Hot For Her Ex-Con (Dark Desires #7)

2. Allison

CHAPTER 2

Allison

I ’m not exactly expecting a warm welcome home, but seeing the front door off its hinges, kicked in by someone or something big enough to even do that…

It’s enough to cancel out my anxiety about coming home unannounced after leaving Mom when she was at her worst.

I knew this was a mistake.

My head pivots up and down our narrow street, rows of identical rundown houses filled with folks who wouldn’t blink at the sound of a door being kicked in. They’re grateful, if anything, that it’s not their door. Not tonight, at least.

Despite my common sense urge to call for help, I watch the fractured entranceway to what used to be home getting bigger until I’m walking right through it, drawn by something else instead of fear.

The darkening sky and booming thunder don’t make me jump, either. There’s something deeper sending a different kind of shiver through me.

The sounds that match the damage reach my ears, filling my whole body with a vibration that gives me an instant feeling I probably shouldn't be having right now.

I’ve heard of people getting hysterical in a crisis, but my bodily reaction to the noise, to this whole situation is far from hysterical.

I stifle a gasp, cursing in a whisper to myself before feeling the thrill between my legs overtake me as I swoon shamelessly.

Drawn to whatever it is, as if I have no choice.

My room’s right at the end of the hall, a trip that makes seconds feel like hours before an equally shaky hand pushes the door open.

I stand blinking a moment, my mouth hanging open once I find our intruder. For a split second, I swear the man, huge and beastly looking as he already is, has an extra limb.

A withered arm or something he’s gripping tight with his other two good hands, like he’s fighting something growing out of him.

A blur of broad hands, muscular arms, and what looks like a pair of my favorite undies that I still miss.

Once it pegs what I’m actually seeing, the ‘withered arm’ and the twisted frame of a monster of a man snap into focus long enough to register.

It’s grade school biology, really, but I’m getting a fresh lesson in what mother nature can dish up in the penis stakes when she’s handing them out to lunatics who like to let themselves in before getting themselves off.

I’m not gonna lie. The girl part of me, the woman? I’m more than impressed. Instantly impressed, you could say.

So, I’m a big-dick-or-no-ride girl after all, who knew?

My mouth opens wider to scream, I assume. But the low, almost mournful, needing groan that comes from me in reply is enough to stop this maniac mid-stroke.

Long enough for his penetrating dark eyes to burn into mine, along with a low growl that sees the edge of his stubbled lip curl into a rough smile.

A look of recognition that should frighten me to death but only makes me fight harder to stay conscious once I feel myself doing what any girl would do at the sight of this… this animal … doing the most animal thing, right on my bed, using my panties no less.

I faint.

When my eyes do flutter open, I’m lying on the same bed, the face I just saw earlier hovering a foot from mine, his face still contorted, blinking down at me and looking concerned. And not because I just saw him grinding his pepper shaker.

“I’m… I’m Killian,” he rasps, curling a wider, more crooked smile for my benefit.

He’s far from unattractive. Just his intense expression and his exertion make him look extra rugged. But it’s a look to match his hulking frame.

“Allison,” I squeak, crimping my own mouth into a smile I can’t help. I’m already feeling safe from anything, with a guy like this who looks like he won’t dismember me after all.

I sit up with a start, making him recoil. He’s fully dressed, and there’s no sign of my underwear. I wonder if I could have imagined what I just saw, everything else in my room looking pretty much like I left it months ago.

“I-I rent the room here,” he continues, abstractly matter of fact. My expression shifts, and I assure him it’s not his room. Not unless mom’s been renting out my space to dangerous, well-hung men.

Ah, shit. Now that is something my mom would do.

Ever since she split with my dad, she’s been the queen of crazy town.

“Don’t be scared,” he says firmly, those obsidian black eyes of his leaving mine just long enough to glance down the hall. His large, chiseled head is cocked to one side, straining for any other sounds apart from my rapid breaths mixing with his.

“Where… Where’s my mom?” I ask, watching his features shift yet again as if I’ve said the wrong thing.

“It’s not like she says!” Killian snarls, gripping my arm hard and letting it go instantly when I wince.

“I-I just rented the room, okay? Carol’s nice, but it’s nothing like that…”

It shouldn’t matter to me, and I have no real idea what he’s talking about, but a huge part of me is instantly relieved for some reason.

“I-I never knew she had a daughter,” he confesses, looking down and away from me. “I just knew whoever was in this room before…”

He stops mid-sentence. I’m already leaning closer to him, hungry for more of his approval instead of hearing my mom’s name from his mouth.

My hand claws at the air for him, not fending him off or escaping but to feel his grip on me again. The truth is, I kinda liked it when he grabbed me just now.

“Jesus Christ! Killian? What the hell happened to the… Allison?!”

Mom’s home. Yay.

The loaded and cocked handgun she swore she’d gotten rid of sags with her arm. Her look shifts to suspicion at the sight of me on my bed with Killian standing ever protectively over me.

By the looks of it, all three of us have a little explaining to do.