Page 5 of Darkness Tempt Me (Bloody Desires #7)

Chapter five

Mavik

D rumming my fingers against the steering wheel, I peer out at the quaint neighborhood.

Like most busy cities, New Vernon has several hidden pockets, some for the rich and others for the poor.

The first apartment complex Peyton lived in was in a rundown area that was sketchy at best. Why someone with Peyton’s salary lived in that neighborhood escaped me.

Then, I realized he was supporting both himself and his little brother.

When Peyton completed his initial three months as my assistant, I gave him a new contract offering a raise and a company apartment, chosen by me and within walking distance of the office.

He immediately asked if it was okay to have his brother live there with him.

It’s why I chose a three-bedroom apartment.

I told him he was allowed one roommate and that the proper paperwork needed to be filled out in order for someone to live there.

If they passed the background check, then they would be allowed to live there with him.

I didn’t explain to Peyton that his brother would be the only person passing that background check. Like hell would anyone else be living with my assistant.

I slide out of the driver’s seat of my car and lock it before making my way down the street.

The setting sun has already been replaced by a full moon, casting a sharp contrast of shadow and light across the neighborhood.

The rich aroma of a nearby barbecue fills my nostrils, reminding me it’s still early enough that anyone can see me if I’m not careful.

Good thing I’m always careful. Always aware of my surroundings and people nearby.

I glance at the time on my phone screen: 8:23 PM.

Peyton should be relaxing on his sofa, either reading one of his dark romances or watching TV.

The tan ground-floor apartment comes into view.

Avoiding the security cameras I placed there when I bought this building, I slink around back and slide my mask over my head.

Because of his bright apartment lights inside, Peyton cannot see me in the darkness.

But it’s better safe than sorry. I don’t need someone spotting me and calling the cops.

A zing of pleasure travels down my spine, reminiscent of the zap I get during a kill.

I have no idea when I became so obsessed with my pretty little assistant, but there’s always been something about Peyton with his platinum-blond curls and baby-blue eyes.

From the first moment I saw him three years ago, I knew I’d have to fight my urge to claim him as mine.

Three years later, and I’m still trying to deny the inevitable.

Through the sliding glass door that leads to his patio, I don’t see anyone in the living room or kitchen.

There’s a small pathway between his patio railing and the line of privacy bushes behind his apartment.

The bushes and weeds have grown since I was last here, so I don’t notice the sharp brambles until they slice my arm, causing me to hiss in surprise. Rookie mistake.

My heart races. I rarely make a mistake.

Blood drips onto a pretty white flower. Odd. This flower shouldn’t be blooming here during this time of the year. Pulling out my knife, I cut the beautiful plant at the stem, finding it oddly sentimental.

I press myself against the wall of the building and peer through each window until I find Peyton carving away at a piece of wood in his spare room, his brother nowhere in sight.

I love how Peyton turned this bedroom into his own personal studio.

His headphones are on. I’ve heard the heavy metal my little angel likes to play on full blast. It would be so damn easy to sneak into his apartment unnoticed.

I’m half tempted to do just that when Peyton slams the carving tool and the chunk of wood down onto his desk in frustration.

Tears stream down his face before he angrily wipes them away.

Rage roils through me at the sight. There’s the sharp sting of my nails digging into my palms. Who hurt Peyton enough to make him cry like this?

He storms out of the room. Through his other window, I see him bypass his bedroom.

Keeping as low as possible, I sneak back toward his patio and climb over the railing.

His patio is small, with an outdoor dining table and matching chairs.

On a shelf, Peyton has a collection of plants and a life-size owl figurine to deter rodents.

Peyton pulls out a frozen meal before reading the instructions and popping it into the microwave.

He stands there with a blank look on his face, lips slightly parted as he spaces out, deep in thought.

I press myself closer to the glass door.

Peyton swipes at his face again, and I’ve had about enough.

I will fucking kill whoever made my sweet boy cry.

Pulling out my phone, I send a text to Peyton.

I can’t stop thinking about you.

I’m about to hit send, but catch myself at the last second.

Something about today was different. The way he stared at me during lunch.

The way we opened up to each other about our families.

We’ve never crossed that line before. Those coy smiles and little blushes.

He’s torn down the wall of protection I built around my heart, making it easy to forget who I am, what I am.

Fuck.

It was intoxicating. He’s intoxicating .

I thought I knew everything there was to know about my assistant, but there’s only so much one can gather from background checks and social media.

Today, Peyton and I shared intimate things, and he let me into his thoughts—while sober—and willingly gave me a piece of himself by exposing his insecurities.

I want more.

Need more.

But this isn’t some silly romance where I confess my feelings for him. I erase the text and type out a different message.

Mavik: How are you? Did you finally get hold of your brother?

Peyton picks up his phone as soon as it lights up and he types out a quick message.

Peyton: I’m fine. He’s fine.

Peyton: I don’t want to talk about Ty. Next.

Relief settles through me. Not because he seems upset with Tyler, but because it was probably just a sibling fight, not someone physically hurting the man I care about.

I grin at his message. The word next is his way of changing the subject.

Mavik: There’s my sassy little assistant. Should we talk about your favorite subject instead?

Peyton reads the message, his plush lips parting with shock. He grins down at the phone, and I mentally pat myself on the back for distracting him.

Peyton: My favorite subject, huh? And what’s that?

Mavik: Well, I know how obsessed you are with your boss.

I hit send before realizing what I’ve just said. What the fuck is wrong with me? Am I really traveling down this path and flirting with my young assistant?

I jerk my head up to watch Peyton’s reaction.

He peers down at his screen, and a stunning smile spreads across his face.

His blond curls tumble forward as he just stares at his phone.

Fuck, he’s beautiful. What is it about Peyton that has me breaking all my rules?

It’s not just his looks; I know that. It’s his witty brain and bratty personality.

It’s those perfect glimpses he shows me of his need to submit.

If I weren’t a man born from vengeance and eager to kill, he’d be my perfect half.

Instead, he’s forbidden fruit. A temptation I want to sink my teeth into and savor.

Peyton: More like you’re obsessed with me, sir.

True. A predatory grin tips my lips. You have no fucking idea, little light.

Peyton places the phone back on the counter with a grin, and he props a hip against the fridge, staring at the screen, waiting for my reply.

His words shoot a shiver of lust to my cock, and I smirk.

I can practically hear the flirty, sassy tone he would use to deliver those words in person. My perfect little temptation.

As if realizing what he just said to his boss, his eyes widen, and he grabs for his phone, typing frantically. His face is flushed red. Poor boy, his porcelain skin could never hide that pretty red color.

Peyton: Just kidding. Anyway, why are you texting me so late? What are you doing right now?

Damn. How tempting would it be to toy with my prey? I take a seat on one of the patio chairs and place the flower on the table as I type out a text I shouldn’t send.

Mavik: What would you do if I told you I was watching you? Following every little movement you make?

Confusion momentarily flickers across his face, mixed with a delicious hint of fear. After several seconds, that bratty grin is back as he shrugs away his concern.

Peyton: Is that so? I’d say prove it. What am I doing right now?

Mavik: You’re in your kitchen, making dinner.

Peyton gasps. He spins around as if just now remembering his food and tugs the microwave door open. He pulls out his sorry excuse for a dinner and tosses it on the counter.

Peyton: Okay. Good guess. And where might you be if you’re able to see me so clearly?

Mavik: On your patio.

Thank goodness I have my phone brightness on low, or I’m pretty sure that would have given me away. I raise my hand and give a little finger wave, anyway.

Peyton’s eyes widen, and I see him swallow hard.

His gaze flickers to the glass door. Again, he can’t see me with how dark it is out here and how bright it is in his apartment, but just maybe he thought he saw something moving outside.

Peyton shifts as he studies the door, but he doesn’t step closer.

Smart boy. Fear dances in his eyes before it turns into something else.

I palm my hardening cock through my pants.

I’ve never done anything like this before.

Peyton’s gaze flickers over to his bookshelf before he shakes his head and chuckles to himself. Probably disregarding all the red flags and alarm bells going off in his pretty little head.

I have to admit that I was shocked when I snuck into Peyton’s apartment one day and took a peek at all the dark romances my boy was into.

If he’s into half the shit in his books, then he might be as kinky as me.

How would Peyton react if he knew I was stalking him, just like most of those love interests in his naughty books?

Peyton: Okay, I’ll play. And what do you see, sir?

Peyton is grinning as he makes his way into the living room.

He stands just in front of the sofa, giving me a good view of him.

I find it ironic that Peyton is bathed in light, while someone with a soul as dark as mine is sitting here in the pitch black.

Peyton bites his lip seductively. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he’s staring right at me as he smiles and peels off his shirt.

I sit up straighter, my cock throbbing now that I can see his toned muscles and creamy skin on display.

His rosy-pink nipples are hard, and there’s still a blush on his pretty cheeks.

He thinks I’m lying, but considering how hard he is in his pants…

I can tell he likes the idea of me watching him from outside. The idea of a stalker turns him on.

Looks like Peyton might have a dark side to him after all.

As I continue to toy with my prey, the illusion of being outside his window has to be just believable enough that he plays back, but not so much so that he’d actually investigate. I want to push Peyton and see how far he’ll go.

Mavik: Those pretty blond curls and that sassy little smirk.

Peyton is in the process of unbuttoning his pants when he sees the message. He blinks, brushing his blond curls out of his face, before lightly touching his lips. His chest is rising and falling quickly as he studies the window again.

Peyton: What else?

He strokes his cock through his pants, then reaches for the button and snaps it open. He doesn’t do anything else, just waits for my reply.

Desire sizzles down my spine, setting my skin aflame with arousal. My cock is throbbing, and I have this insane need to pull it out and do something about it.

Mavik: You know, you blush so prettily against all that pale skin.

Peyton: And do you like what you see, sir?

To my surprise, Peyton reaches for his pants and shimmies out of them.

But it’s not the fact that Peyton is stripping in front of me that has me absolutely floored and growling like a damn animal, no, it’s the pretty coral panties that cup his pert little ass that has me ravenous.

I’ve never seen a man in such feminine material before, but I can easily say I’m a huge fan.

The sudden urge to make my presence known is so damn strong.

I want to get out of this damn chair and walk right up to the glass door.

I want Peyton to see me gripping my thick cock as he desperately fidgets with the lock and invites me inside.

What would it feel like to squeeze that bubble ass of his before peeling off those pretty panties?

Would he let me spank him until my handprints decorate his ass?

Typing out another quick message, I hit send and wait to see what else he’ll do.

Mavik: Yes. Show me more.