Monster in His Eyes (#1) Read Online J.M. Darhower

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, BDSM, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Drama, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: J.M. Darhower Series: Monster in His Eyes Series by J.M. Darhower
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I nod, my heart in my throat. I'm not scared, but damn if he doesn't have me a bit nervous. He actually gave me safe words. "You're not going to, like, beat me, are you?"

"No," he says right away, his voice sharp. "I'll never hit you. And I'll never hurt you, unless you want me to."

I can't imagine ever wanting that, but the ache between my thighs, the memory of the way he hurt earlier, when he was inside of me, sends a differing chill down my spine.

"They're just in case," he says. "In case I get too rough, in case I lose myself and you've had enough. Better safe than sorry, right?"

"Right," I mumble, reaching for his zipper. I start to tug it down when he grabs my hand again, laughing as he pulls away.

"Not tonight," he says as he holds on to my hand. "I need to go."

My brow furrows. "You're leaving?"

"Yes," he says. "I have work to do."

My gaze shifts to my alarm clock. One o'clock in the morning. "Now?"

"Yes," he says again, lifting my hand and placing a light kiss on the back of it. He follows it up with a quick peck on my lips before letting go and turning away.

He says nothing else.

I stare, watching incredulously as he disappears out the door.

Days pass.

Days of nothing.

The soreness from our encounter fades from my body as another ache seeps in—the ache of not feeling his touch in days. It's a double-edge sword, a strange sensation I've never dealt with before.

I feel so empty.

It's crazy. I know.

I'm crazy.

He's driving me insane.

Naz steamrolled into my life and then strolled right back out in the middle of the night, offering me nothing more than a sweet goodbye kiss.

I don't know what to do about it.

I don't know what to do with myself.

I spend the days alternating between hiding out in my room and venturing out into the city, slipping back into my world of solitude and cheap food.

And I wallow.

I wallow.

Ugh, I'm pathetic.

This isn't me. I don't fall apart over guys. I don't mope, and stress, and wallow.

So why am I doing it?

After glancing at my phone for probably the hundredth time, waiting for the bastard to ring, I toss it aside with a groan. I could call him; I should call him. But I keep waiting for him to call me. I'm becoming one of those girls.

I'm turning into Melody.

Speaking of Melody, she comes back tomorrow, and I haven't heard from her once. I know she's busy, on vacation with the friends she's known for years, so I'm not surprised, but it admittedly hurts to realize I'm so alone.

I don't just mean that because everyone's vacated the premises. I mean it in the 'I could go missing and I'm not sure anyone would notice' kind of way.

A shrill ring echoes through the room. I snatch it up, my heart stilling those few seconds before I glance at the screen. Please be Naz. Please be Naz. Please be Naz.

It's Mom.

Scratch that. Someone would notice.

She would.

Sighing, I drop down onto my bed as I answer it. "Hey, Mom."

"Hey, Kissimmee! How are you?"

"Good. You?"

She sounds good, confirming it when she launches into stories from Watertown, gossiping about the people around town. I only vaguely remember most of them but I listen and occasionally chime in. I worried about leaving her all alone when I moved to the city, but she seems to be doing well.

Dare I say better than even me today?

"Are you sure you're okay, sweetie?" she says after a moment. "You're awfully quiet."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just... bored."

And lonely.

And kind of hungry.

I'm a mess.

"You should've visited this week," she says. "We could've spent some time together."

"I know... I'll see you soon, though."

"Can't wait," she says. "Anyway, I should get going. I'll call you later, okay?"

We hang up. I toss my phone down, waiting for it to ring again.

It doesn't.

I eventually head downstairs, grabbing something to eat from the dining hall while it's open. It's slim pickings, a few scraggly students hanging around from the building. The sun is still shining when I come back upstairs. I crack open my philosophy textbook, trying to get ahead on it, but end up falling asleep with the book on my chest.

I'm awakened much later by a noise. The room is encased in darkness, a soft glow swaddling my desk beside the bed. My phone. Reaching over, I pick it up and glance at the screen as it rings.

Naz.

I answer tentatively. "Hello?"

"You looked beautiful today."

No hello. No greeting at all. I'm stunned. Beautiful? Where did that come from?

My eyes are drawn down to myself. I haven't even changed out of my old ratty pajamas in what I think might be two days. "How do you know?"

"I saw you."

My stomach is in knots. He saw me? "Where?"

"In my dreams."

The moment he says it, a smile lights up my face. "Are you just fucking with me?"

"No, but I'd like to be fucking you."

I laugh sharply. My body heats at those words. How does he do that, his responses so slick, so quick?

"I do know you looked beautiful today, though," he says. "I wasn't lying."

"How?"

"Because you always are."

I'm not sure how to respond to that. I start stammering. Thirty seconds on the phone and I've turned into a blubbering fool because of this man.

He laughs, genuinely amused. "Goodnight, Karissa."

Before I can respond, he hangs up. I stare at the phone, biting my bottom lip, as I whisper, "goodnight," into the quiet room.

As silly as it is, I feel a bit better.

At least he hasn't forgotten about me.

Sunday afternoon drags, each minute like an hour, each hour damn near another whole day. The dorm comes alive mid-afternoon as people filter back in. I can hear our suite mates through the thin walls, returning from wherever they headed off to.

I don't know.

Don't really care, either.

I'm a terrible neighbor.

I'm sitting in my bed, knees pulled up, staring down at the book propped up against my legs, when the door flings open. Melody walks in, hauling her bags along, and lets out a groan in lieu of a greeting. I glance up as she discards her things by the door to collapse in her bed.


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