GEMMA

 

 

 

I planned on every possible outcome when I decided to come out here and find this man. Everything.

Except for his intoxicating effect on me. His captivating face.

That long, thick, untamed beard that conceals half his ruggedly handsome face. His deep, guttural voice.

The way his hungry eyes rake over every single inch of me.

It was true.

Everything they said about him.

The way he looks. His raw, almost primal masculinity and gleaming, mischievous eyes that unsettle me down to my very core. I saw images of his face in the papers after his accident and video from his court case, but none came even close to the truth. And his leg? Covered by loose-fitting blue jeans, cut off just below the right knee, it was only then that the reality of his situation struck me.

He’s a man who's faced hell and come back.

A dark cloud hovers over his eyes. Dark, unfathomable eyes that have probably seen wicked, twisted things no man should be allowed to see. When he caved, and I finally realized he had invited me inside his house, it was like I entered his very soul.

Dark. Twisted. Hellish.

Even in the dim light that filtered through the ancient, yellowed windows, it was clear that the right side of his neck going down to his shoulder was singed. I can't even imagine what the rest of his body looks like, let alone his missing leg. I’d researched so much about him, but I didn’t know how unbelievably seductive he’d be up close.

Or that he’d be way more frightening than the Press made him out to be. Despite all that, I find myself intrigued.

Attracted to him even.

His sharp tongue and crude manners only add to his appeal. He’s like no man I’ve ever met before. Although his eyes would blatantly rake over every inch of my body, his hands were kept at his side. Strong, rough-looking hands that once maneuvered the world's finest sports cars on the race track. A man who, during his prime, had won several international trophies.

A man of few words.

A solemn, dangerous man. A man to be reckoned with.

Venom dripped from his voice at my intimate questions, and he seemed impatient to get rid of me, but then, he boldly propositioned me to stay so he could fuck me.

And when I refused, he warned me of the Bayou’s lurking danger, supplying me with an umbrella before sending me on my way. He makes all my senses come alive, and I can't help but wonder how his beard would feel if I were to reach out and touch him.

Would he tell me off again, or would he catch my hand and press it against his cheek, craving more of the intimate caress?

Half the time, I don't even understand the words coming out of his sinful mouth. That's how strong his accent is. And I have to get away from him because I know that if I take him up on his offer, I’m going to get lost in his darkness and never find my way back.

So, instead, I try to distance myself from him.

Pulling out my phone from my purse again, I press the power button once more. Still dead. Nothing but a vague green light coming from the top right corner of the now black screen.

Damn thing decided to bail on me just when I needed it the most. How can he not even own a working phone, huh?

What kind of a Neanderthal is this man?

I start walking along the banks of the swamp and glance around at the thick, tall grass, the cattails and cypress trees, and the wide stretch of murky, stagnant waters. After walking a little more, I decide to stay put. I look around, but there are no side roads or houses I can see, and slowly, the sweltering midday heat gives way to deep, crepuscular darkness.

Shadows become frightening creatures, and as the rain starts to fall again, I look for shelter in the nearby oak trees.

Thunder begins splitting the dark skies, and I take a moment to look up at a blood-red moon hiding behind the clouds.

It would be an alluring scene under any other circumstances. Not tonight.

Tonight, I feel threatened and exposed to the elements. After a while, it’s so damn dark I feel like evil is lurking at my next step, and I wonder if the wise thing to do would have been to take him up on his offer. The thick night air is laden with chirping sounds croaking, howling, and other unrecognizable noises that send shivers down my spine. The rain lets up a few minutes later, and I decide to walk just a little further along the river bank in search of some kind of tree stump or fallen log to sit on, and it's then that I hear it;

A sudden, splashing sound coming from near my feet. Panicking, I walk further away from the water's edge in a rush, but my foot gets trapped in the dense foliage, and I fall into the murky waters. Screaming wildly, I struggle to fight the unseen monster. Arms and legs flailing, I grasp the exposed roots of a nearby tree for leverage and slowly claw my way back to the land of the living.

Whew! That was close.

Now wet, sticky, and dirty from head to toe, I count my blessings and thank God I didn’t go further into this disgusting, crocodile-ridden wetland.

God!

Cursing my decision to ever set foot in this place, I decide to cut my losses and do the very thing I promised myself I wouldn’t do.

Take the Neanderthal up on his damn offer.

If I had that monstrous beast of a man in front of me right now, I'd probably beat him with all my might, amputee or not.