Hunger (Damnation Book 1)

Chapter 4 - Lying in the Balance

A couple hours later, I leave Chase snoozing on his bed in an exhausted sleep. I need a glass of water. Walking down to the kitchen, I search for glasses. I feel a hand on my backside as I find them. "How did my son land a dream like you?" he asks, his voice soft but not sweet.

I startle. Normally, people can't get the jump on me, but he surprises me. I need to keep better care with my surroundings. Now, this attraction isn't me. I have nothing to do with this perv touching me at all. "Just lucky I guess," I lie.

He turns me around, and for once I feel my near nakedness. One of his shirts isn't much coverage. He presses closer to me and backs me into the bar. I don't like his nearness. It makes me uncomfortable. I don't get hot for old guys unless I must.

"You look good in my shirt," he whispers inching closer. His need is palpable in the air anyone could feel it, not just me.

I sidestep him and back away to the fridge like he isn't bothering me, like I really just want a glass of water, but really I just want to run. I could run back upstairs. Chase would probably punch his dad for touching me in any way. He's territorial like that. "Didn't know it was yours," I lie. "I can go change."

He smiles wickedly and says, "I wouldn't mind taking it off you."

Only I know he doesn't mean for me to go change. Eww. That's just gross. He's like twice my age. Even I'm not that bent unless I have to be and that doesn't mean I like it. The water is cold in my hands. I can feel it through the glass. It calms me a bit. I need to get a hold of this situation. Fast. I'd use my power, but I am kind of tapped out at this point. Plus, I might bat teenage boys around like a cat with a mouse, but older men have always intimidated me.

"I have to go. Your son wants his water," I say as I start out of the kitchen.

His arm blocks the exit. "What's your rush? Chase can get water from upstairs. He's a resourceful boy."

Taking a deep breath, I say, "I really should go, Mr. Adams." I really don't want to have to push him out of the way. Explaining why a girl half his size pushed him out of the way wouldn't be easy.

"Greg," he says. "Call me Greg."

Then, his hands are on my hips pushing me back against the bar. With practiced moves, he quickly takes the glass out of my hand and sets it out of the way. How many other girls has he bombarded like this? How many of his son's exes has he tried to have sex with?

I shudder. Again, gross.

His lips fall on mine, and while I recognize that he is a good kisser, this is just wrong. I push him back and say, "No, Mr. Adams. I'm only seventeen. This is illegal. Aren't you a lawyer?"

He smiles and says, "I won't tell if you don't."

This guy is sick. I push him back farther, trying hard to not overdo it and say, "This better not happen again, Mr. Adams." My voice is harder than it was a moment before. I have enough power for that.

"And why is that?" he asks, mocking me with my tone.

"Because you didn't sell your soul for me like your son did."

I can see his muscles tense under his designer clothes. "Pardon?" he asks. The muscle in his jaw is twitching like crazy.

I push him back until he is leaning against the opposite bar. Oh, how the tables have turned and I kind of like it. "You sold your soul to my father to get rich and have Cordy as your buxom secretary. Chase sold his for me," I say as I flick him in the chest.

"Not my boy," he says softly, but still full of rage.

My smile is now eviler than his. "Now, he's my boy."