27. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Tyler

D ahlia's not cleaning up the shop as I approach Sweet DeNights.

For the past six days, I didn't look for her either. I strolled around the back, respecting her wishes and being a spectator.

This evening, I'm going right into Sweet DeNights.

She's waiting for me, sitting behind the counter. Alone. Her red smile is wide. My Dahlia is sexy as hell in the outfit I bought and chose for her today. Long-sleeved red dress with black lace sewn over it. Snug around the breasts and the waist, flaring at the bottom. I paired it with black tights and her black Chucks.

Gothic and so her.

Despite the darkness surrounding her, my girl is glowing.

It could be because I'm about to walk inside. Could be the secrets we shed and how light we both feel .

Maybe both. At least she's not as upset as she was when I locked the chastity belt away last night.

It's been five days that I've had to jack off to her murdering people. Tonight, after our first kill together, I wanted full access to her pussy.

I'm less happy. I'm curious. Whoever we're going to take care of , they mean something to Dahlia.

She called them a surprise .

She even slipped out of our home earlier than usual for said surprise. Wouldn't let me walk her here. She actually took advantage of my sleepy state at three thirty in the morning and fled outside.

Sneaky, sneaky woman.

The scent of pumpkin spice assaults my nostrils as a woman passes by me holding a steaming takeaway cup. Orange and black with hints of purple dominate the storefronts across the street.

I only have eyes for one shop.

For one woman.

Mine.

"Ty," Dahlia calls to me, her voice muffled by the glass separating us. She's hopping up and down, the bun at the top of her head bouncing with her. Her bun and her tits. "Come in."

There are still a few minutes left until eight, the time Dahlia's target will be here. Meaning I don't have to rush. Meaning I get to torment her.

I stand there by the door. The hood of my hoodie is pulled over my head. My hands are in my jeans pockets. My stance should terrify her. Send a tremor up her spine. Make her thighs clench with depraved desires.

I know it doesn't work that way with her. The days of being her creepy stalker are over. She stops hopping anyway. Widens her eyes and parts her lips in fake terror.

She plays this game for my benefit. My little prey. My sexy huntress.

The bell above my head dings as I step inside Sweet DeNights. Five steps and I'm at the swinging door. One push and I'm around the counter.

"You're all alone here, little girl?" I cup her cheek. Tip her head to me and eat up the way her body breaks in shivers.

"Yes." The word is barely a whisper through her red lips. "Are you the big bad wolf? You're going to hurt me?"

Dahlia fakes fear so fucking well. Even her pupils dilate, which should be impossible. Somehow, though, she does it. My cock swells at that.

"I might." Below the counter, away from prying eyes, I press my hand to her pussy. She gasps and I'm barely holding myself from smearing her red lipstick on my lips. "If you're bad, there's no telling what I might—"

"Tyler?" A familiar voice reaches my ears. One of my neighbor's voices.

Dahlia smiles wide. Too wide.

By the time I pull back and turn to Rita, my neighbor's voice has an edge to it. "I thought I recognized you. The invitation did say our whole building was invited for free tastings."

That explains why Dahlia was being sneaky this morning .

My eyes don't linger on the other woman. I look at her for a split second, enough to register that she has her black hair in a ponytail, wears a copper-colored sweatshirt and matching sweatpants. Enough to realize Rita's expression is a sour one.

She got an invitation for free tastings and she's upset? The fuck?

Though I've taken a step back, I feel closer than ever to Dahlia. Like her thoughts transport themselves into my head. Telling me that no one from our building was invited. That there are no free tastings.

That she doesn't like this woman.

Rita is the target for tonight.

My neighbor—from what floor, fuck if I remember—is the guest of honor today.

This is Dahlia's surprise.

Why?

Why her?

If curiosity could kill, I'd be drowning in it. Choking on it.

It can't, though. I'm alive. Alive and stalking Dahlia's moves. My mysterious predator. I'm dying to read her mind. Listen to the whole story.

"Yes." Dahlia flashes Rita a wide smile. With her sweet, round butt and the endless grace of a huntress, she nudges me aside. Walks through the swinging door. Beckons our neighbor to join us. "Tyler and I have been friends for forever … "

While she talks, Rita steps inside. Into the trap. The black-haired woman sneaks a glance my way. I offer her a reassuring nod. Doesn't help. She crosses her arms over her chest in a nervous gesture. Disturbs her bottom lip.

Her instincts are on point. It's unfortunate she ignores them.

"…And I thought, why not find new friends in the neighborhood?" Dahlia ushers Rita into her baking space. Another step closer to the room where Rita will die.

"It actually sounds nice." The corners of Rita's blue eyes soften. She believes Dahlia's telling the truth.

Falls right into her trap. There to stay.

"Felt like the right thing to do." Dahlia bats her eyelashes. "I might be moving in next to my friend . Figured I'll go ahead and get to know everyone."

Dahlia will kill Rita in the next hour. Yet, here I am, unable to control my hard-on. My gaze lowers to Dahlia's curves. One fist curls at my side, wishing I could undo Dahlia's bun, wind my hand in her long, blonde locks, and yank on her hair.

She'll be at my mercy. Will bend when I push her on the counter. Scram when I take and take and take.

"Yes." Rita gets comfortable. Must be the sugar and chocolate scents. Her shoulders relax. Her eyes have stopped bouncing around the room. "Makes perfect sense."

Amusement flickers in Dahlia's eyes.

Mission accomplished. The target has been disarmed.

It's fascinating, truly. She's perfected it to an artform.

"You coming?" She quirks a blonde eyebrow at me.

Both women are inside the baking room already. Gazing at me expectantly .

"Yeah, Tyler, come on in." Rita has a couple of inches on Dahlia. So when she stands behind her like she does now, I can see her batting her eyelashes at me. "We'll wait for the rest inside. Just the three of us."

And then she giggles.

She.

Giggles.

Well, well, well.

This is the why .

This isn't the first time my stalker has heard her flirting with me.

For me, it is.

No other woman has interested me for years. I hardly knew anyone else so much as existed other than Dahlia since she turned seventeen.

Dahlia has always been the air I breathe. Dahlia has been the reason I wake up every morning. The reason why my heart beats and my eyes see. The woman I've been stalking, obsessing over, and loving.

Only her.

My little savage. Possessive. Territorial. Jealous. A set of characteristics most men jack off to when they think of their dream girl.

But long before I saw these things in her, I loved her. Fiercely. Insanely.

Unconditionally.

My heart has been stored in a cage. Kept away behind a set of unbreakable locks. A million deadbolts .

Only Dahlia's has the key to set me free. She's the only one who can clutch the miserable organ in her fist and squeeze.

The one woman who could ever own me as much as I own her.

Granted, I'm not a rude fucker. I talk to my coworkers over video conferences. To my neighbors.

I don't see them. Don't actually acknowledge them.

And I definitely haven't noticed anyone coming on to me.

Unfortunately for Rita, Dahlia did.

"Tyler?" Rita smiles. Dahlia must hear it, because her fake smile stretches wider. "Don't keep us waiting."

Out of sheer curiosity, I'm trying to remember where I might've bumped into her. The elevators. On the sidewalk outside our apartment building. She mentioned something about…recycling? The fuck do I remember.

I must've talked to her on autopilot, since I didn't so much as remember that her eyes are blue.

"Yeah, sorry." The front door of the shop isn't locked. Dahlia got too excited, and I got too caught up in the moment. We forgot. I need to amend that. "I'll put up a sign for the rest of the neighbors when they come. Tell them we're hanging in the back."

"Brilliant. Thank you." Dahlia winks at me. She spins to Rita, the skirt of her dress whirling. "Join me, please. You get first dibs on the cupcake of your choice."

"I saw this guy post with, what's it called?" Their voices become duller as I head to the front of the shop. "I believe he called it Tarantula's Kiss? "

"Ah, yes." Dahlia sounds pleased. Genuinely pleased. Those cupcakes are her babies. Soon, I'll plant real ones in her belly. "Triple chocolate cupcake. Strawberry cut in the shape of lips. Is that the one you saw?"

"Yes, exactly." Rita's enthusiasm reaches to my ears.

The man I used to be before I lost my grandma and Ian would've felt sorry for her. He would've pulled Dahlia aside, convinced her to let it go. Rita had no way of guessing I belonged to Dahlia.

The man I am today locks on the front door of Sweet DeNights.

I'm not a bad person.

I'm nowhere near good, either.

Life isn't always black and white. Truth is, it never is.

Especially not mine.

With Dahlia, everything is painted in vivid red and orange, and purple on top of the black. Whenever she's near, the world smells like chocolate and cinnamon and death.

I love her.

I need her.

The desire to claim her has never been this strong as it is at this moment. This demanding. I arrange myself in my jeans. Silence the roaring beast inside me and past the swinging door I go.

Into the back of the shop.

"The cupcake was delicious." Giggle. A nervous one.

No wonder there. Dahlia's raising an empty flour bag for no apparent reason .

Rita tries a second time. "I'm such a sucker for strawberries."

I lock the door of the baking area behind me.

"You know what I'm a sucker for?" Dahlia says as soon as the click of the lock echoes in the small space.

"Uh…" Rita's eyes flicker to the flour bag. "What?"

"My man ."

The cheetah is considered the fastest animal in the world. I'd strongly disagree.

No one's faster than Dahlia. No one.

The bag in her hands covers Rita's head at a breakneck speed. As if Dahlia snapped her fingers and willed it to be there.

"I'm a sucker for Tyler." She grips the bag and tugs, choking Rita. Cutting off my neighbor's air supply. "Miss Flirty Flirt. He's mine. Mine."

Throughout the whole ordeal, I don't move to help either of the women. I lean against the wall closest to the door. Hands in my pockets. One ankle crossed over the other.

I refuse myself my most carnal desires. While I hold back, I watch as Rita struggles to break loose. Keen to see how Dahlia wins this round.

For a second there, Rita almost gets her by playing dead. Her shoulders slump, arms hanging near her body. Dahlia's gaze remains fixed on her head.

Then Rita makes the fatal mistake of fighting back too soon. She elbows Dahlia in the ribs and Dahlia stumbles. Both women stagger back, knocking over a KitchenAid stand mixer.

There's a loud clunk as it drops to the side and hits the metal table .

"Help." A muffled cry permeates through the tightly woven cotton of the bag. "Let me go."

"You're terribly unoriginal," Dahlia grinds out through clenched teeth. She yanks harder on the bag, giving it everything she has. "Boring as all fuck. You had no chance with Tyler in the first place."

My obsession with Dahlia grows by the second. She handles Rita like an animal that needs to be put down. Rita doesn't give up, struggling to breathe. Struggling to save herself.

Her attempts are pathetic.

No one beats my little savage.

Fucking no one.

"You're the only one for me, beautiful. No one could ever take your place. My red queen." Three steps closer and I have my fingers undoing Dahlia's bun. Stroking through her soft tresses while she strangles Rita. "There'll never be anyone else. Ever."

A low growl is Dahlia's reply. Her biceps are bulging, her eyes never moving from Rita.

Then Rita faints and it's over. I mean, the overture is.

As soon as she becomes limp in her hands, Dahlia and I start our dance. We've never practiced this one before, but we're executing it smoothly anyway.

She lifts the flour bag, and I balance Rita by her shoulders. Our target remains still as Dahlia goes to open the back-back room's door.

Placing two fingers to Rita's pulse point, I announce, "Alive. "

"Of course she is." Dahlia's bottom lip juts out. Indignance has always looked precious to her. "I've been doing this for a while, Ty. I know when to stop."

I shrug, then poke this volatile, sexy bear. "If you're so good at it, you would've realized someone's been watching you."

"Not true. I knew you were there." Her pout morphs into a scowl. Her eyes lower to where I'm holding Rita, and now her fangs are out. She snatches Rita from me, dragging her to the back-back room. "I read your blog."

The distance between us dissolves in a second. I pry her fingers off Rita, my hands threading into Dahlia's hair.

"Ty, what are you—"

Letting her finish the sentence would've been the gentlemanly thing to do.

I am no gentleman.

Our lips crush and I groan into her mouth. We listen to Rita's body going thunk as she hits the floor. Dahlia moans with every lick of my tongue, with every bite. We kiss like that for longer than appropriate.

Rita won't be knocked out forever.

"Go on." Breaking our kiss hurts.

It'll hurt worse if Rita wakes up and takes advantage of us while we're fucking.

"Go on, what?" Dahlia's breathless. Lips swollen. Lipstick ruined.

She's forgotten why we're even here.

"Go on." I kiss her nose. "Fuck her up."

"Right." Her eyes are a little unfocused. "Right. "

Gotta take care of that. I slide my hands until I fist her hair in my palms and yank on it. Hard.

"Focus." With a jerk of my chin, I motion toward Rita's body, then tug on Dahlia's hair so she's looking at her.

Rita's elbows and knees are bent at weird angles. Her head is twisted to the side.

"And have fun." I lick Dahlia from the corner of her mouth up to her ear. "You're a violent little thing and it turns me right the fuck on. I'll never stop you. I support you. I always will. Do you understand?"

Flames crackle in her blue eyes.

She would've done it with or without my support, they tell me. But she likes having it anyway.