Page 17 of Creep (Vulture Hollow MC #2)

“That makes no sense,” I call back as the rain soaks my T-shirt, making it stick to my skin.

I glance over my shoulder when something creaks.

Lo and behold, I spot a face in the window of the nearest dwelling.

“Get down from there! I’m not talking to you like this, with people listening in like we’re two clowns in the circus! ”

Creep opens his mouth, then closes it several times but says nothing. Great, now we’re not only clowns. We’re also mimes.

“I’ve had it! I’m getting up there,” I say with new determination, and climb the balustrade, though I don’t yet know how to get to the roof. Creep is taller than me, and seems to have experience with things like this, but it won’t deter me.

My threat wakes him up at least, and I hear some shuffling on the roof as I grab the drainpipe. It’s slimy, perhaps because of moss, but I ignore the unpleasant sensation.

“Don’t. You’ll slip!”

“Oh, so now you’re worried?” I challenge him, leaning back a little in an attempt to catch a glimpse of him.

“But you’re leaving me no choice. Might as well break my leg trying to join you up there or go down with pneumonia,” I call out, closing my eyes when a huge drop of water falls straight on my forehead.

If he doesn’t care about his own wellbeing, maybe he’ll care about mine enough to end this madness.

I try to pull myself up as I continue talking, “You know, I’ve never been good at this kind of stuff. When I was a kid, I broke my arm falling off a chair. Freak accident.”

“Okay! Okay! I’m coming down,” Creep says and slides off the roof with the agility of a cat, then drops to the wet ground with just as much grace.

A part of me freezes, as if I’m a mouse that’s carelessly tempting a predator closer, but I can’t help wanting him back with me.

My heart beats faster when his shadowy figure approaches, but I keep holding on to the damn drainpipe, because everything is slippery, and I do worry about ending up with a sprained ankle or worse.

I haven’t thought this through.

Before I can consider asking for help, Creep’s arms are around me and he helps me down with the strength of a much bigger guy. I don’t get this thing with him. He’s not even kissed me. This thing between us is so messy. But also… different, like nothing I’ve experienced before.

“Go inside, don’t catch a cold,” he mumbles, stepping away. Now that he’s wet, the hair covers even more of his face in sticky streaks.

“Only if you come with me. We can talk inside, but you have to promise you won’t just run,” I say and reach for his hand. It’s surprisingly warm, as if he generates excessive heat and could keep me warm even in this rain.

Is it wrong that I find the dark eyes watching me from behind damp tresses sexy? He lets me lead him back inside.

“I mean, we’re both wet now anyway,” I laugh, locking the door behind him. “So what’s with the shower? Do you have a secret waterfall in the caves that you prefer? I did hear there are hot springs nearby.”

Creep’s… trembling and hunches his shoulders even more than usual. “It’s loud. So loud. I hate that moment when it starts, and hits the tiles, and then it just doesn’t stop making noise.”

Oh… Oh .

Regret and guilt wash over me with such intensity they’re making my stomach ache.

“Why… why didn’t you just say that? I’m so sorry, it didn’t even occur to me,” I mumble, rubbing his arm up and down.

He smells of the rain now—a cool, earthy aroma, with just a hint of musk. “So you’re sensitive to noise, huh—”

"Because it's stupid, so I deserve this. Who's afraid of the fucking shower? I could have it. No one can tell me what to do," he mutters and, to my utter shock, slaps the side of his head.

I grab his wrist and touch the reddened spot on his cheekbone. “No! Don’t hurt yourself! I’m sorry!”

Goddamn it, now my voice is cracking, because I’m an emotional wreck. No wonder normal guys stay away from me. Unfortunately, I don’t have a tub I could fill up for us, so the shower is our only option, but it’s not like this place has crazy water pressure anyway.

“How about we put on a very weak stream, so it just drizzles out and doesn’t bang on the tiles?” I will be investigating much deeper into what’s going on with Creep, but I don’t want to overwhelm him with questions on day one.

I want to cuddle him so badly, but I’m not sure if that wouldn’t be too much for him right now, so I let him take his time instead of babbling on as usual.

“That… maybe. Can you turn it on yourself?” he whispers.

I nod, offering him a smile I hope is encouraging. “So it hits my skin instead of the tiles? Yes. And you can choose how hot you want it too. I don’t mind.”

His shoulders relax a little. “Your skin…” he repeats. “Naked?”

I meet his gaze, and instead of taking hold of him again, I step back, inviting him in with my eyes. “I have very nice skin, because I use lotion after every shower. Do you want to feel it?”

His breath becomes shallow, and when I take a step back, toward the bathroom, this time he follows. “In the shower? I have to shower to touch you?”

What kind of question is that? Isn’t that the bare minimum? But I already see this is a touchy subject, so I step right into the small space with tiles in a mixture of primary colors to go with the clown theme of the living room.

“You do. But don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” I add, offering him a wide smile. After all, I’ve handled men way more difficult than he is.

I expect him to balk, bristle, tell me he doesn’t need that, but he just nods and scoots down to take off his shoes. I’ve noticed them before. Unlike the ones the other bikers wear, they have a thinner sole and no steel caps.

“Can I keep my clothes on?”

My mind stalls like something caught in the cogs with a loud screech.

Deep breath. He’s different. A bit weird, but if I want to peel away the layers and see what’s inside him, I need to act with caution. So I smile and pick on the hem of my T-shirt with two fingers. “I’ll remove mine if you remove yours.”

I can only imagine the war going on in his head as he puts the shoes away, because he’s watching my fingers as if his life depends on it, yet it still takes him forever to speak.

“Okay,” he says with a deep breath and first takes off his leather vest, then peels off the T-shirt underneath. It clings to his face like it doesn’t want to let go.

Oh was it worth the wait. He is solid muscle.

Not in a bodybuilder way, but he’s so lean his abs are visible even in the low light.

He doesn’t have much hair, and his skin is milky perfection over sharp lines with a few scars and a constellation of beauty spots.

There’s something so strange about him, as though he’s not a man but a creature evolved through crawling in caves and disappearing in the shadows.

And if that’s the case, I’m starting to understand why he doesn’t know how to take care of his hair or skin.

Now I’m dying to see what’s in his pants too, but he’s waiting, watching me as if he’s starving but doesn’t know how to eat. He trembles a little.

I’ve been lusted after, admired, but never in this way, and I can’t help teasing him a bit when I first gather the loose fabric above my navel, showing him a sliver of bare skin.

My temples pulse. My lips heat up, longing for touch, but I know I need to be patient with this strange man, so I finally pull up the fabric, presenting him with my slim form, my pink nipples, and golden skin.

“You’re… very beautiful,” Creep says with a deep exhale, and shifts his weight. Is he already getting a boner? I’m flattered.

“Just wait until you see the rest of me,” I tease, stepping out of my slip-ons. My finger slides along the waist of my pants, and I meet his gaze, one brow up. Your move, Creep.

His eyes grow wider as if I’ve cast a spell on him, and it’s kinda cute that he seems to be calculating what to do, because we both know he wants to see me naked. And for that, he needs to pay the toll. It’s both hot and a little fun that he wants me this much.

“Just ignore the… you know,” he says and pink once more graces his face as he unbuttons his jeans. He has such beautiful hands. Big, veiny, with long fingers, adorned with inked stars. He bites his nails, but that’s nothing a manicure can’t fix.

I want for this man to need me like we both need air, so when his erection is released, I do everything but ignore it.

I don’t know how that would be possible, really.

I gasp at the sight of the glistening tip, but he’s asked me to not pay attention to it, so I quell the need to get down to my knees and sample what he’s been packing. My mouth waters anyway.

I slide off my pants. The briefs go too, and I’m facing him naked, my own cock half hard, but if I get any closer to Creep, it will soon be bobbing against my lower stomach, eager for touch. “Look at me,” I whisper.

My ego is the size of Jupiter when he glances from my cock to my face and back. I’m pretty proud of making him speechless. Suddenly, the pale light in the bathroom feels intimate, and I’m dying to be closer to him, whatever it is that ends up happening between us tonight.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it,” Creep says and covers his crotch.

Is he really apologizing for reacting to my naked body? I don’t know what to make of it, but one way or another, I will find out more about him. I will have him cover me with his toned form like a jaguar about to bite into my neck.

I can almost sense his warm breath already.

“For what?” I continue in a low voice, resting my hip against the wall. “I would be offended if that didn’t happen in this situation.”

A wink.

Then, I step into the shower stall, which is, thankfully, large enough for both of us.

Creep follows me warily. “I know I’m not as attractive as other men, and then you’re so perfect, an angel even in name, and I’m staring like I deserve to watch you,” he mutters and turns his head to the wall.