His Darkness, My Desire

Lucas stops a few inches from me, and I instinctively take one step back, becoming more nervous.

"I don't know." I stutter, "You were nice to me."

Lucas closes the gap between us, raising his brow and tucking his finger under the strap of my dress, moving his finger back and forth underneath it as he watches thoughtfully. "Nice? Is that what you'd call what happened the last time I saw you?"

Memories flood into my mind of Lucas crawling over the top of me on his bed, kissing me over every part of my skin as he did so, until he reached my neck, which he latched onto, while his hands tore my bra from my body so roughly it ripped down the middle.

I gulp "Yes."

He smirks as he snaps the strap to my dress back against my skin, pulling his hand away to run it through his hair. "I can think of some other words that are much more fitting."

My breathing picks up as he leans forward to whisper in my ear, "Such filthy words, my sweet girl."

The memories keep pouring in, heating my skin as I remember the dirty things he would whisper to me about what he was going to do to me, the obscene things he would growl in my ear as his fingers slipped into my panties while his other hand pinned my wrists with a vice grip above my head.

"Already so wet for me, princess, but I'm going to have you ruining my sheets by the time I'm done with you."

I squeeze my thighs together at the memory of those words, fighting the arousal it's sending through me.

I pull my face back, sucking in a breath, "I should go, my boyfriend is probably wondering where I am."

Lucas's lips quirk, loving how flustered he's made me. "Ah, that little boyfriend of yours - how long have you been with him?"

"Almost two years," I reply quietly, hoping that talking about this will deter him from acting the way he's acting.

I knew coming here was a bad idea, even more so than I expected. He's more dangerous than I thought.

Dangerous in the sense that the same attraction I had all those years ago is still knocking the wind from me like it never left, and I can't let that happen.

I love Andy; I shouldn't be feeling like this towards someone else.

"Isn't that adorable?" he says condescendingly, and I frown slightly.

Lucas tilts his head, squinting his eyes briefly with a smug expression. "Tell me, love, this boyfriend of yours, is he nice to you as well?"

I gulp as I nod, deciding to ignore the obvious thing he's insinuating. "Yes, he is, he's very sweet."

Andy is nothing like Lucas; he would never dream of doing the things that Lucas did, and I'm okay with that - that night with Lucas was a one-time experience, it's not who I am or what I want.

Lucas chuckles, shaking his head as he looks down, and begins to button his shirt, and I want to slap my own eyes for darting down to watch. "Of course he's sweet, I wouldn't expect any less from you."

I try to stop myself from feeling offended at him patronizing my relationship; there's nothing wrong with Andy. He's sweet, kind, and a perfect gentleman!

"Why did you ask me to come here?" I dare to ask, not wanting him to belittle my boyfriend much more.

Lucas lifts his face, only doing a few of the bottom buttons up to his shirt, and gives me a shrug. "I wanted to see you."

"But why?" I press further, having a bit more confidence in myself to question things than the girl he knew back then.

Lucas turns, doing up his jeans while walking to the kitchen counter near us and grabbing a glass filled with what looks to be whiskey, and takes a sip, raising his brows at me as he does so. "Why is it important?"

Is he drinking at this time of the day? It's not even 5 pm.

I can't help thinking about what Andy would say about that, how harshly he would judge Lucas. He would never let me spend time with someone like this, usually.

I walk over to stand next to him, placing my shopping bag on the counter and folding my arms over my chest as I face him, "Because I didn't think you'd want to see me again after that night, and I don't understand why you do now."

"I have my reasons," he replies vaguely, taking another sip from his drink as he watches me over the rim of the glass.

I let out a frustrated breath, knowing I'm never going to get a straight answer out of him.

"So," he says, as he places his drink back on the counter, leaning against it with his hand, "Did you ever start taking those photos you wanted to?"

My brows shoot up in surprise, forgetting I'd mentioned that to him or that he actually remembered after all this time.

Sophie had warned me that Lucas didn't even take enough interest in a woman to even learn their name, let alone remember it, so this has caught me completely off guard.

"Yes, actually," I reply, still slightly dumbfounded.

He smiles at this, and it's one of the first smiles I've seen from him that looks genuine, not laced with mischief or arrogance.

"Good girl, I'm glad to hear that. I'm sure they're fantastic photographs."

I bought a camera a few months after that night with Lucas, and started taking photos at any chance I could get, becoming extremely passionate about the moments I could capture, how I could tell a story or portray a perception of something that people might not see with their own eyes.

It's really only a hobby, but I adore it.

I smile bashfully, genuinely appreciating the compliment.

"Come to Placebo tonight, bring your camera," he says with a stolid expression.

I scrunch my nose up, creasing my brows in confusion, "Why?"

I haven't been back to that place since I met Lucas; they aren't the sort of places I go near, especially these days.

"I know the owner, we have an event on tonight, he'll pay you to take photos of the crowd and use them to advertise the nights on their website," he explains casually, keeping his eyes on mine.

"Oh, Oh no, I couldn't do that," I decline quickly

"You can, and you will. I wasn't asking love."

My brows drop as I purse my lips, becoming annoyed with his bossy attitude. "It's rude to just demand people do whatever you want like that."

He takes a step towards me, leaning his face closer, "I never said I was polite. I don't ask for what I want, I take it."

My stomach turns at the drop of his voice and the intense look in his eyes, and I lean back to create some distance. "I can't tonight, I had plans with my boyfriend-"

"Bring him," he cuts me off, "I won't accept no as an answer, love."

Andy is going to have an aneurysm over this.

I sigh, wetting my lips as I try to compose myself from the feelings his eyes are flaring up inside of me again. "You really aren't giving me an option, are you?"

Apparently, I left my backbone at the front door when I walked in here.

He shakes his head, one of those smug smiles taking over his lips, "Be there at 10 pm, tonight is Devils Night, most people will be in masks or costumes, I suggest dressing up."

"I'm assuming dressing up isn't an option either?"

Lucas lifts his chin, staring down at me over his nose with that same smug look. "You're a fast learner."

I sigh heavily, slightly irritated with myself that I gave in this easily. I can't explain why this man can have me as putty in his hands. "I'm only doing this, this one time, I don't go to places like that."

"If you say so, sweetheart," he says dismissively, turning to grab his drink again. "You should probably get back to that boyfriend before he thinks someone's stolen you away."

"He doesn't have to worry about that," I say assuredly. Andy would never be concerned with such a thing; he knows what I'm like.

Lucas bites down on his lip, his eyes glinting slyly as if he's stopping himself from saying what he's thinking.

I grab the shopping bag from the counter, giving him a tight smile, "I should go, though. It was nice seeing you again."

That's a complete lie; seeing him has done nothing but turn my mind and nerves into shambles.

He chuckles, wetting his lips as he nods back towards me, "You'll be seeing a lot more of me, don't be late tonight."

My breathing labors as I swallow, backing away.

"Bye, Lucas," I say anxiously as I turn to make my way to the front door.

"Bye, little mouse," he murmurs.

As I turned, something caught my attention that sparked the same questions I had the night I spent with him, something I didn't notice when I first got there. In the living room, the back wall was covered with shelves from the floor to the ceiling, all filled to the brim with those same VHS tapes I had noticed in his bedroom, except now.

There were at least triple the amount.

As I reach the front door, I can't help but ask the same question swimming around in my mind: What could be on all of those tapes?

***