Page 14 of Laila Manning (Shadeport Crew #3)

I paced my apartment floor, wearing holes in the girly carpet Carly picked out for me when I first moved in. I rubbed my hands together back and forth, trying to create warmth between them as the cold of the night seeped in.

A noise down the hallway vibrated through the air, and I froze in place, cocking my head to hear what it was. When the heavy door of the exterior hallway closed, I raced to my door, silently pressing my body against it as I looked through the peephole.

It was Zeke.

He was wearing a black pair of joggers and nothing else but a layer of sweat as he pulled his earbuds from his ears.

He stopped at his door, noticing the folded paper in the crack again, and then looked over at my door.

A devilish smile pulled his perfect lips back as he pocketed his earbuds and pulled the paper from its spot.

I bit my lip to keep silent as he leaned back against his closed door, crossing one ankle over the other before opening the folded paper .

It was another journal entry.

Another olive branch of communicating with him, the only way I knew how.

I needed him to know me. The dark and messed up parts of me, so he knew what he was getting into before I gave in to my desire to give my body to him.

God, even the thought of sleeping with him made me dizzy.

I took a deep breath and watched his bright blue eyes flick up from the paper to my door like he could sense me on the other side of it before he started reading.

This journal entry was deeper than the other one.

It put a voice to my fear of moving on. It told the truth about my failure to thrive.

Dear Journal,

I thought my life had been bad. When I was young, my innocence was stripped from me with the swing of a knife, and I was never the same again. I thought that had been the worst of it, but I was wrong.

So wrong because it got so much worse after that.

Yet now, as a grown woman with nothing but opportunity ahead of me, I’m left feeling like it’s even worse now.

Somehow, being free yet chained to my past by fear is sorrier than being back there, imprisoned and tortured every day.

Freedom mocks me.

Happiness eludes me.

Nightmares haunt me.

I don’t know how much longer I can do this. Pretending. Avoiding. Acting like I wouldn’t rather be back inside that brothel .

At least back then, I could blame my captivity on something physical. Because right now, my captor is a figment of my imagination. Something that no longer exists.

Yet I can’t move forward. I’m stuck. Frozen in time, watching the rest of the world pass me by with curious glances and pitiful expressions when I fail to meet their expectations.

I’m nothing. Not even a prisoner anymore.

What if Carly and Jed tire of me? What if Ryker bores of funding my existence?

Will I simply fade away for good?

X- Laila

He folded the paper and stared at the door between us, once again like he knew I was hiding behind it. “Open the door.”

His deep voice echoed through the long hallway, and my breath froze in my chest.

I hadn’t anticipated that.

I wasn’t prepared to face him after cutting myself open like that. “Laila.” He called dominantly. “Open the door.”

My hand hovered over the unlocked handle but hesitated before I forced myself to turn it and step back, revealing myself to the harsh light of the hallway.

In my inability to plan for him wanting to speak face to face after reading the entry, I hadn’t gotten dressed for the occasion, and as his bright blue eyes slid down my body, covered in the light pink baseball style shirt and matching white shorts, shivers erupted over my skin.

He swallowed and leaned off his door, holding the paper between his fingers. “Do you think this is going to deter me?”

I bit my bottom lip to keep the quick remark I wanted to make from flying out of my mouth. “I just want you to know. ”

“I know.” His deep voice vibrated through his bare chest and across the hallway to me. He slid the paper into his pocket and moved closer to me. “I know, Laila. I still want you.”

Swallowing, I took a deep breath. “I have nothing to offer you.” I shrugged, facing the bravery I felt earlier today head-on and embracing it. “I live on Ryker’s dime, I have no job, I have no future. I don’t even know how to be a willing sexual partner to you, for fuck’s sake, Zeke.”

“Enough.” He growled with that dominating tone that always made my toes curl, and my insides melt.

“I don’t need you to have a 401K to desire you.

You’re doing everything you’re supposed to be doing right now, Laila.

You’re healing.” His throat tightened as he swallowed, looking down at me.

“You’re finally getting to decide how you want to live your life and what makes you happy. ”

“Don’t you want someone—” I paused, “Normal?”

He scoffed and slowly lifted his hand to the side of my face again, like he had that night in the club.

He did it so cautiously; I knew he was giving me time to tell him to stop.

But I didn’t. Because I craved his touch.

Even if it hurt and burned at the same time. “Do I strike you as a normal man?”

I sighed and rolled my eyes at him, and his body tightened in front of mine in a way that I felt to my bones.

“I kill people for a living.” He warned in that deep, dominant voice.

“I make people beg for death as I torture them. I steal from them. I take everything they have to give in this world and then I take more.” My body shivered from the intensity of his stare as he spoke.

“I’m not a normal man, and I’m not looking for normal. ”

I opened my mouth to retort his claim, fighting for control of the situation when everything else inside of me wanted to just roll over and give in to what he was offering. It was all too good to be true .

Before I could reply, though, he covered my lips with the tip of his thumb.

“No.” He stated, “No more excuses. No more trying to convince me to change my mind. I want you.” He stepped forward until our bodies were flushed together, and the panic and anxiety that normally came with physical touch didn’t surface.

My skin flared to life against his with something else.

“Decide right now if this is something you want. If it’s not, I’ll leave you alone.

I need to know if I’m pressuring you into something you don’t even want. ”

“I want it.” The words rushed out as I licked my lips, softly brushing the tip of my tongue against his thumb still pressed against my bottom lip. “I want you, Zeke,” I admitted, feeling braver than I ever had before. “I’ve never physically wanted another man in my life.”

He growled, cracking his neck as if he were fighting for restraint. But I had none. He’d undone me, leaving me raw and exposed for this.

“Kiss me,” I whispered, feeling like my heart was going to explode out of my chest at any moment, and not wanting to die before I knew what it felt like to be kissed by Zeke Evans.

“Gladly.” He rasped as he lowered his face to mine. “Fucking gladly.”

The second his warm lips pressed against mine, I melted and exploded into thin air, all at the same time.

He was dominant and assertive with his kiss, just like I knew he would be.

But he did it without making me feel like he was the one in control.

He did it in a way that made me feel like he was leading me.

Guiding me.

Towards bliss.

Because, God, I saw stars with every brush of his skin against mine.

I cried against him, whimpering a pathetic and needy sound of pure longing I would have been embarrassed by if not for the responding vibration through his chest. He licked my lips and tilted my head to the side, deepening the contact until I clung to his shoulders for support in fear of falling on my ass completely.

“You are perfection.” He whispered, nibbling on my bottom lip as he slid his free hand around my waist and anchored me to him further. “Do you understand how fucking perfect you are?”

“It’s you,” I whispered, tentatively biting his lip in response, and drawing another animalistic growl from his chest. “It’s this.”

“You’re right.” He responded. “This. Us. That’s perfection.”

“Zeke.” I moaned, sliding my hands over his shoulders to the back of his neck, desperate to be even closer to him, even though I had no idea what I was doing. I was acting on instinct and longing, trusting him to lead me.

A loud chirping noise cut off anything he was going to say as he pulled his ringing cell phone from his pocket, glancing briefly at the screen before placing it against his ear. “Yeah.” He barked.

I slid my hands from the back of his neck and tried to step back to put space between us, but his grip on my waist tightened and he glared down at me with a serious look.

I watched his face as he stared at me, listening to someone on the other end of the line before he replied, “Make Jed do it.” He stated and then clenched his teeth as a reply barked back.

“Fine.” He sighed. “Give me ten minutes.”

He didn’t wait for a reply but ended the call and slid it into his pocket, keeping those deep blue eyes locked on me the entire time. “You have to go,” I stated, trying to make the rejection in my heart disappear. It wasn’t like he wanted to go; I knew that. I’d heard him.

“Yeah.” He replied, “Ryker needs me.” I sank to my heels, nodding my head, but he once again didn’t allow me to back up. “This conversation isn’t over, Laila. ”

A snort slipped through my lips, and I covered my mouth in embarrassment as he smirked down at me. “I didn’t think this was a conversation anymore.”