Centuries of Sin (Mature)

Call Me

Sawyer set the drink on the table in front of her and turned away, a smirk on the corner of his lips.

Holy s**t. Who was this guy?

Remembering the call from her publisher Elizabeth managed with great effort to write the date in the top right hand corner of the page.

She was now officially more productive than she had been in weeks.

But she still had no idea what to write about.

The four books she had already had published were about serial killers. She’d started with two of the bigger ones – Dahmer and Bundy. She’d been fascinated by them as a teenager and at age of nineteen she finished her first book. There was nothing new in it – what more was there to say about these people, really? But her writing style was captivating and people had loved it. The second book wasn’t far behind. By the time she started the third book she was ready to move on to more obscure true crimes. 

Her mother had berated her for her fascination with the macabre when she was a teenager, but when it started to pay the bills she lay off her a little. Now she would call her to offer juicy tidbits of information about unsolved murders and mysterious missing persons cases. It hadn’t helped recently. Elizabeth just couldn’t focus whenever she sat down to write.

She’d been with Matt for four years – it was a comfort relationship really. The kind of relationship you stay in because you like to have someone to go to the movies with and come home to when it’s miserable outside. But six months ago she’d walked in on him f*****g her former best friend in their bed.

She didn’t say a word to either of them. She turned and left. The result was a night spent drinking herself into a stupor which ended in a one night stand with a woman whose name she couldn’t even remember the next day. And when she got back to the apartment Matt, and all his belongings, were gone.

She hadn’t heard from him, or her former friend Kia, since then.

That was six months ago now. She’d recently heard through a mutual friend that they were engaged now, and expecting a little boy. She didn’t feel anything when she found out. All that did was reassure her that she hadn’t felt anything for Matt for a long time. She just wished the bastard had the guts to break up with her. And that Kia had been as good a friend as she once thought.

But maybe she was just kidding herself – she said that she didn’t feel anything, but here she was depressed and unable to concentrate on work six months later.

And now she was sat in the coffee shop, occasionally sipping at the chai latte and yet again thinking about Matt and Kia instead of picking any one of the hundreds of interesting unsolved murders she wanted to write about and throwing together an outline to send to Mike.

She screwed her eyes shut to try and clear her mind of the image of Kia panting and moaning on top of Matt and all of a sudden she was back in the same vision as earlier. Pinned against her bedroom wall by Sawyer, her legs around his waist and his mouth hot against her own. This time the vision was a little clearer – she realised that he was teasing her. They weren’t having s*x, he was making her wait. Did he want her to beg? His arms were around her now, and he lifted her with ease away from the wall, carrying her over to the bed where he lay her gently. He was on top of her then, holding her wrists down gently but firmly and then… then she was back in the coffee shop and wondering what the hell was wrong with her.

She looked down at her notebook to finally get to work, and was surprised to see there was something written there already

‘Call me.’

Underneath it was a mobile number.

She knew instinctively that it wasn’t an invitation, or a suggestion.  It was a command. And it was one she was more than willing to follow.

She closed the notebook hurriedly – there was no chance she was going to get anything one now – and stood up to leave.  She tried not to make eye contact with him, worried for some inexplicable reason of what would happen if she did. He seemed to do something to her on a deep instinctual level. As she pushed open the door she heard him again.

“Tonight.”

It was the same deep throaty whisper as before, and she knew that it was meant only for her ears.

When she got home she found she was finally able to write. The words poured out of her as though some dam had broken and everything that had been held back for months was finally spilling on to the page.

She knew what she was going to write about now. Fifteen young people had gone missing from her city in mysterious circumstances over the past 2 years. It was becoming an epidemic. No one knew where they had gone, but the police were convinced it was the work of a serial killer. They wouldn’t say what it was that made them so sure of the fact, but Elizabeth knew the local police force well enough to know they wouldn’t announce that unless they were sure of it. She was going to get to the bottom of it herself, and publish her best work in the process.

By three she was done. She looked triumphantly at the screen in front of her and went upstairs to retrieve her phone. For the first time in a long time she was excited to call Mike.

“Elizabeth, I cannot give you another extension on this deadline.” She had called him and asked so many times now that it was his automatic greeting to her.

“I’m done. I’ve finished the outline. I’m sending it to you now.” She hadn’t sounded so animated in a long time – months before Matt left now she thought about it. She was really excited about this project, a spark she thought she had lost forever was back.

“Really? That’s fantastic news! I can’t wait to read what crazy old serial killer you’re going to get people hyped up abut again this time. That Netflix adaptation of the last one got us quite a nice cheque…” he trailed off into a monologue about a bidding war between sss Prime and Netflix if they played their cards right. He had no idea what she had chosen to write about yet but he didn’t really care. As long as there was a book, and it was written by her, he was confident he could grab the attention of one of the many streaming services. Elizabeth wasn’t even annoyed by it – the royalties from the last one had saved her ass when it came to paying rent the past couple of months and she was still riding the high of finally knowing what she wanted to research. The distinctive noise of a notification on her phone bleeping in the background of the call caught her attention and she cut him off.

“Listen, I’m so glad you’re excited about this. I’ve gotta go now so I can send it across. Let me know what you think.”

“Of course, of course! Talk to you soon Lizzy.”

She hung up and looked down at the screen. It was a message from her mom. Another person she’d been avoiding recently but was finally ready to speak to.

By the time she’d calmed down a little and sent off the manuscript it was five. Going down to the kitchen to make a drink, she saw her notebook was open on the table. She was sure she’d left it in her office next to the computer. Absentmindedly walking over to the table as the kettle boiled she realised it was open on the page that Sawyer had written his number in. She must have left it open there to remind herself to call him, but she really couldn’t remember doing it.

Buzzing with the newfound confidence of having finally finished her work she picked up her phone and dialled in the number.

“Elizabeth.” She didn’t think abut the fact he hadn’t taken her number to know it was her without asking.

“You asked me to call. Here I am.” It wasn’t quite as flirtatious or suggestive as it had sounded in her head but f**k it – she’d got something out without stammering like an i***t and acting like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“I really don’t want to go for coffee right now, I’m sick of the stuff. But I would like to take you for something a little stronger if you’re up for it.”

“I would love to, I am really craving something hard right now,” she realised what she’d said as the words were leaving her mouth, “you know… hard liquor not… something else… f**k I’m embarrassing myself again, aren’t I?”

“Not at all. Meet me at the shop in half an hour?”

“I’ll be there.”

Half an hour was long enough to get herself together. She changed out of her casual clothes into an old favourite – a form fitting black lace dress which rested just above the knee. Long enough to cover a large scar on her thigh from an accident when she was a teenager, but short enough to get attention if she wanted it. She wore her long hair down, and expertly applied the smokey eye and deep red lip that was her signature make up look when she was single and looking for a hook up. OK, it wasn’t subtle – she wanted to f**k the guy. She hoped it didn’t look like she was too desperate as she picked out a pair of calf high black patent leather doc martens. At least they took it from ‘obviously looking to f**k’ to ‘alternative chick out on a date’.

Taking one least look at herself in the mirror she picked up her bag and threw on a leather jacket.

He was outside waiting for her as she rounded the corner and arrived at the shop. He wore a smart black coat over the tight black t-shirt and she suddenly worried that he was way out of her league. But he’d been the one who asked her for drinks, she reminded herself.

“You look perfect.” His choice of words made her blush deeply again. The guy knew exactly how to speak to a woman if he was aiming on getting her into bed. He didn’t need to bother with the damn drinks for all she cared.

“Thank you so much.”

“So where do you want me to take you?” Holy s**t, did this guy know what he was doing? You cannot be as hot as that and not realise when your words are such obvious innuendos, can you?

“Honestly? Home.” She laughed, and thankfully he did too.

But his eyes turned serious as quickly as they had lit up with laughter.

“Good.”

And all of a sudden his lips were on hers, as soft as they had been in her vision earlier in the day. His hands were on her waist, tracing the curves of her body as they slid around to her back, pulling her closer to him to deepen the kiss. She broke away from him, her heart was racing and she was breathless.

“Wow. That was… unexpected.”

He smiled in response, but he didn’t look friendly now. He looked almost hungry. Like he wanted to devour her right there in the street.

“Alright so… I was joking but I do only live a few minutes from here and I do have plenty to drink at my place if you are alright with skipping the bullshit and going straight there.”

“Sounds good.” He slung his arm around her waist and drew her close to his side as they began to walk towards her apartment. She could smell his cologne – a pleasantly masculine scent of sandalwood and some kind of citrus bark.

They made small talk along the way. She told him she was a writer, he replied that he had guessed. He told her he’d liked her t-shirt earlier and she responded that she had a lot of old horror movies like that at her place if he wanted to watch – they both knew that wouldn’t be happening but she hoped it left open the possibility of him asking to come over another time. They hadn’t even done anything yet and she was hoping he’d come over again.

They arrived at the apartment and he followed suit as she removed her jacket and shoes in the hallway. And then suddenly his hands were on her body again. Even above her clothes it felt like electricity was coursing through her at his touch. His eyes were locked with hers as they moved together into her living room. Feeling confident, she pushed him down onto the couch and then she knelt so that her knees on either side of his hips. Her hands slipped beneath the shirt and ran over the skin of his muscular torso, pushing the shirt up to take it off.

Casting the shirt aside she stopped to take in the sight of him without it. His body was well sculpted and as mind-blowingly hot as she had expected, but the smooth tanned skin of his chest and torso was crossed over with a number of deep scars. Some of them were healed silver with the distinctive look of a wound sustained long ago. Others were still almost fresh.

“Like what you see?”