Vicious Little Darling (Love So Cruel #3)

11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

JAXTON

I want all of her.

All. Of. Her.

I pound my fist into the tiled wall of my shower, not even wincing as blood trickles from my knuckles. I don’t fucking care. I want to shove my dick so far into her pussy that she feels it in her chest. But, normally, I only do that when the time comes for the kill.

And sometimes, not even then.

I didn’t do it with my most recent kill. I was too bored with her. I wrap my hand around my cock and stroke furiously, desperate to evoke some sort of satisfaction. I squeeze my eyes shut, bringing the taste of Ember’s pussy back to my mind. My breathing picks up as I immediately ejaculate into the palm of my hand.

“ Fuck!” I shout out the word, fury thrumming through my chest. I don’t even feel as if I came at all. My cock is still rigid and unsatiated. My phone alarm goes off, and I shut off the water, plucking the phone off the sink where I left it just within reach.

Time for therapy.

“Great. Just fucking great, ” I mutter. I consider skipping the appointment. It’s bad enough that my uncle is in town, a fact I learned from the texts that he bombarded me with while I was busy with Ember.

Wouldn’t it be something to date her in real life? Take her to meet my fucked-up family. I cringe at the thought of carrying out such a task. I’ve never had a real-life girlfriend. I’ve never had sex with someone consensually, and no one has ever lived to tell the tale either.

I frown at that, and then spend the next ten minutes getting dressed; pulling on a pair of dark jeans and a white T-shirt. I style my hair and glare at myself in the mirror, taking in the ink on my arms and the way I don’t look like such a pretty boy without wearing long sleeves. No, the stubble along my jaw quickly eliminates that assumption as well. I shove my wallet into my back pocket and head out for my appointment.

“Jax,” the doorman gives me a nod when I make it to the lobby and head out into the street. It’s a short walk to the therapist’s office and, for the duration of that time, I consider Ember, working away in that shitty little bookstore. I could give her more than that, although I have to admit that I admire her tenacity to thrive and wallow willfully in her poverty.

“Hey,” a voice causes me to stop in my tracks.

I spin around to see none other than the reason my balls are blue.

“Hey…” I keep my voice light, pretending like I don’t know who she is.

“Did you ever give those books to your mom for her birthday?” Ember’s eyes are alight with curiosity.

I rub the back of my neck, reminding myself that she heard my voice last night. I have to be careful. “Yeah, I did. You’re the girl at the bookstore, right?” I add, like it just dawned on me.

Her smile fades slightly as she fingers the leather strap of her cross-body bag. “Yeah, that’s me. Sorry if I was being creepy.”

I laugh, rocking back on the heels of my black Vans. “Nah, not at all. Brave to confront a near stranger on the street.”

Her cheeks blush a deeper crimson. “Oh God, I’m sorry.”

‘Oh God, oh God.’ I hear her cry out in my head. The people shuffling around us become a blur as I take her in; her dark, skinny jeans clinging to her hips, her Converses mirroring my casual shoes, and her hair pulled up in a high ponytail. It’s fucking cute, and I can’t stop imagining fisting that hair into my hand. But also…

Why is she in this part of town?

“You wanna grab a coffee?” I blurt out before realizing what the fuck I’m saying. “There’s a nice place just up the street.”

Her brows shoot skyward, as if she’s surprised. “Really?”

All the sirens about me doing something wrong are going off in my head, but there I am, ignoring them.

“Unless you’re supposed to be at work,” I say carefully, halfway digging into why she’s not there.

“I called in sick,” she laughs, raking her fingers through her hair. “I had a bit of a long night.”

I bet you did.

“Mm, I get that,” I respond, fighting the urge to ask for details. “Must be why you’re on the other side of the city.”

“Nailed it,” she laughs, her smile reaching her eyes this time. “And I could go for some coffee—if you have time, of course.”

Who needs therapy?

“Yeah, I was just heading there,” I say coolly, nodding in the direction I was traveling. Luckily for me there is a coffee shop a few blocks down from the therapist’s office. Ember gives me the sweetest fucking grin, and falls into step beside me, stealing glances in my direction.

She’s attracted to me, even maskless me.

“So,” I clear my throat, gazing down at her and ignoring the ache of my cock. “Why a bookstore?”

“I don’t know,” she says with a sigh. “I’m actually fixing to take on a second job as a bartender.”

For brawny boy, Josh.

“Ah, I see,” I answer. “Me too, actually. I just interviewed for a position.”

“Oh? Where?”

“The Golden Dog,” I answer, already knowing her reaction.

“ Seriously?!” she exclaims. “That’s where I’m working!”

“No shit?” I feign total surprise. “That’s crazy. I just spend a lot of time in the area, so I thought it would be cool.”

“I hope Josh hires you.” She giggles like a little kid, and I’m not sure what to think about it—mostly because it rattles my fucking chest. She’s so na?ve right now, and I find it… cute.

“Yeah, we’ll see.” Never mind the fact that I’ve already accepted the position. I need to know this Josh guy better, and this was by far the easiest way to do it—though I was hoping that Ember wouldn’t be around for that. I didn’t know she was going to work for him, too.

I grab the door handle and pull the door open, holding it for her.

“After you.” I gesture for her to enter and I take in her ass as she steps into the hipster coffee shop. I appreciate the round shape, smiling to myself as I know exactly what it looks like without the denim covering it. I blow out a sharp breath.

Be normal. Be cool. Play this right.

I’m careful not to touch Ember as we step up to the counter to order. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to have as much contact as possible, but there’s also the issue that I’m not sure how close I want to get to her this way.

“What can I get you?” the barista asks the two of us.

“I’ll have a caramel macchiato,” she answers, and then looks up at me.

“Just a small black coffee.” I ignore the way she raises her brows at me. I step up to pay for the drinks, swiping my card.

“Thanks,” Ember says, her voice meek for whatever reason.

“Yeah, only fair when I’m the one who asked,” I tell her, shooting her a lopsided grin.

Her cheeks blush, and I wonder what’s going through her head as we scoot down the counter to wait for the coffees to be ready. I shove my hands into my pockets, trying to keep my heartbeat steady. I’m a calculating, conniving serial killer. Not whoever the fuck she thinks is taking her to coffee, but…

But I feel way out of my element right now.

“Here you go,” the barista slides them across the countertop, and I pick them up, holding Ember’s out for her. We find a table in the back and take a seat. Her back is to the door, while I sit facing it.

“So, Xander,” she says, taking a sip of her hot drink. “Are you a native to NYC?”

I hesitate, unprepared for these kinds of questions. I clearly didn’t think this part through. “Kind of,” I answer her honestly. “My mom moved here to live with my uncle when I was in high school. Originally, we lived in Connecticut, though. You?”

“No,” she says, letting out a sigh. “My parents live on the other side of the country, in Utah.”

“Utah?” I can’t hide my surprise. “You don’t seem like someone from Utah.”

She narrows her eyes. “I don’t know how to take that, but okay.”

“You seem like you’re from the city, is what I mean,” I chuckle, running my finger across the fine dust on the tabletop. I cringe, the tidy perfectionist in me is instantly sickened. “It’s a compliment.”

“Oh,” she says, blowing out a puff of air. “I guess I always assume the worst.”

“Fair enough.” I force myself to take a sip of the bitter liquid. I never go out to get coffee. It’s always disappointing—and this time is no different. But I don’t show it. “Tell me more about yourself. All I know is that you spend a lot of time reading.”

She laughs. “Not really. I don’t have as much time to read as you’d think.”

“Oh?” I raise a brow. “So you haven’t read the books you recommended?” And I threw them away in the trash.

She visibly shrinks in the chair, eyes darting down to her cup. “Guilty.”

I can’t help it. I smile. “Hey, whatever the job calls for. No judgment from me.”

“Thanks,” she mumbles, her confidence waning right in front of me. I tilt my head as I study her for a few beats, catching her eyes down on her drink. She’s so incredibly confident in front of everyone else I’ve seen her with… Why is she doing this with me? I can’t decide if I like it or not.

“If you’re not reading or working, what do you do in your free time?” I feel like I’m reciting online suggestions for a first date—and this, well, this isn’t a fucking date. Er. Maybe it is? I don’t know.

“I hang out with my friends,” she perks up. “My best friend, Josh, owns the bar you interviewed at. He’s been my friend since college here in the city.”

And he’s in love with you.

“It’s good to have friends like that,” I say instead, feigning support.

She nods eagerly. “He’s always been there for me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without him, so many times. Moving to the city from a small town was really tough at first. I’m thankful I did it in college, though.”

“I bet,” I say, just as my phone begins to ring. I pull it out of my pocket and see my uncle’s name on the screen. Shit. I hold up a finger. “I should probably take this.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.”

I push back from my chair and step away before answering. I do not want her to catch even a single word of this conversation.