My Valentine: Siren #2, Page 2

  How did I get here?

  I look back down to the ground and notice I’m lying by a tree. I’m covered in mud and dirt, and don’t have a clue as to where I am.

  I start shivering—partly because of the cold, but also partly due to fear. I’m used to fear, though. Fear is what I live on. Now, however, I do not welcome this fear. This fear is unknown.

  Squinting my eyes, I try to get a sense of where I might be, but also of how in the hell I got here. Why do I ache all over? Why does my throat burn so much?

  In an effort to sit completely upright, I pull myself up against the tree, so I can lean on it for support. It feels like my lungs have been expelled of all their air. I want so desperately to take large gulps of oxygen, but I know it will hurt like a bitch if I do.

  Another large crack of thunder sounds overhead, momentarily lighting the sky. As I cower, I notice movement ahead of me, making me squeeze into a tight ball. Black eyes meet mine as an intense clap of thunder is immediately accompanied by another flash of lightning, which crackles through the night air. My mind conjures up monsters with sharp claws and fangs, which are stalking towards me to finish off whatever job was started. My head is spinning, and my heart racing as I consider what it could be that’s out there staring at me.

  But, whatever it is, it doesn’t move any more than I do, which is not at all. As I realise it’s not coming to get me, my heart rate eases a little. I squint as best I can in the dark.

  Then, as if in answer to my prayers, the moon appears from beyond the clouds and lights up the direction I’m looking towards.

  It’s only a deer.

  Closing my eyes, I let my heart rate settle down before I realise that I’m going to die from hypothermia if I stay here any longer.

  I start the process of moving, but as I do, weakness in my legs takes over. I can’t seem to get them to move. I have to, though. If I stay here and give in, I’ll die. Something tells me that I need to live. I need to live because I have unfinished business.

  Scores to settle.

  I shake my head, trying to clear my erratic thoughts. I need to figure out what the hell is going on and how the hell I ended up out here in the woods.

  With that last thought in my mind, I push myself up using the trunk of my tree for support yet again. I’m not much of a tree hugger, but in this moment, I can understand the logic to it. This tree is the only thing out here giving me any support at all.

  As I manage to stand fully upright, I stumble a little, but again, the tree breaks my fall. I feel my hand around its rough edges, petting it as if it were a dog. My mind soon wanders back to the deer, and thinking it’s gone by now, I look over in that direction. He or she is still standing there—stock still—observing me like I am just as fascinating to him or her as he or she is to me. For a moment, I stare into those black eyes. Eyes which should foretell death, despair, rage, and, most of all, uncertainty. The only thing I see in that deer’s eyes, however, is me … just me. In that moment, the deer and I seem to have reached a mutual understanding, and we share a bond.

  I am as wild and as free as the deer is.

  Feeling an overwhelming urge to move closer, I put one foot in front of the other and reach out for the deer. At first, he or she is unmoving, still staring and locked in fascination—most likely wondering what I am.

  My feet squelch underneath the mud I’ve been lying on for however long I’ve been out here. I look down and marvel as the mud seeps in between my toes and pushes its way around my foot. I’m locked by a fascination of my own. Like I’m witnessing something like this for the first time.

  But then I remember my deer.

  I place one foot in front of the other again and again until I’m at the halfway point between me and the deer. It’s still unmoving as I make my way toward it, but when I stop about six feet away, the deer blows out a billow of steam from its nostrils before suddenly turning and walking away.

  Instantly, I feel the loss. I try to scream out for the deer to stay, but not only does no sound escape me, but my throat cries out in agony.

  I feel the tears at the loss of my deer, but with every wrack my body makes, fire like no other crawls up my throat. On instinct, I wrap a hand around my neck, and like a crashing wave, it all hits me.

  Stuart is waiting for me.

  Reid was waiting for me.

  Reid raped me. While doing so, he placed his hands around my neck and choked me until I passed out.

  Reid killed me.

  At least, that’s what he thinks he did.

  But in that moment, I don’t care.

  In that moment, I grieve, and I am lost.

  In that moment … I just want my deer back.

  Reid

  After leaving the sexy shrink’s office, I get in my Lexus and head back to my bar, but not before stopping off at the beach to soak up some sun for a few hours. It’s the end of July, and it’s heating up like a bitch outside. As I drive, I hit siesta traffic backed up all long the A7 towards Puerto Banús. I’ve been living here for roughly a year now, so I have lived through each season. It very rarely reaches below eleven Celsius in winter, but it still gets cold. Living next to the sea brings dampness. It seeps into houses and blackens the walls. The bar I bought was riddled with it. It had been left to virtually rot, but with the extra money I had, I managed to make it into not only a bar/fantasy sex club, but also a place I can call home. I live above the bar, which is perfect for me. I get to work into the night, sleep into the day, and drink whenever the fuck I want. With alcohol on tap throughout the day, that’s just what I do. Drinking has become a thing for me ever since I did what I did to her.

  A wave of nausea hits my stomach like it always fucking does when I think of her. Everywhere I look, it seems like she’s there, reminding me of what I did.

  Angrily, I pull into the parking lot of my bar, switch off the engine, and step out into the blistering heat. I look up into the mountains behind my bar and think about how much a world away this is from England. In summer here, it doesn’t rain, so everything green turns yellow. Sand and dust billow in the warm air. No cool breeze. In this heat, even the breeze is hot. There’s just no escape.

  But, I love it here. It’s a different way of life to London. Everything in London is rushed. People are on the go all the time. No living—just existing. Over here, people celebrate life. They gather in droves, eating at ten o’clock at night and partying until the sun comes up. Then, in the afternoon, they gather all of their food, tents—basically everything they can carry—and bring it all to the beach, so they can keep cool during the day. Afterwards, the cycle repeats itself.

  As I rush to the door of my bar, I open it, relishing the cool air conditioning that greets me on the other side.

  “Hey, brother. I thought I was going to have to send a search party.”

  Akilah, my bar manager from the Congo greets me with a big, beaming smile. I met him on the beach when he was selling handbags and sunglasses in Estepona. I can’t remember who struck up the conversation first, but when I asked to try a pair of his sunglasses on, I found out that he had been living in Estepona for two years after fleeing the Congo for a better life. He seemed strong, fiercely independent, and something told me by the look in his eyes that I could trust him. His entire family had been shot by rebels, and the only reason why he lived was because he was so small that he managed to hide inside one of the kitchen cupboards—all the while he had to listen to the screams and cries of his mother, father, brothers, and sisters. Life had been fucking tough for Akilah, but no more. He needed a break, and I offered him one. I trust him implicitly because he trusts me. That’s why he calls me brother.

  “I’ve just been to the shrink.”

  He smirks, so I know what’s coming next. “Why don’t you just fucking take her already? You know you want to.”

  Sitting down on one of the barstools, Akilah immediately gets a glass, pours my favourite whiskey, and sets it in front of me. “There’s a chance she may
come tonight. I told her it was ladies’ night.”

  Akilah smiles, reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out some tablets. “If she does, slip her one of these, and she will be yours tonight.”

  I look down at the tiny blue tablets in his palm and smile. Could I do that? Knowing me and what I’ve done, fuck yes. I take one from his hand and slip it in my own jeans pocket. “Thanks, man.”

  “No problem, brother. Anything you need, I got your back.”

  And I know he does.

  “Anyone here?” I ask, looking toward the door. It’s already seven o’clock, so there’s bound to be some kinky fuckers inside some of the rooms.

  “Gus and Felicia are here as usual. Aidan is here with Elijah, and Tammy is here with Chris.”

  I shake my head at the thought of Gus and Felicia. They come here every week to fuck in full view. Each time, they try to insert some sort of spark into their marriage, and each time, he gets off, but she doesn’t. Aidan and Elijah are a newly married gay couple who like to experiment from time to time. They have even entertained the thought of having a woman between them—literally speaking. Tammy and Chris just like to fuck in front of people. They all do. That’s their end game at the end of the day. Voyeurism makes them high.

  I start gulping down my whiskey, enjoying the burn it gives me when Akilah says, “There’s a new girl here. Never seen her before.”

  My posture picks up. I always love fresh meat just in case it’s someone I can use to break this fucking incessant spell that Scarlet has me under. “What’s her name, and what does she look like?”

  As Akilah places some glasses away, he smirks in my direction. He knows why I’m asking. “She wanted to remain anonymous, but she gave her name as Fever.”

  I scrunch my face up. “Fever? What the fuck is that all about?”

  Akilah simply shrugs. “I don’t know, but she’s hot. She reminds me of my school teacher, but a fucking hot one.”

  The minute he says this, I’m out of my seat and heading for the door. I have definitely got to see this for myself.

  Visions of Dr Mercy flit through my brain. If only that could be her. I did say she looked like a school teacher.

  Feeling my heart pump real blood for the first time since Scarlet, I reach the door that has “Enter with Permission Only” on it, enter the four digit pin and walk through. The smell of sex hits my nostrils the moment I pass through. Loud grunting noises, along with skin slapping against skin from the glass booths can be heard echoing off the walls.

  The large room I enter is darkened to allow for a safe, relaxing environment. On the right-hand side are all the glass booths lit up for all to see. The left-hand side is reserved seating for the voyeurs. It’s cast in a comfortable darkness so that they can sit, relax, drink, and enjoy the show before them. None of the people in the glass houses know if anyone is watching them. It gives them a thrill not knowing whether or not they’re being watched. Most like to watch, but some do like to participate. I welcome any and all as long as they follow the rules.

  No violence—unless in the form of consensual BDSM.

  Use protection.

  No one may enter the glass doors once they have been closed.

  If you make a mess, clean up after yourselves.

  Simple rules which are followed to the letter. The very thought that I would set Akilah onto them has them running a mile. He’s one fucking hell of a beast of a man. Even I wonder whether I could take him in a fight.

  As my eyes wander around the room in front of me, nothing seems off. I can’t see any sign of this new girl, but if she’s anywhere, it’ll be sitting in one of the darkened seats, watching everything in front of her.

  So, I take the door which leads up to some stairs to a room where I can see all. No one else is allowed up here but me. In my room, no one can see me, but with cameras all over the wall and a large one-sided window, I can see everything.

  I watch the scenes in front of me. To the left are Aidan and Elijah. Aidan is giving Elijah a blowjob while he fucks some woman up the arse. Two rooms down, Tammy is whipping Chris’ arse as he gives her head. And, another room down to the right, Felicia is assuming her normal position—bent over, hands on the glass as Gus fucks her from behind. Gus is at it relentlessly, but all I see on Felicia’s face is frustration—something I see regularly when I’m here. It fucking pisses me off that they don’t just get a divorce already. They’re obviously not a good match.

  And yet, time and time again, they come here, and time and time again, they have sex in the same position, and the same circumstances happen after. They don’t seem to notice the pattern there.

  As I sigh my displeasure, I’m about to aim the camera around the room more so I can see this newbie, when a woman in a below the knee pencil skirt, white frilly blouse, and black three-inch heels walks towards the booth where Gus and Felicia are before placing one of her hands on the glass—right where Felicia has hers. I can’t see this woman as she has her back to me, but I notice the short blonde curls that look a lot like…

  No… It can’t be.

  I stare in wonder, my breath hitches as this woman stares into Felicia’s eyes. I can see the hint of desperation that Felicia shows her. In an instant, she pulls her hand away, approaching the door and places her hand on the handle.

  Fuck no. This is breaching rule number three. I start walking towards the door to the stairs when suddenly she opens it, walks through, and wanders up to Felicia. I think they’re going to stop, but they keep going—both fascinated with this new girl.

  As she approaches Felicia, she places her hand on her cheek and caresses it. Felicia closes her eyes as if this contact is the first tender contact she has ever received.

  I should move, but I can’t. My dick has grown to new levels I haven’t experienced in a long fucking time.

  My eyes are locked on what this woman is doing. She seems to have a finesse about her that I haven’t seen since…

  Pain grips my gut, but I will it down.

  I want to stay in this blissful bubble forever. Time seems to stand still, and all I can focus on is this woman, who has only her hand on Felicia’s cheek. That alone has made my dick rock fucking hard. Don’t get me wrong, Felicia is a beautiful young woman. She has massive tits, a tiny waist, and hips that jut out like Marilyn Monroe’s, but she does absolutely nothing for me. Then, this woman comes along with her long skirt and frilly blouse and touches her cheek. And now, I have the hard-on of the century.

  If I thought my dick couldn’t take much more, this woman leans in, kissing Felicia on the lips. Her hand, which was on her cheek, trails to her right breast. She gives Felicia’s nipple a squeeze, and my dick practically rips though my jeans. Gus carries on fucking Felicia from behind. All the while, his wife is sucking face with this woman, who has decided she wants to touch her up.

  And I can’t fucking keep my eyes away.

  She carries on kissing her and playing with her nipple, but then her hand suddenly reaches down, closer to Felicia’s pussy. When I see her fingers disappear and the jolt of pleasure that shoots through Felicia, I suddenly can’t take it anymore.

  Yanking my zipper down, I place my hand inside my boxer shorts and pull out my hardened cock. I moan when I fist it forwards and then backwards, savouring the pleasure my body has been denying me for so long. As I furiously wank myself off, I watch as this strange woman kisses Felicia and starts playing with her clit. Felicia pulls away suddenly, her face has the most heightened look of pleasure I have ever seen on her. Gus keeps pumping inside of her, but with renewed energy this time. It’s like they’ve both suddenly come alive.

  Felicia, in sweet agony, places her head on this woman’s shoulder and she offers her support as her hand flexes over her clit. I can see Felicia’s face, and by fuck do I want whatever this woman is giving her.

  I can’t hear Felicia’s screams, but I certainly can see them. For the first time ever, I’m going to see Felicia come, and it will be at the hands of thi
s strange woman.

  As everyone’s movements go faster, so do mine. I can’t fucking get enough of what I’m witnessing. Thank fuck this is recorded. I can watch it over and fucking over again, and I will. This is better than any porn I have ever fucking watched.

  As I see the heightened pleasure on both Gus and Felicia’s faces, I start pumping my dick, furiously trying to find my release.

  Felicia’s eyes are shut, her mouth is parted, and her body is rigid with her impending orgasm, which looks as if it will be the orgasm to end all orgasms. With one scream, I can certainly hear, Felicia lets loose, coming all over Gus’ dick at this strange woman’s hand.

  With that, I’m gone. Come spurts out of me in measures I have never seen before. As my orgasm leaves my body, I watch as the movements of this woman’s hand slow, Gus comes violently, and Felicia’s smile is almost hypnotic as she still rests her head over this mysterious woman’s shoulder.

  From the counter, I quickly grab some tissue in order to wipe myself clean. I hurry—desperate to not miss a thing.

  Who is this woman?

  Having cleaned myself as best I can, I throw the tissue in the bin and look down once more. Gus looks like he’s thanking this woman, and Felicia still looks like she’s drugged up from her orgasm. This woman says something, kisses Felicia on the cheek, and gently places her hand on the glass again before moving away.

  Violently, I move trying to see who this perfect fucking woman is. I watch, transfixed as she walks out of the door and towards the exit—all the time with her head down.

  Look up, goddammit!

  As I see her walking towards the exit door, I frantically try pulling up my trousers, so I can find out who she is.

  This I must fucking see.

  Scarlet

  I don’t know how long I stand there, seeking out the deer that’s probably miles away. It was long enough to realise that if I didn’t get moving, Reid’s intention of killing me would be realised shortly.