Making Monsters (6 page)

“How many times do I have to tell you, the only woman I want is you?” His voice deepened
with raw intensity.

 

“Okay.”

 

“Not okay, Malia. You are what I want. Do you understand?

 

“Yeah.” She reared back and bumped her head on the wall.
Who was this man?

“Turn around.” He stepped away, giving her more room. Water poured over him; his hair
plastered against his head. He closed his eyes, and his head fell forward. After a few moments he
walked from beneath the flow of water and shook it. Beads of liquid popped everywhere. He
lifted his lids in a flash, and his stare pinned her where she stood.

“I
said
turn around, Malia.”

She moved slowly, twisting her torso to peek over her shoulder. With a flick of the wrist, he
unbuttoned his jeans, and then he was on her, kissing her neck. He slid his hands down her wet
arms, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. Those nerve-endings must have had a direct
line to her pussy, because she felt his touch deep in the pit of her belly, and her cream flowed
over her damp crevices. He wrapped his fingers around her wrists and raised her arms high,
laying his hands on the back of hers as she released her fists to rest her hands on the cool tile.

“That’s my girl.” His lips brushed her earlobe.

Malia felt a small sting as he sucked it between his teeth and bit down, lapping her tingling
lobe with his tongue to sooth the bite. Her cleft clenched as he drew his knuckles down her arms
and across her shoulder blades. He leaned on her, and her breasts were hard-pressed against the
wall. Her belly quivered as all nerves led directly to her throbbing clit. His palms skimmed her
side, and she felt his lips journey lower, using her spine as a road map. Malia dropped her head
on the tile surface. The chill was a relief on the heated skin of her face.

His hands followed his mouth, and she felt the sharp sting of his fingertips biting into the
sensitive skin of her ass. Water rose in the tub, and she swallowed before looking behind her. His
shirt had drifted over the drain and become stuck. Waves rocked the cloth back and forth as Paul
dropped to his knees. She stared down at him, and he looked up at her with a devilish smile. He
pulled her ass cheeks apart and kissed her rosebud. Sensations washed over her, and Malia forgot
everything else around them. His tongue was doing amazing things to her asshole. She closed her
eyes and formed fists, beating back the urge to bang them against the wall.

Currents of desire pulled at her like puppets strings, eliciting different reactions within her
body. The rough texture of his sliding tongue on the soft skin of her pucker made her clit pulse
and her orbs felt heavy. The urge to touch herself became overwhelming. She felt a pull on her
clit, and his deft fingers alternated between pinching and massaging her hard nubbin. Unable
to stop, she rotated her hips. Rolling her face on the tile, she opened her eyes and looked down.
He’d snaked his hand around her waist and held her in place, with his other hand wide across her
stomach. Then, she felt his tongue slip into her ass completely, and she lost sense of everything
but the feelings erupting through her. An orgasm flooded her body with molten heat, and her
knees weakened. She felt herself sliding down into the bathwater as she subconsciously fell into
chasm of swirling colors.

Suddenly, he was there, pinning her up with his body and kissing the back of her neck. He
whispered in her ear, “Don’t move.” Then her back was cold. The shower water drizzled on her
skin. She heard the
click
of his zipper as he lowered it, and then the
plop
of his pants as he
pushed them off and into the bath. A wave of water surged over the rim of the tub, splashing on
to the linoleum floor.

Free of his jeans, he covered her back, the length of his shaft pressed into the crack of her
butt. He slid it along her soft skin, and her limbs trembled. She pushed against him, and the air
whipped around her front, tightening her nipples impossibly harder. The wail, which poured
from her lips, bounced around the tiny bathroom. He tapped each of her feet with his, forcing her
legs as wide as they could go in the constricted space.

Paul kissed the other side of her neck and reached around her, taking a heavy mound in each
hand.

 

“I love your ass, baby, but these…” He squeezed them, tweaking a taut nub between the
side of his middle and ring finger. “Your body enthralls me. I never know where to begin.”

Malia’s soprano moan answered his touch. He thrust his shaft between her cheeks, catching
her off guard as he squeezed his cock head past her snug opening. She tensed, and he groaned.
He descended south with his hand, slipping past her rib cage and over the soft curve of her belly.
She sucked in her stomach at the light touch of his fingertips. He moved lower still and combed
his digits through the course hair or her nether-lips. With his thumb, he massaged her clitoris and
skimmed his hand through her saturated folds. Malia could feel her cream surging from her core.
Her body bowed when he drove his fingers into her channel, and she dropped her head back onto
his shoulder. The sensation of fullness wrapped her in a warm cocoon. His digits
slid back and forth into her channel, and his shaft slowly stretched her behind as he worked his
way farther into her ass.

He leaned her forward, sliding his lips over her temple. She threw her hands up, and the
sound of her slapping the tile reverberated through the room. Malia stopped herself before her
face planted into the tile as he pushed her up on her toes, burying his cock as far as he could. He
stopped, and Malia waited; she wiggled, but he gripped her hips to control her movements. She
shoved back, and the short hairs dusting his thighs tickled her butt-cheeks.

“Will you move already!” She went up and down on the tips her toes.

 

“Whatever you want.” His voice was like gravel in her ears.

Paul moved away, and her body felt bereft as he slowly slid his shaft almost completely
from her body, before he rammed it up into her anal passage again and again. She lost herself in
the rhythm their bodies created. The rumbles in his chest resonated in her as he aligned himself
flush with her body. Every drive plunged her deeper into a rising abyss. The drone of the shower
had become background noise, adding water to the growing puddle of the floor. Her body
shuddered as the ravine rose up to claim her, and darkness enveloped her. He grunted, and his
body dropped, slamming her forward.

They both slid into the tub, and a deluge of water crashed over the rim.

 

“Baby, I keep telling you, you’re heavy.” Malia shook her shoulders.

 

“Uh-huh, but sweetness, you blinded me, and for a minute I swear I might have seen the
face of God. And I gotta tell you, he was smiling.”

 

“You have lost your mind,” she chuckled. “Seriously.”
Chapter Six

She was a
lert, something wasn’t right, Malia sat straight up, and Paul’s arm rolled into her
lap. There was that niggling feeling she couldn’t shake. She eased from the bed and walked to
the picture window, using her index finger she pulled the curtain aside. The parking lot was
completely empty, and she chewed on the inside of her cheek. That was never a good sign for a
motel like this.

“Paul.” She shook his side. “Paul!”

 

He lifted his lids, and a lazy smile blossomed on his face. His arm snaked out to snag her by
the waist. “Baby, I am so ready for round three.”

 

Malia sighed. “Get your mind out of the gutter. I think we have a problem.”

 

He frowned, pursed his lips, and let her go. “Wuz up?”

 

“The parking lot is empty”

 

“So?”

 

“Use the big brain, baby. This is the kind of motel frequented by hookers and drug addicts.
Even if it’s not full, the lot should never be empty.”

 

Paul sat up and turned, setting his feet on the carpet. “Damn.”

 

“Yeah, my thinking exactly.”

 

He drew a hand down his face. “Bathroom window is out. The alleyway is paved, and the
opening itself is too narrow for me to get through.

 

The bed dipped when Malia sat down. “Our only option is the front door. The police have
probably been canvasing the area. I bet they believe we’re still sleeping.”

 

“Wouldn’t they see us leave?”

 

“I don’t think so. The door is shadowed by the other-side of the building. We crack it open
only wide enough to ease through.”

 

“Then what?”

 

“I’ll work it out, but that’s as far as I’ve planned yet. Get dressed.”

They dressed in silence. She could hear the wet slap of his clothing as he maneuvered to get
the items on. With the lights off, she hoped whoever was watching the door wouldn’t notice the
movements. They needed to make a quick pit stop at the car, and then they could move on.
Hopefully, she would be able to watch the town’s skyline in her rearview mirror.

The warmth of his palm seeped into her neck muscles where he held her. “You ready?”

Malia nodded, shut off the bedside lamps, and they dropped to the floor to duck walk to the
door. She slid the chain off and cracked it open. When nothing happened, she pulled it farther
into the room. The muggy heat swept in and blew across her face. She reached to make sure her
gun was still snug at the small of her back. On an inhale, she tilted her head to look around the
doorjamb. The walkaway was empty, and the night quiet. She exhaled and eased around the
threshold, keeping close to the wall. With a
click
, Paul closed the door as he left.

She didn’t look behind her to confirm it, but she felt Paul’s presence. Slowly, she led him
toward the second stairwell at the end of the hall. Footsteps stopped her; Paul plowed into her
back. She threw her hand behind her, slapping him on the chest. Malia plastered herself to the
wall and felt him do the same. The policeman’s head popped up over the stairs. She wrapped her
palm around the Beretta 9 millimeter, taking comfort in the feel of cold hard steel. Paul’s hand
covered hers, and he shook his head when she glanced his way. He motioned his head toward the
railing, and she shook her head violently.

His eyes widened behind the lenses, and he pushed her deeper into the shadows, covering
her with his body. The cop was humming, taking his time. He stopped at the top of the landing,
placed his hand over the butt of his gun, and meandered toward their room. His shoulders were
hunched, and a look of stoicism now masked his face. He didn’t notice them in the corner. Malia
looked over Paul’s shoulder and saw three more police officers coming from the opposite
direction.

She placed her lips on his ear. “If that many men came up on that side, you can bet your
microscope there are more guys at the foot of those stairs.” She threw up her chin to indicate
where they were headed.

“I know. When they enter the room we can climb over the railing, hide in the pool.” Paul’s
voice was low.

 

“I’d rather shoot it out than hide in that muck.”

 

He sighed. “Honestly, that stuff is probably closer to what penicillin is made of than
anything else.”

 

“I’ve been with you long enough to know what antibiotics are made of, and mold
can
make
you sick.” She narrowed her eyes.

A cop called out, announcing himself. They turned their heads in unison. Flashlights were
raised. Another officer at the back of the group produced a small battering ram. The first man
yelled out an ultimatum. They raised the thick metal bar high in anticipation, and streetlights
reflected off its surface as the men swung it. The crack of wood shattering split the quiet. Fire
flared briefly, and a slim spiral of smoke circled above the silver can before it was tossed into the
room. A bright flash lit the night, and a heavy miasma drifted out as the throng of men
disappeared into the haze.

“Now.” Paul rose quickly, turning to grab her hand.

He pulled her up, and they crossed the hall to the railing. Paul threw his leg over the
wrought iron. Holding her arm, he helped her over the banister and finished climbing across.
They stood gripping the handrail, and Malia looked down in the dark pit of black water. Behind
her, she could hear the cops calling out to each other.
Can we say overkill?
She raised her head
to look at Paul. A smirk lifted the side of his mouth. He mouthed words she couldn’t make out
and let go. She dove in behind him.

***

The water was so thick it didn
’t splash. Paul burst through the stagnant water and gulped air.
He swirled around, flaying his arms. Malia hadn’t come up for air. He took a deep breath and
plunged into the noxious mix. His
fingers touched on something. He lunged deeper and brushed on digits. A hand locked on his
wrist; his lungs burned with the need for oxygen. He pumped his legs and pulled the heavy
burden he’d latched onto up. He didn’t dare open his eyes but he felt smooth palms rub his body
using him like a ladder to move higher.

They broke through the surface next to an old blow up lounger. A light beam crossed their
path and they dipped beneath the water. He stuck his hand out, after a few waves through the
grimy liquid his digits touched on the slimy plastic. Paul pulled it their way. She lifted her face
above the muck and sputtered. He pulled her close framing her body with his to keep her from
sliding under. Above them, policemen where crawling everywhere, shouting to each other. Paul
kicked his legs, the jean material heavy on his limbs, something akin to goo wrapping itself
around his ankles. He hit the rough edge of the pool, and a sharp piece of broken tile sliced his
bicep.

He bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out. Hot tears burned behind his
lidded eyes. He opened them and looked down. Malia’s eyes were closed and her breathing was
even. He’d never been a religious man, preferring the stark truth of facts he could decipher, but
looking at her, he prayed.
Please get us out this, and if you can’t … keep her safe.