moved because I’d unconsciously wrapped my arms around Stefan’s waist, holding him tight. It felt as if I’d been sleeping and had just woken up. He pulled away and I heard him take a step back before I opened my eyes to see we were in that place, again. The place where his friends brought me in out of the snow.

“Sit down,” Stefan ordered as I looked around the room. The pile of blankets was still on the couch, so I headed there, taking one as I did what he told me to do. He stood eyeing me for several long seconds before he wiped his hands down his sides and walked over to a desk.

During my last visit, I’d never gotten the chance to really examine what was in the room, so I finally took the time. It appeared to be a living area combined with an office, by the furniture. A low table sat next to the sofa, strewn with copies of magazines such as the National Enquirer and National Geographic. Some wooden drink coasters were stacked beside a pile of pens and an open crossword puzzle book. I had to assume the items weren’t Stefan’s but rather, his two friends’ belongings. He didn’t strike me as a tabloid reader.

As I tried to distract myself with the interesting assortment that lay before me, I did my best not to think about how Stefan had miraculously transported me here. The emotions I was experiencing were overwhelming. I was so used to shoving them down and steeling myself that all I really wanted to do was curl up in the fetal position. Deep down, I knew there was nothing natural or ordinary about what was going on and it momentarily terrified me.

If I was going to be able to handle all this properly, I had to get my act together. I needed to get over myself and face this new situation head on, without my safety net.

Taking a careful assessment of the room I was in; I spotted several doors. Stefan removed his coat after opening one of them to reveal a closet and placed it on a hanger. With his attention elsewhere, I stood up.

“Sit down,” he barked, startling me. I noted the tense line of his shoulders and the stern set of his jaw when he quickly glanced at me.

When I backed up, I felt the couch’s frame hit the back of my legs. Stefan shut the closet door firmly, the sound seeming to echo through the room. Slowly, he turned around to face me.

His eyes locked on mine; the deep chocolate brown shade of his irises almost black as he began stalking across the room. My legs bent and I fell onto the cushions while I watched him come closer and closer, his gaze burning a hole right through me.

I scooted back as he came to a stop. He removed his cufflinks and began rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “I need you to understand something,” he started, “since you are here, you will do precisely what I tell you.”

“I didn’t ask to come here.”

Stefan bent forward slightly, chuckling as he leaned in. “I seem to remember you in fact did.”

Had I? I was still too thrown off by my conscious arrival to wherever this place was to remember. “No...” I said, shaking my head. “You grabbed me off the street for no reason.”

“No reason?” He thrust an arm around my back and used his other hand to lay me down. “I don’t do anything without a purpose.”

Unable to tear my eyes away, I watched as his own began to glow. It was like they were filling with lava, as a thin, viscous liquid melted over the deep brown shade. His dark hair fell forward on one side, brushing against his brow and casting a deeper shadow under his defined cheekbones. Tearing my eyes away from his wickedly beautiful face, I asked, “What have I done?”

“Your soft tone can’t hide your guilt, Mabel.” He answered, wrapping both hands around my neck as he climbed onto the sofa. His grip was firm enough to partially cut off my airway and I could feel my pulse thudding against his thumbs.

My guilt? “I didn’t mean to bother you,” I gasped, barely able to speak.

“You’ve done much more than bother me.” Leaving a hand around my neck, he used his other to scratch his nails down my side before they pressed into my leg, leaving a slightly painful trail.

Stefan brought his face to mine and claimed my lips, bruising them with a punishing kiss. I clawed at him, trying to fight him off, my nails snagging in the fabric of his shirt. He pressed in harder in response and I felt his fervor against my belly.

“Only for me, beauty, save it all for me,” he moved his mouth to whisper in my ear. “You’re going to suffer, too.”

His hand released its hold to pull my hair into his fist, forcing my head to an almost painful angle. His lips nibbled at my flesh in between sharp bites while his breath travelled up and down the expanse of my neck. The first hot lash of his tongue felt like a kiss from the devil and my fingers dug into his upper arms in response.

“Open yourself to me,” he demanded before he bit down on just above my collarbone. My back arched up at the sudden stab of pain and he clamped down harder.

Gasping, I tried to push him away so I could breathe but the swipe of his tongue eased the pain before his hand wandered to my waist band and pushed inside. Each flick of his tongue began to send darts of delicious heat shooting to my core and I moaned, pulling even harder on his hair. The soft strands weaved through my fingers as his touch reached the seam between my legs. I instantly forgot I’d been fighting him off. I’d daydreamed relentlessly about doing exactly this with him and it was better than I ever could’ve imagined.

Stefan gently parted my lower lips as he raised his head from my chest. “You’re going to feel everything as I tear down your walls,” he growled. My head was spinning.

The light in the room dimmed suddenly and I heard a click in the background. The couch shifted the same time he pulled away. With his body heat removed, I felt cool air drifting across my abdomen, and I self-consciously went to pull my shirt down to cover my waist.

“No,” Stefan growled, seizing my wrist.

I froze, although I probably couldn’t have moved even if I wanted to. His grip was unforgiving, and the atmosphere charged with electricity. He let go and then the sound of fabric hitting the floor filled my ears. A metallic clink echoed through the room, followed by a soft dragging noise. It took me a moment to realize it was his belt and then he climbed back onto the couch and straddled me.

The question, “what are you doing?” kept running through my head but I couldn’t bring myself to open my mouth to verbalize it once his hands touched my skin. He slowly dragged them from my collarbone, down over my breasts, and then to my sides to grip my waist all while I squirmed under his palms’ warm contact.

My own hands snagged when I went to reach for him. Somehow, he’d tied me to part of the couch with a leather strap, and I hadn’t noticed until I tried to move. I’d been too focused on the man leaning over me, his smell, the feel of his legs beside mine, and the ball of heat in my core begging to be sated.

Stefan moved back a little bit and began tugging my pants the rest of the way down, along with my underwear. When he finished, he shoved a leg between mine, pushing my thighs open so one of my legs hung off the couch.

“Stefan,” I pleaded, my voice barely audible. “Please.” He’d bent over me again and was leaning on one arm, with his other tucked around my lower back. His breath brushed against my cheekbone.

“Please?” he rasped beside my ear.

It was hard to think while my entire being was enthralled; all my senses were engaged. There was no way to escape him, and I knew this was going to happen. I just wasn’t sure I was ready.

“You want me to fill you up, don’t you?” He bit my earlobe sending a shiver down my spine. “All you can think of is me, isn’t it? If all I can think of is you, you’re going to repay the favor.”

There was something so sinful, so erotic and intoxicating about the threatening tone in his voice I couldn’t help but whimper. He pulled his arm out from under me and grabbed my hair, tilting my head back. “I thought you wanted to get rid of me,” I moaned.

Stefan’s lips were only an inch from mine when he said, “I do.”

His lips crashed down on mine and his tongue swept inside my mouth. I couldn’t help it; I met him with the same enthusiasm, exploring his mouth with my own. He tasted of whisky and heartbreak, and I felt myself weakening more than I already had, my walls crumbling exactly as he wanted. This man would destroy me, if I let him.

Nothing he’d ever done could convince me that he truly wanted me out of the picture. The way he’d look at me, his eyes full of obsession and desire. There was always plenty of malice, but beneath the surface I’d detect hints of longing and something like hope, as if I were the answer to a burning question.

Despite his threats, he looked out for me. What else could he have been doing when he examined my house top to bottom the night he’d dropped me off? And what about when Ilya approached our table? It’d seemed he’d tear the man limb from limb if he’d so much as brushed my shoulder.

Stefan still hadn’t told me why he’d yanked me off the street and forced me into the car, or why he’d brought me here when he’d been so adamant about the subject. I’d fought him, but he hadn’t tied me up until now. “Give me back my hands,” I said, short of breath. I’m pretty sure my voice was dripping with as much lust as the space between my legs.

He let go of my hair and dragged his tongue softly along the length of my neck before answering. “No.”

“Please.” I lifted my leg off the floor and had to lay it on Stefan’s for lack of anywhere else to put it. The movement forced his hips closer to mine and I couldn’t say I didn’t want to be filled by him as he’d suggested. His solid erection was pushing right against my pussy, and he rocked into me, rubbing his length against my clit.

“You’re going to learn to trust me,” he said, rocking his cock against my most sensitive spot again as a moan emanated from my lips.

Trust him after he’d shoved me into a car? My head was still clouded, everything moving too fast for me to catch my breath or think further. The mystery music had started up in the background, again. The room was as black as night, but I knew it was only the two of us. I twisted away as much as I could, but Stefan stopped me, holding me in place as if I could go anywhere with myself bound and his weight on top of me.

He sat back, keeping a hand on my side while he brushed his knuckles against my cheek. It dawned on me that he could see clearly while I couldn’t see a thing.

“How am I supposed to trust you when I don’t know you?” I asked. “Plus, you shoved me in a car.” A wave of discomfort coursed through me as I was unused to being this assertive, especially with someone whom I cared what they thought.

More discomfort rose in my chest. I didn’t want to feel so strongly about this man. I shouldn’t have felt the way I did, not with how he treated me. I wanted to curl up in a ball, but I was trapped, not even able to bring my knees up and hide to protect myself from my treacherous thoughts.

Stefan let out a short sigh and backed up, moving his legs off the couch before he pulled mine over his own. The edge of my rear was right against his thigh, and he curled a hand under my leg, stopping dangerously close to my lower lips.

The lights in the room flickered back on the same time as I saw him gazing down at me, an arrogant smirk curling his lips.