To the psycho of my dreams. I've lost touch with you and I feel, I know, that each and every story I've ever written in my bullshit life has been about you. I love you. Wherever you are. Whatever you are. All I ever wanted was someone who would love me obsessively, hopelessly. I've lost my faith. I've lost my way, my dreams and you. I'm sucked dry with nothing left.
"Ah, shit," I hiss as I pick myself up off the ground. Training for this bullshit half marathon is truly killing me. As I rise to my feet I notice that both my palms and my left knee are scraped and bleeding. I sigh and adjust my hat.
"Whoa, are you ok? I saw that stumble you took." A male voice behind me states. I whip my head around to see an attractive sweaty man in front of me dressed in jogging shorts and nothing else.
"Uh, yeah, thank you." I meet his eyes for a moment noting that they are green but I quickly look away. It's a habit, I guess, I hate to look at people for long in the eye. Most people are disappointing and not worth really seeing.
"You're bleeding." He says softly.
My eyes flicker back to him and I see his muscled body, the sexy torso and chiseled abs, the lean legs of a runner and again those insanely green eyes before bringing my hands up and turning them over to look at them. They do look like a hot mess but what can I do? I have to finish up this run and then I can clean up at my house.
"Yeah, I know."
He takes a step towards me and I back away from him, what is he crazy? In this day and age I could have any number of diseases.
"I won't hurt you." Again in that soft voice, it's a voice I would use on my job. His words are ironic too, you see I just got divorced. My ex-husband was, is, a good man but in the end I just wanted more.
I wanted passion and love, in the end when we argued it always boiled down to me not feeling like he was taking care of me. Sure, he paid the bills and all that stuff but in the end the sex was passionless and I knew that there was a piece of myself that I always held back, that I was just unwilling to give up.
You see, when I grew up I was the fat, ugly burden. Sure I was a smart girl but I wasn't beautiful and willowy thin. I was just average. Also for some reason I was a whore and that was really funny being called that by my father because in the end I've only been with one man and that was my ex-husband.
So I grew up and became uber responsible and it showed. I'm a nurse and I take care of others, I am educated with a bachelor's degree and I have a good job and live a clean life.
I guess I just can't let go of my control, in the end I have never cum no matter what my ex-husband did and eventually stopped doing, even by myself I never can let go.
So when I decided to end my marriage I was sad but I didn't really cry and that was the scary part because I always thought if you love someone then it should hurt when you are apart but inside I was just coldly indifferent.
So it therefore wasn't love, right?
I gave him everything and walked away with just my clothes and my two cats. We had nothing together anyway no kids, no mortgage, it was a clean break, for me at least.
When I was a girl being called all that shit I used to cry at night and dream of a man who would take me away from everything, someone who would take care of me, someone who would love me passionately. But in my heart I knew.
I was never meant to be any man's wife.
Love is something I don't think that I can really understand or truly give. That scares me.
All the bullshit romance novels that I read like candy always paint this superhero guy who comes and takes you away from yourself, a man who fights for you, loves you, dies for you.
Reality is a husband who sits on his ass and sucks the life out of you.
Thank god we had no kids. I don't even really like them and when I would look at my ex-husband I never thought, I would die if I did not have your child.
I shudder when I think about that now.
So one of my fellow nurses tells me that since I'm newly divorced and assumedly depressed I should train to run this half marathon with her and I agree like a sucker.
I end up falling on my ass and listening to this totally smoking hot half naked man tell me he won't hurt me, the shit is laughable.
Next thing I bet he'll tell me is that he'll take care of me.
"I know." I say and tugging on my cap again I turn in the direction of my house and begin to run.
"Wait." He calls.
Yeah, I think, sure I'll wait for him. What else is going on in my life?
I stop but I don't turn around he jogs up in front of me and I stare down resolutely at his shoes, beat up nikes, a simple guy, I like that.
I'm not a simple girl.
"What's your name?"
I sigh. Maybe I am depressed because even I can't believe the next words that come out of my mouth as I look up into his eyes. "Look guy, you are crazy hot, I admit it. I'd totally fuck you but you don't want me. So let's cut the shit and I'll just move my ass along and we can pretend you didn't just see my fat ass on the ground. Anyway, a guy like you, always wants the hot girl at his side and let's face it, I'm not beautiful enough for you."
Way to unload the psychodrama of my life onto this poor bastard.
But then again the look of utter astonishment and his dropped jaw are pretty satisfying.
"What?" He even holds up his hands and takes a step back.
Yeah, I'm not meant to be with any man.
"See ya." I turn then and continue on my run.
I'm back at work the next day having forgotten about the hot runner when I decide to run again that night. As soon as I step out my door I see the hot guy running by my house again shirtless. Oh shit, I think and I actually freeze, my abrupt movement catches his eye and he slows his stride for a moment looking at me.
"Hey, psycho!" He stops on the sidewalk smiling. What are the odds?
I want to throw a brick at him.
But then again I am pretty psychotic so I can't really fault him for calling me that.
"Hot boy." I incline my head at my him.
"Are your hands ok?"
He looks a little down at my short retort.
"Look," He steps closer to my porch the light above my door reflects blue black on his raven hair. "I just want to say that I thought about what you said and I have come to a decision." I nod for him to continue with a smirk on my face. "I think that you are beautiful enough for me and I would like to share my crazy hotness with you."
I can't help but laugh, this is too surreal to be happening, not to some dried out bitch like me.
"You are funny."
"So psycho," His voice lowering in its tone becoming smoky, sexy. He steps up onto my porch to stand in front of me. "You said that you would fuck me, so here I am and I want you."
I've never taken a risk in my life, other than getting married of course and seeing as how that turned out you can understand my hesitancy to fully take advantage of what hot boy was saying.
Besides he was probably just jerking my chain.
"Look, hot boy,"
He cuts me off again stepping closer to me reaching out and taking off my hat letting my dark hair come down. "I like how you say my name. I wonder how it would sound when you scream it."
His green eyes capture mine, I don't think to be scared. I feel this heat that I've never felt before in my cunt and I realize distantly that this is lust, desire.
And he's for real.
I step back into the open doorway of my house trying to put some distance between us regain my precious control but he follows me matching me step for step, like a dance. He reaches out his hand and strokes my flushed cheek. I shiver at his touch.
"Come on psycho, let me in." He whispers. My chest rises and falls as if I'm all out sprinting, I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, this is the single most sexually charged moment I have ever experienced. A total stranger whispering such deliciously sensual things. At the tip of my tongue is the word yes. Yes to whatever you want, yes to what I know I need.
I ask myself in that moment how brave am I?
Can I just take what I want? Especially when it is so freely offered?
"I want to Marcus, I really do." I take a deep breath and almost lose it when I see him arch his black brow. "But,"
"No buts, psycho." His eyes fall to my mouth and he strokes my mouth with his thumb fingering a tiny scar I have on my lower lip. His eyes meet mine once again as his hand falls from my mouth to rest on the base of my neck. "Just yes, say yes."
He steps even closer to me and I inhale his scent of sweat and wind, I savor the body heat I feel rolling off him in waves.
I am psychotic because this shit is turning me on so fast, I can't believe I'm feeling this way with a total stranger.
"You are beautiful," I whisper unchecked. He smiles softly at that, a genuine smile of pleasure. My fear overtakes me, I'm not brave. Not brave enough to be this man's lover even when so boldly asked.
I step back into the house quickly grabbing the door, he places his hand on it stopping me from slamming it shut. A sudden ripple of fear shoots up my spine and I think for just a second that he will force his way in and this stranger, this sexy god will turn into my nightmare.
"I'll be back, psycho. I want you." His eyes burn into mine and my knees are weak and shaking. "And I always get what I want."
"Marcus, don't kill me, ok?"
He bursts out laughing literally shaking with his mirth.
"I promise not to kill you, ok?" He finally wheezes out. "You are funny, psycho. I'll give you that." He cocks his head to the side narrowing his lovely eyes. "Maybe some more too, if you're a good girl."
I pause at that and he lets his hand fall away from the door.
"You sure you don't want to invite me in?" His hand on my throat moves down to the center of my chest stopping at my heart. The touch is intimate I think for a moment, a touch like that between two strangers.
I stare as his sweat covered chest and all I can really think about is licking the sweat off him, stroking my hands on his tan skin being the inner slut I know that I always wanted to be.
My eyes meet his.
"Tell me what my name is and then maybe you'll get an invite." It's a dare, a challenge and I figure he's lazy, women come easy to him obviously with that model face and sexy body what would he want with me?
Just as he opens his mouth I cut him off. "Don't be a stalker though, I'd hate to have to deal with a restraining order and all that paperwork just so you could get all mad and renege on your promise not to kill me."
Marcus stands there in the twilight and shakes his head as he laughs. "I'll get you psycho, I promise you that."
"You should know that I've never cum before, so I'm probably frigid." What can I say, the shit just pours out.
His widened eyes and open half smiling mouth nearly make me laugh.
"I'll probably be the worst fuck you've ever had. Oh yeah, I've only ever been with one man."
"Holy shit." Marcus breathes taking a step back off the porch.
I hold up my hands in a what can I do? gesture.
"I'm going to fuck you so good. Damnit!" He stomps on the ground with one foot then lunges forward his hands on my doorframe. His face is in mine with our lips inches apart. I can feel his hot breath on my lips, I think for a moment that he'll kiss me, I know that I'll allow it, want it. He knows it too. I can see it in his eyes, how the black pupils dilate and his verdant eyes start to burn. "Let me in, come on psycho, it's obvious you need it bad."
I shake my head but my resistance is only holding by a thread.
"Come on," He whispers. When I refuse he groans. "God, I bet that cunt is so tight!" He turns then back onto the street once there he turns back to face me and shouts for all the world to hear. "I will fuck you, psycho! I swear to god I will taste that tight cunt, fuck!" He takes off running then and I sink to my floor laughing in hysteria. Not really knowing what to think or how to react to this encounter.
I never expect to see him again.
So three days later when I'm sitting on my couch reading another candy novel and the doorbell rings, my heart stops. I think, oh shit, it's him.
My pulse pounds and my chest locks up. I'm dressed in my favorite raggedy T-shirt and panties, what the hell I'm alone? Even my long dark hair is uncombed and falling over my shoulders in a mass of waves.
But fuck it, I think, if it is hot boy Marcus then he should know what he is getting into. I reach out and open the door standing there with the book dangling from my hand.
"Well, shit." I purr. I can't help it, he just brings it out of me.
Hot boy Marcus stands before me in the flesh and he looks divine. His black hair is slightly long and it looks as if he's raked his fingers through it to get it off his face. He has a day's growth of beard on him and it gives his sexy sculpted face a hard edge that makes him look dangerous and touchable. He's more dressed than I am in a pair of worn black jeans and a black T-shirt that stretches over his lean frame.
Yeah, totally fuckable.
"Well aren't you every man's dream answering the door in nothing but your panties." He places his hands on the doorframe and leans into me stopping just scant inches from me. "Did you miss me, Sheridan? Did you think I would forget you?"
Son of a bitch.
He actually found out my name.
Not like it's that hard what with the internet and all but still, he actually took up my challenge. Now the real question was would I hold up to my end of the deal and let him in?
I literally couldn't say a word.
"That's an unusual name you have. I think it suits you, it's pretty, exotic." He smiles at me eating up my hesitation and surprise, I watch his tongue as it runs along the bottom of his top teeth. "I bet you hate it when the other girls call you Sheri." His voice is low, intimate sending shivers down my spine. My nipples harden and I don't know if it's from the cold night air and my state of undress or his words.
His eyes drop to my chest and he sucks in a breath before his eyes meet mine once again. Marcus arches a black brow. "So?"
I clear my suddenly parched throat and croak. "So?"
"Are you going to let me in now, Sheridan?" I start to take in a breath to answer but he cuts me off. "You should know that if you let me in I will fuck you. I just want to be honest. I've thought about nothing else but fucking you." He leans in closer taking one of his hands away from the doorframe running the backs of his fingers down my cheekbone, over my mouth, down the center of my chest, over my jumping stomach to boldly cup my cunt. "I have to know if my little psycho spoke the truth. Is this cunt as tight as I dreamed? Were you really only with one man?" He lightly squeezes my cunt. "Don't worry, I'll make you cum." He leans his head in so his breath is on my lips almost kissing me with his luscious lips. "All you have to do is let me in."
Big bad wolf.
Let him in, my evil half whispers.
Let. Him. In.
The book falls from my hand distantly I hear it hit the floor as I wrap my arms around his neck and pull his lips to mine molding my body to his loving the hardness, the strength and the heat pouring off him. His hand moves from my cunt to bring his arms around me clutching me closer as our lips entwine.
The kiss is hot and passionate something wild and untamed that I have never experienced before. Our tongues meet and I taste sweet fire. He moves his hips into mine and I feel a rush of burning heat penetrate through my panties from his crotch. I move from his lips and moan as Marcus' mouth moves down my neck pressing biting kisses to my shoulder which he nips.
Through a haze I hear the front door slam close and I realize Marcus must have kicked it shut as he was kissing me.
I pull away for a moment still locked in his arms gazing into his green eyes. We are all alone now. There is no one to hear me scream.
I reach one of my hands from his neck and trace just my fingertips down his cheek feeling the stubble on his cheek rasp me. "Marcus," I whisper. He is beautiful, like a dream I used to have as a child and silly teenager.
"Don't stop me." His green eyes bore into me, demanding this of me.
I haven't the strength to resist.
He reaches up clasping my wrists in his hands in a firm grip easing them slowly away from his body, his eyes never leaving mine. I can feel my heart racing in my chest, the air between us is electrified, I don't know what to expect from him, from this situation I have wrought.
Just as I inhale to speak what most likely would have been a protestation of some sort I am suddenly thrust away from Marcus and spun so that my back is facing him with my right arm up behind my back, my left arm he allows to go free so that his other hand buries itself in my wild hair. This sudden change has left me dizzy and scared as I find myself with my back against Marcus feeling his heart pounding as mine. With the hand in my hair he pulls on it so slowly forcing my chin up and then to the side exposing the tender flesh to which he bestows a long wet lick that sends shivers through me. He kisses my pulse leaving his lips just there for a moment savoring the flow of blood underneath the skin. My free hand goes behind me to his hip.
I'm not stopping him, I dimly realize.
I don't think I could ever stop him.
I don't think I'd ever want to.
Not when he holds me like this, like no one ever has.
I just want to feel that he is real. That this, between us, is real.
After a long moment he walks me quickly over to the couch pushing me over the arm of the sofa onto my stomach, I use my free arm to prevent me from totally face planting into the seat but Marcus keeps his grip on my arm behind my back and the slight pain lets me know he is in total control of this situation.
The t-shirt I'm wearing has fallen forward and due to my position my panties are showing.
Marcus traces the fingers of one hand from my neck down my back touching my exposed skin down to my panties the edge of which he traces with one finger.
"Surrender, my love. Give yourself to me."
My chest locks up at his words and I want nothing else more than to do what he wants.
I feel him lean slightly harder into me then the slick snap of metal. My mouth goes dry and my pulse races, my feet suddenly feel tingly as all the blood rushes to my core in my fear. Something cold and thin slides up from the edge of my panties and I hear the tearing of fabric and feel the t-shirt slip down my sides.
I realize he has a knife and that he cut away my shirt with it. I feel the hard handle of it in his hand as he slides his fingers down from my shoulder blades through the trench of my spine back to my panties.
"Are you afraid?" He whispers bending down tracing his tongue down the same path his hand had followed. He kisses my ribs, it shocks me and I jump slightly.
I then feel the blade against my skin once again sliding underneath the elastic band of my panties hearing the slight scraping sound as he moves the knife along my back to my hips where he pauses. "Well?"
I feel excited, open, emotionally frazzeled but deep down I want this. I want Marcus. If I die, if he kills me at least I would have tasted something true. I could have tasted, touched real passion and not the shit in my books, not the fucked up fantasies in my head. Marcus would give me something real, something maybe worth dying for.
My jaw shakes and I'm unable to speak.
He flicks the knife and slices through one side of my panties I inhale sharply as I hear the tear and feel the cotton slip down my hip.
He pulls on my arm then forcing me to stand up, immediately I am enveloped in his heat and drugging scent. My t-shirt falls down over my breasts stopping at my waist where my captured arm holds it my panties are still up as they are caught between my thighs.