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Twisted Hearts: Book 2 of the Twisted Minds series by Keta Kendric (12)

12 Megan

Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten myself off in the window like that because I couldn’t stop thinking about Aaron. Shit, my crazy ass even wished it were him watching me. Instead, it was likely creepy old Mr. Hancock.

His old butt probably got off on watching me. I may have even given his ass a heart attack.

Since he was so damned nosey, he damn sure saw a hell of a lot of me and was likely on peeping-Tom overload after my scene.

A cool shower after my display and writing until my fingers started to ache hadn’t done any good to help me sleep. I couldn’t find peace. My nerves were on edge, and an anxious, paranoid feeling had been riding me all day. I couldn’t stop peeking out of my damn windows.

I was glad I’d made plans to move because every time I started to feel like this, something crazy happened. After peeing and washing my hands, I sat on the edge of my bed. Thoughts of Aaron plagued me. His face flashed across my mind and caused my nipples to tighten and my pussy to throb with a level of expectancy that wouldn’t be satisfied. Goose bumps rose on various parts of my body at times when it felt like the phantom touch of his hands had stroked me.

The man had a fucking hold on me that I couldn’t shake. When I was with him, he had me open for him so badly that I was ready to do all types of sinful sexual acts.

My gaze traveled through the dark and found my laptop, but I decided I didn’t want to start writing because I wouldn’t stop until daybreak.

Instead, I strolled through my dark bedroom and headed for the kitchen. I didn’t bother turning any lights on because I knew the place like the back of my hand. Most nights, just sitting in my bed or in the living room and staring out at the moonlit view was enough to calm me whenever my body begged for Aaron. Maybe a nice chunk of cheesecake would settle me down and give me that empty-calorie, false happiness vibe.

I gripped the refrigerator door with one hand and grabbed the slice of cheesecake that I hadn’t finished with yesterday’s surf-and-turf dinner I’d prepared.

As I pushed the door to the refrigerator closed, the container in my hand dropped to the floor, and I jumped about as high as a cat on a hot tin roof. My heart thundered in my chest as my eyes adjusted to the dark figure standing only feet away from me.

When my mind processed who was standing in my kitchen, my body seized. I would have likely pissed all over myself if I hadn’t just used the bathroom. I stood there frozen, a million questions running through my brain.

Afraid didn’t describe my state at this moment. Panicked and terrified weren’t strong enough words either. The crazy shit I’d pulled with the August Knights Motorcycle Club had doubled back to bite my ass off. I was so sure that I’d covered my tracks well, but I’d apparently not covered them well enough.

I’d only been able to pull the stunt off with the MC because I’d finally accepted that I was more twisted than I’d originally led myself to believe. It was like I needed the fear. I needed it like normal people wanted excitement in their lives. However, the level of excitement I craved crossed the line and swerved over into the crazy zone.

I realized that I truly hadn’t experienced true fear of anyone in the MC until I’d glanced into Aaron’s eyes for the first time. There was a depth to his darkness that had rung alarm bells within me, letting me know that no matter how crazy I thought my ass was, his ass was crazier. No matter what I’d seen, he’d seen worse. No matter what I’d done, he’d done worse. I’d seen Aaron kill. I’d seen that dead look he got in his eyes that told me he didn’t feel anything when he took someone’s life.

Since he was here in my kitchen, it meant he’d figured out what I’d done to him and his MC.

“Are you here to kill me?” The question fell from my lips in my normal, easy tone, which was the exact opposite of how I truly felt. My damn insides were threatening to shake out onto my kitchen floor. The cool ceramic tile under my bare feet was the only thing that kept me grounded. My fear was so strong, my body wobbled, trying to keep it contained.

Aaron answered my question by lifting his gun and pointing it at my head. Without shoes, I was eye-level to the top of his chest, so his outstretched arm had the gun leveled with my head. The silence between us, and the barrel of that gun pointed between my eyes made the air in the room freeze. My erratic, adventurous, and often dangerous tendencies had finally caught up with me.

For a while, I thought I was suicidal, but I’d held a gun to my head before, and I’d had a razor at my wrist, but I could never follow through. I enjoyed living enough that it confirmed that being suicidal wasn’t one of my problems.

I’d talked to a couple of therapists who’d pretty much told me in medical terms that I was a few steps from being insane. They hadn’t outright said the word insane. Instead, they used proper medical terms that made the word insane not sound so bad. Like psychotic break, mild psychosis, or disambiguation of the mind.

Maybe I was a functionally insane freak, but if I was insane, what did that make Aaron? Fuck! What did it make me for having feelings for him?

My shaky legs barely held me up as I faced him. My eyes never wavered from the steady hold he had on the raised gun. The darkness kept me from seeing the full view of him, but his presence ignited the dark space of my kitchen with sparks of pure terror.

I was sure that Aaron held some type of feelings for me when I’d lived in his home for those two weeks. He’d given me the best sex of my life, and we could never seem to get enough of each other. He’d told me I’d given him the same in return. Maybe that was the reason he hadn’t pulled the trigger yet. The idea that he might harbor feelings for me urged me to move stupidly closer to him. I inched close enough that I had to tilt my head to avoid stepping into the gun he hadn’t lowered yet. He’d shaved his beard off, and even in the dimness, I’d be damned if he didn’t look more tempting than he had before.

When he lowered the weapon, his movement sent a few splashes of light over his face. He stood, fuming with his eyes dead locked on mine. The veins in his neck and forehead bulged, and his jaw was clenched so tight the bone was threatening to break through the skin.

I could literally feel the anger rolling off his body. His breathing kicked up a notch, but he didn’t say one word, nor did he back away as I inched closer to him and placed my hand against his swelling chest right over his heart.

My gaze never wavered, and although it was dark, I glanced right into the depth of Aaron’s icy stare. His face remained pinched with a fury that I could not only sense, but feel, bounding off his body in angry waves.

“After you kill me, then what are you going to do? Will you pour acid on me and throw me into a deep dark hole?”

My question made a touch of his tension ease. His tense shoulders dropped a hair. Other than raising and dropping the gun, it was the first real reaction he’d shown me. His face remained contorted with so much anger, I hardly recognized him.

He shoved me. No warning, only the strong force of his hand pressed against my chest. The action caused me to stumble back a few paces as I fought to maintain my balance. The quickness of his action stunned me, and I stood glaring at him for a moment.

The clink of his gun sounded when he reached back and sat it on the counter behind him. Then, like before, he delivered another hard shove that sent me back and into the wall hard enough for the quick breath I’d sucked in to shoot out of my mouth.

Aaron didn’t give me time to catch the breath that I’d lost because his broad muscular body was standing over mine. His strong arms rested on either side of my head, the same way he’d stood over me inside his pantry that first time. His harsh breaths whipped through the air and lifted a few strands of my hair that had escaped my messy ponytail.

His face inched closer to mine until his lips sat inches from my shocked parted ones. His breaths washed over my face and mingled with my own labored breathing. We stood in an area that the moonlight cast away most of the shadows, so I could spot the deadly gleam that shone in his eyes.

“I’m going to fuck you first and then I’m going to kill you. Or maybe I’ll kill you while I’m fucking you. I haven’t decided yet.” His words were calm, even, low, and in direct contrast to his actions.

My mind screamed for me to bolt, to duck under his muscular arm and run like hell, but my fucking body refused to move a muscle. The idea of sex with Aaron had my body buzzing with crazy lust. There went my answer. Only a fucking insane person would choose sex over their life.

He placed his left hand on the center of my chest while the right one slid down my stomach until he caught the waistband of my pajama shorts and my panties and yanked them down in one fast sweep.

I even helped him a little by lifting my feet and flinging my legs to kick the bottoms off.

The sound of his belt coming loose and his zipper sliding down registered. He shoved his pants down enough for his dick to pop out. It felt heavy against my stomach, sitting there like a flesh-filled weight.

Aaron had a fucking beast. There was no other way to describe it. He alone shattered every stereotype I’d heard about certain men having small dicks. Aaron had about ten thick inches. The first time I’d seen it, I’d paused and thought about whether I was brave enough to tackle his shit. However, I’d learned from experience that he knew how to use his dick well enough that he’d have you ready to sell your first born to have it inside you—One. More. Time.

Hell, I think I’d just possibly trade my life for a hit. Like now, instead of running for my life, I anticipated how good it would feel to have him inside me. He was so hard, he’d likely cause bodily damage if he took me the way his anger was suggesting he might. He lifted me effortlessly and drove his hard dick into me with such force, I thought he’d driven my body through the damn wall.

He’d told me that he was going to kill me. He’d killed me all right; with his dick shoved so far up my pussy he had knocked the oxygen out of my lungs. The sweet pain and the sinful pleasure overtook me, and my twisted mind didn’t know whether to scream or moan. I think I did a little of both.

He paused for a second, I suppose to gather himself since he was breathing as hard as I was. He started powering strong thrusts into me so that my ass knocked against the wall hard enough that I knew it would bruise. He’d been rough with me before, but this was brutal, and I fucking loved it.

I loved it so much that I found a way to get my legs wrapped around him, which sent his hard thrust upward. My body inched up the wall with every thrust, likely knocking the pictures off my neighbor’s walls. I had a tight grip around his neck, holding him to me as he pounded me into orgasmic bliss.

“Aaron, oh God!” I screamed so loud I’d likely scratched one of my vocal cords. I couldn’t breathe or think. I could only feel his dick buried inside me and the delicious commotion it sparked within my body. It was glorious. It was magnificent. I couldn’t believe I’d had enough willpower to leave this behind after he’d asked me to stay.

His loud roar echoed throughout my kitchen as he filled me with so much hot cum that some of it dripped down the inside of my thigh.

We stood there, breathing hard, connected to each other for what seemed like an eternity. When he realized he still hated me, he flashed a frown before pulling out of me and letting my feet drop to the floor.

“Put some fucking clothes on,” he growled. “You’re coming with me. If you try anything, I’ll make you watch me kill your neighbors just for pissing me off.”

I tipped my head once and moved swiftly, blazing a frantic path towards my bedroom. My wet pussy and ass were going to have to air dry because I had enough good sense to obey his request and hurry the hell up.

When I noticed he hadn’t followed me into my room, I stepped into the bathroom and wiped myself down with a wet soapy towel before I headed towards my dresser. As I picked up a clean pair of purple panties to put on, he stood in my doorway watching my every move. As a testament to him, every pair of panties I owned now were a different shade of purple because it was the color he said he liked on me.

As turned on as he’d had me only moments ago in the kitchen, I was equally as frightened of Aaron now. My frantic fingers fished around in my bottom drawer until I found a loose pair of khakis and a T-shirt to throw on over my sleep tee. I quickly threw on a pair of socks and my best running shoes, in case I got away and had a chance to run.

“Pack some shit. I haven’t decided how long I want to torture you for before I kill you,” he said this while his body filled my bedroom doorway. The gun was back in his hand.

Unable to drink my fear fast enough to function properly, my body trembled as I fumbled with my clothes and personal items. I dropped more items on the floor than I was stuffing into my backpack. Maybe the doctors had gotten it wrong. Maybe I wasn’t insane. If I were, I wouldn’t have good enough sense to be scared right now, right?

Jeans, sweats, T-shirts, panties, and bras were shoved into my backpack. After jamming the items in, it took some effort for me to get the zipper closed.

I aimed my thumb towards the bathroom, and Aaron must have understood that I needed some things from there. After I ran in and grabbed my toiletry bag, I slung my backpack over one shoulder.

When I reached for my purse, my hand halted at Aaron’s angry words, “Leave it!” I was too terrified to look in his direction. “You’re not going to need a purse where you’re going.”

Those words took my breath and left me standing there frozen. He turned out of my doorway and started walking.

That confirmed it. Aaron was definitely going to kill my ass. Now, I’d be faced with finding a way to make him do it faster. It was the only sure-fire way I wouldn’t suffer. I wasn’t afraid to die. I just didn’t want to endure the suffering that sometimes went along with meeting death.

I followed Aaron with hesitant steps, wondering how he was going to do it and where he was taking me to kill me. Thankfully, I’d snatched my cell phone off my dresser and shoved it into my backpack along with my clothes.

Maybe my twisted mind had imagined he’d felt something other than lust for me. Maybe he’d taken pity on me because he knew I was crazy. Since he’d made me pack a bag, I assumed he planned to take me away from Florida. Probably to that Tennessee cliff, so he could throw my body over those jagged rocks and watch as I disappeared into that dark water below.

When I stepped into the elevator with Aaron, the blood in my veins stopped flowing. The only sound I heard was the loud thump of my heart pounding in my ears.

More of my sanity must have been setting in because my mind kept yelling for me to run. And that was exactly what I did when the ding of elevator sounded and door opened. The thundering of my feet beating up the lobby floor and my harsh breathing projected loudly as I attempted to escape Aaron. I had no idea how he did it, but Aaron ran me down so fast that I’d hardly gotten a good stride going.

He yanked me back to him by my backpack so hard that my body turned and smacked into his hard chest. The impact against his firm body knocked the wind out of me, making me cough a few times.

“What the fuck did I tell you, Megan? Do you want me to kill more people than I have to?”

His angry gaze rained down on my wide eyes staring up at him. I shook my head no as my body fought to send air into my starving lungs.

Because of the late hour, there was no one in the lobby that could help me, and it would be as deserted outside. I knew from the many sleepless nights I’d endured that the two security guards that were supposed to be on duty showed up at the start of their shift and didn’t show back up until the last hour of their shift the following morning.

“Scream, and I’ll give you something to really scream for,” he said as his wild eyes bore into mine.

Aaron chaperoned me to the passenger’s side of his truck and assisted by shoving me into the front seat once I’d climbed far enough into the cab. I straightened myself out after landing on my elbow. As I tossed my backpack into the back seat, I scanned the interior of the truck for a weapon as Aaron made his way around the front of the truck.

He hadn’t lost that rigid posture from the lobby and his face remained pinched in anger. Did he expect me not to try to fight for my own life? The next chance I got, I was planning to run again. Without an ID or money, I’d have a hard time making myself disappear. That was if I was lucky enough to get away.

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