Free Divine Liaisons by Poppet

I wouldn't have tried appealing to your intellect. Presenting myself to you as a scholar was an error. You're competitive, and you respect physical prowess. You respect might, speed, skill.”
    Sighing, he pushes his hard fingers through his black hair.
    “Now I'm stuck in this fucking disguise. But you, now all you will see, is me. The infection will keep you attune to me...” He leans forward, whispering into my face, “And all of my might. In all of my glory.”
    Home. I want to go home. I don't want to be with you anymore.
    “Home.”
    Hey, I spoke!
    “Yes, I am. I am your home.”
    He misinterprets it. Egocentric a-hole.
    “Take me...” Come on, do this Sarah. Focus.
    But he thinks – oh God – he thinks 'take me'. It's in his eyes, his face, all lusty and passionate.
    “Home!” squeals out.
     

 
    Chapter 11
     
     
    It's too late, his lips are already touching mine.
    I'm desperate to shove hard. Knee him. Break his nose. I need a gun. I definitely need a gun.
    He's breathing into me, tracing that hideously long tongue around my mouth.
    Lifting me off the couch, he starts walking.
    Na-ah! No!
    “ Relax.”
    “ Nuuuuh.”
    He's not walking to the stairs, we're going...? Wait. The car! Oh thank God! He's taking me to the car.
    “Don't start a riot,” he says, putting me in the passenger seat. “I'll be right back with your clothes.”
    That reminds me.
    Looking down, I'm drowning in another man's shirt. And it freaks me out. There's no comfort here, at all. It's too personal, like he's staking his claim, replacing the image he had of me wearing Dustin's sweatshirt.
    He returns, now wearing a tight thinsulate black vest with long sleeves, hiding the marks on both arms, and invisible wings. It gives him thug appeal. Watching him as he slips into the car next to me, putting my stuff in the back, I have to admit black is his color. It suits him. His hair is really glossy, long, touching his shoulders, thick but fine. It looks soft.
    “You're staring, princess.”
    I want to be able to argue. How dare he incapacitate my ability to speak.
    Turning back, he smiles at me, running his hand up my naked thigh.
    “ Give me that week, and I'd bet my rank you'll have a change of heart.”
    Rank? What rank? Fuhhhk. He's probably military with the stuff he works on. Gene warfare, the dawn of the new age. What was he really doing in Russia?
    When he moves, that subliminal music whispers over me, buzzing against my skin, doing a fun ride through my ear canals. How does he make music? For the record, it's not possible.
    He leans over me, pulling the seatbelt on. He's radiating heat! And smells like dry sand, covered in honey. It makes me smile, thinking of ants running all over him. Hahahaaa.
    “You're smiling. Careful now, I might get the impression you're going soft on me.”
    There's not enough room in this car for your ego.
    “Your narrowed eyes speak a thousand words.” He sits back in his seat, stretching long legs out to the pedals. “I told you looks are deceiving. Believe me yet?”
    Laughing at my expression, he starts the car, and immediately the music that was playing earlier scowls into the four corners and out the back window at the road. Daring anyone to mess with six strings and an epileptic drum-kit.
    Right, so everything I thought I knew about Erik is bullshit. This is who he really is. I still can't find much to like.
     
    The drive home is quick and painless. It's late, no one's about. I'm alone, in the dark, with madness.
    Shutting the engine off directly in front of my door, he gets out, coming around, unbuckling me, and hoisting me into his arms. Holding too tight, cradled against his chest, he pauses at my front door, fishing my key out of his pocket. He's probably made himself a copy in the time I was 'under'.
    I need to change the locks.
    Taking me through to the bedroom, moonlight is our only witness. Apprehension starts sharpening claws into my insides.
    Laying me down, he dips, kissing me