Chapter 4: Saved and Ruined By Mr. Broody

~Lucy~

Next day

Following my best friend’s advice, I decide to try something new. Instead of waiting for that spark to hit me like lightning before I return to my usual erotic style, I’m going to paint something completely different. Something I’m not used to… but something I can still do.

An exotic bird.

It sounds random, I know. But it’s colorful and elegant. It has nothing to do with sex, at least, that’s what I keep telling myself. Even as I imagine it, I catch my brain trying to turn the curve of its feathers into something sensual. It's ridiculous. How does someone even accidentally sexualize a bird?

Still, today I must paint. No more blank canvases mocking me from across the room. No more waiting.

I refuse to let another day become a repeat of yesterday.

So I throw on something simple, tie my hair up, and head out to the mall just to grab some fresh paint and brushes. I already have tons at home, and plenty more at the gallery, but something about going out… It feels like a reset. Like breathing new air for the first time in months.

It’s silly, but I feel good. Hopeful. Maybe today will finally be a good day.

I take out the bags filled with my painting materials and lock my car, ready to make it back to my room, when a sudden figure appears beside me and makes me jump.

“Oh my God!” I exclaim, clutching my chest. “You scared the shit out of me, Lorry.”

His mouth curls into a slow smile. “I’m sorry, dear. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

His eyes trail down the length of my body, lingering far too long, and then, ugh, he bites his bottom lip like he thinks he’s in some romance movie. “You’re such a gorgeous woman,” he murmurs.

My stomach twists. Of all the shitty things that could happen today, this creep showing up had to be one of them.

What the hell is he doing here?

Lorry is a freak. A real-life walking red flag. I’ve had a weird feeling about him since the first time he showed up at one of my exhibits, asking way too many personal questions. But I never gave him my address, never mentioned where I lived, so how the hell did he find the estate I moved to?

Oh: he’s been stalking me.

I drop my bags and take a step back, eyes narrowing. “What do you want? Have you been stalking me or what?”

Lorry’s face twists into something pitiful. “I… I’m sorry, it’s not like that. I just… I can’t get you out of my mind.” He chuckles nervously, then looks me dead in the eye. “I want to hold you like the way your characters hold each other in those erotic paintings. I want to feel you. Let me be the one you use to bring your work to life.”

My skin crawls. I blink twice, stunned. “What the actual fuck? Are you kidding me?”

He steps forward suddenly, grabbing my shoulders with sweaty hands. “I’m serious, Lucy. I want to be your man. I can treat you right.”

I jerk away from him, heart pounding. “Let me go!”

But he grabs me again, stronger this time, holding me tightly like he owns me. “I swear, I’ll call security!” I cry, trying to yank myself free.

“Lucy, come on,” he breathes, face inches from mine. “Let’s go to my place. You need a man. You paint about it all the time, let me make those dreams real.”

“Shut up! Let me go!” I scream, pushing at his chest.

His fingers dig into my arms. “Stop struggling, Lucy. Aren’t you tired of being alone?”

“Help!” I yell, raw fear covering me. “Somebody help me!” Tears blur my vision. He’s stronger than me. Is he trying to kidnap me? Assault me?

“Keep it cool, Lucy,” he hisses, pressing his body against mine, holding me like it’s some twisted romance.

“Hey!” a deep voice suddenly snaps through the air. Lorry freezes. His hands drop away from me instantly. We both turn, and there he is, Mr. Next Door.

His face is stone hard as he storms over, eyes blazing with rage. Without a word, he swings his fist and slams it into Lorry’s jaw. Lorry stumbles backward with a grunt, but before he can recover, Mr. Next Door punches him again, this time, a blow to the gut. Lorry folds over with a wheeze.

Mr. Next Door grabs his collar, yanking him upright, eyes piercing. “What the fuck were you trying to do?” he growls. “Grabbing a woman like that?”

“I… I wasn’t— I didn’t mean to,” Lorry stutters, voice shaking. His lip trembles, and tears slip down his face. “I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me.”

“Scram!” Mr. Next Door shoves him hard in the chest, making him stumble again. “If I ever see you near her again, I’ll fucking kill you!”

Damn! He's so hot when he's furious.

“I’m sorry, sir!” Lorry cries, practically tripping over his own feet as he tries to run away.

“I said scram!” Mr. Next Door booms.

Lorry flees in fear, his panic so strong he slams his head against the wall in his rush. He whimpers and keeps running.

Mr. Next Door turns to me once Lorry disappears into the distance. “Are you okay?”

“I didn’t ask you to help me,” I snap, frowning. “I had it under control. I didn’t need you.”

“Is that so?” he grunts, stepping closer. “So I should’ve just let that creep drag you away?”

“Yeah, I mean… I would’ve fought him off.”

“You were crying for help.”

“I was trying to scare him,” I roll my eyes, folding my arms.

“Really?” His mouth curves in a slow, dangerous smile as he grabs my waist, dragging me closer until our bodies nearly touch. His scent is rich, intoxicating, something between spice and danger, flooding my senses.

Fuck.

And the way his eyes bore into mine, like he’s staring into my soul; it’s scary, but I’m captivated. I can’t look away. I hate him. I hate how attractive he is even when he’s infuriating. But I hate even more that I don’t want to break the stare.

“Why are you so stubborn, hmm?” he murmurs, his voice thick like honey. “Always pretending you don’t care about me?”

The way he's gripping my waist… I hate how much I want to melt into him.

“Let me go,” I say, weakly pushing at his chest, even though I don’t mean it.

He doesn’t budge. “Didn’t you say you can save yourself? Then save yourself from me now.”

He leans closer, his voice a dark whisper against my ear. “Lucy… if I wanted to, I’d bend you over right here, right now. But I don’t have to force you. You’d give yourself to me, willingly. I’d crawl into that stubborn little head of yours, and I’d make you dream about me. Crave me. Beg me to fuck every ounce of that bratty attitude out of you.”

My breath catches. God. Why am I wet? Why is my mind begging me to beg him?

Snap. Out. Of. It.

“Ohhh,” I scoff, blinking away the heat clouding my head. “So you want to see the color of my panties? Is that it, Mr. Next Door? Want a taste?”

“You’re the one who wants a taste of me, Lucy,” he says, pressing his body harder against mine. My clit throbs with the contact. “I saw how you looked at me at the gym yesterday. Say it, Lucy. Say you want me. But I won’t make it easy. You’ll beg me to ruin you.”

“I don’t want you!” I shove him back, my chest rising. “Fuck you!” I flip him off. “I would never want a grump like you. You’re a fucking asshole!”

I bend to grab my bags, but he snatches them before I can. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Whatever you think,” he says over his shoulder.

My jaw drops. “What?!”

Before I can cuss him out, he storms off with my bags, and like a damn idiot, I trail behind him, stunned, fuming, and turned on.

Who the fuck does this man think he is?