Pyke

NIGHT STALKER SERIES: Book 1: PYKE

Camila

The NIGHT STALKER CLUB is grandiloquent in red neon bold letters-it's blindingly bright as to obscure my vision.

The club is best known for elites and celebrities, but my cousin has the luck to work as one of the bartenders. I'm glad to hear the news of re-opening after the last month's incident. It means my cousin is back in his work.

Bianca presents our ID to one of the bouncers who looks huge and intimidating. He gives me a second look after glancing back to our ID on his hand. I may look younger than my age but I'm already twenty one and I just got my college degree.

The bass frequencies from the huge sound systems reverberate through my chest cavity. My eyes widen in amazement to see the virtual music playing on the 3D walls. Laser lights flash patterns to the dance floor, and it simultaneously changes colors to the beat of the music. Pretty awesome, I must say.

The DJ plays one of the most popular hit songs on the chart. People yell in excitement, hands raising in the air as they move like in slow motion.

Bianca and Megan drag me to the crowded dance floor. The smell of sweat, perfumes, and booze don't stop me from swaying my hips as I watch my friends are also dancing with me.

I grin and close my eyes. It feels good to get lost in the music thumping through the speakers. The beat of the music starts pulsating my body as I follow the rhythm.

We dance for I don't know how long until I am sweaty and slick. My breathing catches and my heart thumping wildly in my chest.

Bianca says something that I can't make out any words.

"What?" I yell.

We bark into laughter when we clearly can't understand one another. We get ourselves out of the dance floor, even so, the music is still loud for us to start chatting.

"I need a drink!" Megan yells to my ear.

I nod in agreement, yelling back, "I need a restroom!"

She leans her face closer, pointing to the empty table at the left corner of the bar. "We'll be there."

I nod then walk away, trying to find the ladies room. I groan inwardly as I see the line of women waiting outside the ladies room is longer than customers waiting on a sale.

My shoulders sag as I walk away until a strong hand grabs me on my arm. I yelp in surprise, hand flies over my chest.

A pair of brown eyes narrowing down at me. His fake blond hair is jelled up to look like a Mohawk.

"What the hell are you doing in here, Cam?" my cousin, Kyland asks.

"Why do people go to the nightclubs, Kill?" I bark sarcastically.

"Why didn't you tell me you're coming?" he asks, though he knows already the answer. His pierced brows meet, clearly not happy to see me here.

His mom raised us together. He's like a brother to me. I don't want an hour of his lecture on why I come tonight though, that's why I did not tell him.

"As if you will allow me." I pouted.

"It's Saturday night and it's too loud and crowded for you, " he says as if I haven't noticed.

"I do have eyes, and the last time I checked my auditory nerves are just perfectly fine."

Kyland groans, clenching his jaw. Seconds later he sighs in defeat. "Where are your friends?"

I know it's too late for him to do anything. We're already here, and he happens to like my friends.

"They found a table."

He nods glumly, looking at the long line of women. "Do you need a restroom?"

"Yup."

"Come with me." He grabbed my wrist. Kyland is a perfect cousin though he's overprotective and annoying sometimes.

I follow him, then he fishes out the keys from his pocket as we stop in front of the door with 'for employees use only' sign at an eye level.

"I have to go back to work. Get back to your friends once you're done and lock the door after you, okay?" He inspects me from head to toe, shaking his head, then walks away without a single word.

I know he's going to berate me for what I wear tonight. I'll think about what to answer later, or I might shut my mouth up for the rest of his talk.

I get inside the restroom, uttering thank you. This is a hundred times cleaner than the public restroom that I'm going to use if Kyland didn't see me.

Once I'm done with my deeds, I pat my hands dry with a paper towel while taking a look at myself in the mirror. I re-coat my lips with the red lipstick I have on my purse and run my fingers through my wavy chocolate brown hair.

Closing the door behind me with a sigh of satisfaction, I walk away.

"Harder!" A voice of a woman makes me to a standstill.

My brow rises.

"Oh God, faster!"

"Fuck!" A rich masculine voice with a hint of roughness grunts. His single word gives me shiver, and something in me awakens at that tone.

I scan the narrow hallway-a dark wooden door is just a few steps away from me.

"Oh God, more! Harder!" the woman yells in between pants. "Make me come."

The man groans.

What am I doing?

Why am I even listening to them having sex? I'm not that naive not to figure out what they're doing. I blink repeatedly and pretend as if I am not hearing them. I shake the thought out of my head, walking away when that door bangs, making me jump in surprise. A squeal escapes my mouth.

Thump.

Thump.

"Yes, yes! I'm coming. I'm coming!" the woman screams, even louder than before.

The thumping continues.

For God's sake, Cam! Why are you still standing here?

"Fuck!" His voice dips low with a slow drawl. A voice that draws me in even more.

What's wrong with me? I shake my head annoyingly.

"Come, Tiffany!" the man commands with a growl.

"It's Brittany!" she corrects him, sounding annoyed.

Heat flushes through my body with anger. What an asshole? Doesn't he even know her name?

"Sorry. I mean Brittany, " the man apologizes quickly.

I roll my eyes. I startle when the door thuds again-it rattles and might lose from its hinges.

Another thump.

"Oh, yes, Pyke!"

Pyke?

PYKE

For the umpteenth times, I chuckle and shake my head in disbelief to what had happened earlier. What she did to me almost piss me off, but for some reason, I can't.

I've been sitting in my office where I just pressed that Brittany girl against the door. I gently rub my swollen and warm left cheek. Cringing, I press the cold bottled water on my affected face.

I'm more of a one-night stand kind of guy. I've never slept with the same woman twice. I make sure she knows that it's only a one-time thing before I fuck her. I love sex, but I also love my life, and I don't want a complicated relationship to complicate my life.

My mind goes back to that brunette. She's hot as fuck, but she's also furious as hell, and I don't even know why she's so pissed at me.

I pull up my boxers after taking off the used condom and throws it to the bin.

"Thanks for tonight, lover boy!" the girl purrs seductively, biting her bottom lip. She's attractive, but she's just my flavor for tonight.

"You're welcome, babe. Close the door after you, " I say casually.

"We can do it again some other time, you know, " she suggests, zipping her dress up.

"You know me already, Brandy. I don't do that kind of thing."

She shoots me a glare, face flushes with anger. She harshly grabs her purse on top of my desk. "You're a dick!"

"My name is Gisele, by the way!" She walks to the door, then slams it behind her.

This is what I don't like. Sometimes girls get clingy. Blowing a breath through my nose, I wash my face and run my hands through my hair in frustrations.

Why do women like things get complicated?

I get out of my office and abruptly stop to see a brunette looks so pissed.

"Did you enjoy the show? You could've joined us. That would be an awesome-threesome." Okay, that's way out of line.

Her dark brown eyes glint like an obsidian stone pierces with a fire of hatred, but there's a hint of surprise when our gazes meet. She swallows hard as her face turns red.

Why is she angry at me?

"You're such an asshole! You just made that woman cry. Are you always like this? Just wanted sex then throw them out like trash once you're done?"

She wears a fuck-me-high heel that adds a few inches to her maybe five feet and four inches tall. She has a straight and small nose that's now flaring with fury. Her red-painted lips are press into a thin line.

Fuck me if she doesn't have gorgeous tits. Her dress fits perfectly like it's only made for her. The V cut of her dress shows more of her juicy cleavage. What can I say? I'm a boob man.

Her flat abdomen is in full view as well. I can imagine running my tongue until she squirms and curls her toes underneath me.

I'm into a blonde, but fuck me if I'm not going to fuck her brains out. All she needs is just to ask. I love to hear her screams than shouting at me like a clingy girlfriend.

I've just fucked someone, but my cock is already on full alert.

"Are you deaf or just an idiot?"

I blink. "Is she happens to be your sister?" I don't know why I bother to ask because they don't have resemblances. Or that woman could be her friend?

She narrows her eyes again. "I already punched your face if you made my sister cry like that!"

"Then what is your problem, babe?" I smirk.

She rolls her eyes. "Did your parents not teach you how to treat a woman?"

"Wow!" I huff. I can't believe she just insulted my innocent parents over this. "Keep my parents out of it, woman. You're maybe hot, but you don't have to drag my parents to what I'm doing. You don't have the right to insult them. Who are you anyway? I don't ask them how to fuck women. I didn't hear any complaints from anyone I fucked so far. I only heard them screaming my name many times more than I could count."

Her mouth gapes. I want to bite that lip until it draws blood. I don't realize that I'm already biting mine.

"Who are you?"

"None of your business. I don't just give my name to a stranger and especially to someone like you!" She crosses her arms over her chest, giving me more view of her tits.

"Someone handsome and hot like me?" Smirking, I cock a brow, pointing at myself. I don't know why I enjoy bickering with this hot piece of a cantankerous.

"A dick like you!"

My lips spread to a dirty grin. "Hmm, you should see it yourself, babe."

Her eyes widen. If her face turns red with anger before, now, it turns as beet-red. Her mouth forms an O shape.

"That wouldn't fit." I pointed at her mouth.

She clamps it shut.

"Asshole!" She pushes me, and I stumble back.

"Whoa! Whoa! Woman, calm the fuck down!" I raise my hands to stop her.

"You're such a prick!" she screams, moving closer, then hits my hand with her purse.

I groan in pain.

"A dick!" She does another strike-harder this time, and there's something hard and cold, maybe a metal just hits my cheek, making me wince in pain.

"I know! I'm well aware I have a dick. A huge dick!" I block her strike, then it suddenly stops. My hands are still up in the air that she might do it again.

What had just happened?

"I hate you!" she spits.

A few seconds later, I hear her heels clicking in distant.

"I can sue you, woman!" I yell, lowering my arms slowly.

"Good luck, manwhore!" she yells back.

"Nice ass, by the way!" I shout when I see her walking away, swaying her hips seductively. She does that on purpose because she notices me glancing at her ass. A fine ass.

Christ!

She holds her middle finger up in the air. Instead of getting pissed, I bark into laughter.

You will pay for that, woman!

***

It's already morning, but my brain is still hazy with my encounter with that hot brunette. I sit on a stool of my bar without uttering a word. One of my bartenders who happens to be my friend places a glass of whiskey in front of me.

I mutter thanks. Wright turns to place the bottle back to the rack. He takes a damp cloth then stops, leans his elbows on the counter, and scans my face.

"What happened to that?" he asks with curiosity. "I don't see you as a war freak. Did you have kinky sex with that blonde?"

I pick up the glass he offers, swirling it gently. I lifted the glass to my nose, savoring the smokiness of the neat whiskey. I drain it into my mouth in a gulp, wincing when it reaches my throat.

"I didn't have kinky sex, " I answer calmly.

"Got into trouble? Hughes, you could've called me if you needed help."

"Wright, you've known me since you've started working with me. I've never been in a fight, have I?"

"Do you want another?"

I shake my head.

"Need ice for that?"

I shake again.

"Do you want to talk about that?"

My lips spread into a smile. My mind goes back to that fiery brunette.

"Is it a woman?"

I arch my brow. "Since when did you become nosy?"

He laughs. "So, it's indeed a woman, huh? What did you do to piss her off that ended her giving you a damn bruise?" He points at my left cheek and shakes his head in amusement.

If he only knows how hot she is...

"I don't have any idea why she's pissed at me. She just came out of the blue, questioned me, then ended up hitting me on my damn face."

"Wow! She's something!" Kyland laughs.

"You've no idea, and she's hot! Like flaming hot!" I draw fingers of her body shape in the air.

He leans his back against the liquor rack, crossing his arms over his chest. "But you didn't bang her."

Sighing out of frustrations, I reply, "I doubt if I ever see her again."

"You will, once you do, you can spank her ass till red as a punishment, " he snorts and adds, "nobody says no to Pyke Hughes."

"She's not the type that I used to bang, Wright. She's a brunette, " I say, pursing my lips.

"She's what?"

My head snaps at him. His eyes narrow at me. Before I can say something, his phone vibrates in his pocket.

Pressing his phone to his ear, he speaks, "Hey, Cam, are you already home?"

He mutters hmm.

"Can I bring you something before I head out?"

I try to listen, but I can't hear the voice from the other line.

Since when did I become so interested in someone's conversation?

"No, no, it's okay. I'll be home soon, okay? I'm still with my boss. We need to talk, Cam, " he says firmly. His feature turns serious.

Who's this Cam?

"Okay, bye." He slips his phone back into his jeans' pocket. "Sorry about that, that's my cousin, Cam."

"Why don't you bring your cousin here?" I suggest.

"She's here earlier, " he says casually.

"She?" I ask in disbelief, almost immediately.

"Yeah, my cousin Camila."

"Camila, " I mutter under my breath.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Seconds later his eyes still on me.

"What? Did you develop a crush on me now, Wright? Anyway, are you gonna be at your shop tomorrow?" He also works at the tattoo shop at day time.

"Do you want a tattoo?"

"No, I want an Apa."

Camila

I don't know why do I feel so sullen all of a sudden. No man gets under my skin no matter how good he looks, but that arrogant prick affects me to the bone that nobody else does.

I can't deny the fact that he's got the look-a playboy persona look-a look that most women fall for-a look that can fool you in just a single glance he throws to you.

He has an athletic figure that doesn't have an ounce of fat other than a perfect ripped body. Well, I have not seen him shirtless, but yesterday, I know if he has muscles underneath his shirt or not. His thick dark blond hair styled in a messy way like he frequently runs his fingers through it, but he's a dick.

Yeah, he said that he has a huge dick.

How could he ask someone like me for a threesome? Do I look like a cheap? He even smirked -a cocky kind of smirk.

I close my laptop back. I just can't even concentrate on searching for a job.

Slumping my body back to my bed dramatically, I hear a soft knock on my door.

"Come in."

Kyland emerges from the door, his piercings, nose, and lip ring sparkles in the dark, then he flicks the light on. He looks exhausted, but he's still managed to smile at me.

"If you'll gonna give me a lecture for going to the club, don't waste your time, " I start, tucking my blanket under my chin.

"I'm not gonna say a thing anymore, Cam. You've been a good girl and a good student. I think it's time for you to enjoy your life. Just know your limit and stay...safe, " Kyland says, releasing a huge breath.

My face heats. "Safe? Jeez, perhaps can you be a little more specific than that. Like stay protected. Use condoms, maybe?"

He's aware that I've never dated other than group dates. My focus is on getting a college degree. Kyland has been there for me since birth. When I turned eighteen, he let me stayed in his apartment for free, he helped me pay my tuition, helped me to buy my car, and he also pays our bills. I can't just disappoint him and his mom. I'm also doing this for myself-for my future.

My mother was an alcoholic and a coke addict and never showed up again after giving birth to me, until today. I never heard anything from her, not that I'm interested in her after abandoning me. I don't even know if she's dead or still alive.

I never knew my parents if Aunt Carissa did not mention bits of information about my birth mom. What I know of is my mother got pregnant with me when she was just started to get a break in Hollywood. She had a one-night stand with the sperm donor, which was my father during their drunken night. When my mother informed him she was pregnant, the sperm donor denied that I'm his.

"I don't want you to take the same path as your mother, Cam, but I know you, and you are way smarter than her, " he says, giving me a concerned look.

"I will never be like her, Kill, " I say defensively. "I'm already adult, but I don't even know how the beer tastes like, so don't worry about me getting drunk."

The study shows that alcoholism is approximately 50% attributable to genetics, so it means those who have a family history of alcoholism have a higher risk of developing a drinking problem.

"You should know that I trust you. Just know your limitations and when to stop. You've been a responsible adult, and it's not that bad to try drinking or at least try new things. Just be careful, okay?" He stands straight, grabbing the doorknob, then stops, "Next time try to wear something decent."

I grab the nearest pillow, throwing it in his direction, but I miss it when he closes the door before the pillow reaches him.

"Are you saying that was slutty?"

"Nah, you'll grab too much attention, unless you want a guy to get into your pants. I'm serious, Camila!" he yells behind the door.

"Blame Bianca!"

***

Kyland barks into a laugher. I caught him glancing at Bianca a few times, but she is my closest friend. Kyland knows not to cross the line, and she knows not to break the girl's code because Kyland is the only brother I consider.

I look down at the wristwatch, Kyland's gift for me when I graduated from college. It's five minutes past four, and still no signs of Bianca and Megan. We planned to meet at this coffee shop even though they're aware I don't drink coffee. I sip my green tea latte which they think it's gross.

My head snaps toward the door when it chimes, indicating an incoming customer. My jaw drops to see who walks in. Of all the coffee shops in this city, why he has to be here? Is this some kind of a twisted joke? A prank maybe?

Closing my mouth, I sit straight, pretending that I don't notice his presence. I pin my eyes on my latte, hoping he won't see me or remember me.

My heart pounds in my chest when a body shadows in front of me-the very same man I hit and wanted to avoid.

Crap! What an awful day?

"Look who's here? If not a girl who marked my face with her clutch." His playful deep masculine voice vibrates my entire body.

"What do you want, Pyke?"

He laughs-his rich voice makes my heart doubles the already frantic heartbeat.

He drags an empty chair causing it to screech against the dark tiled-floor. That chair is supposed to be for my friends who have not yet arrived. How convenient? Now he takes a seat in front of me, takes off his aviator glasses, and hooks it in front of his pink plaid shirt.

Pink? Wow! But he nailed it.

Holy crap! Did I just give him a compliment?

"Starting a conversation. So, how do you know my name?" he asks, smirking-a smirk that makes every woman drool. But not to me. That's a disgusting move to impress a lady.

I want to roll my eyes, but if I do, he can sense that his charm affects me.

"Who will not? When that woman just screamed your name at the top of her lungs." I wrinkle my nose in disgust.

He chuckles, "You're cute."

Did he just say I'm cute? I look at him, and that's my mistake-our gazes meet.

God! He looks so damn good closer. No wonder women agree even for a quickie. His eyes are a mix of gray and blue. They're gorgeous. I've never seen this kind of eye color before. His red lips curve into a smile. Of course, he catches me checking him out.

Shooting him a glare, I ask, "Don't you wanna buy a coffee? Or are you waiting for a girl to pick up here?"

He cocks his dark brow. "Will you come with me?"

My mouth hangs open. If I didn't witness what he did to that woman, I might take his offer. Might. He's a drop-dead gorgeous, panty-melter, flirty, and confident.

He's bad news, Camila! Keep that in your mind. For sure, he will just break my heart.

I blink in disbelief. "Oh, my god! You're unbelievable! Please leave me alone while I can still hold my anger against you."

"What are you gonna do, babe? Hit me? Scream for help? Perform Kung Fu tricks?" he teases, waggling his brows.

I can't fight with this man. The more I talk, the more he gets on my nerves. I sigh helplessly, slumping my back against my chair. My breathing turns heavy, trying to control the boiling of my blood in my veins.

His eyes pin to my slightly exposed cleavage.

Crap! I should probably change my wardrobe. Like I have money to do so. I should start listening to Kill's advice.

Perv! I curse under my breath.

"Look, Pyke, " I pause, trying to compose what I am about to say in my foggy brain, "If you think you can take me for a quickie, you're wrong. I'm not the type of woman that you can shower with your flowery words then will go with you for a drink and will end up at the back seat of your car as we bang each other. I'm more of a relationship type who goes for a long-term, plans for the future, get engaged, builds a white picket fence, and finally starts a family."

"What about you? I don't think you've ever dated a woman that lasted a week. When a woman gets clingy with just a one-night stand or one-time banging, you will wonder why is it a woman can't be contented and just enjoy and have fun with just sex without ending a commitment? I understand that."

He just looks at me, mouth hangs open-not even a single blink.

"Pyke, for a man as a god-looking guy and attractive with a healthy inflatable ego like you, this city has a lot to offer. For you, it's like going to a shopping mall, carrying a black card who can choose any woman you want. You can even put weekday tags on their neck. But please don't count me in your shopping list." I take a deep breath, and it feels strangely good to voice out my anger.

He looks shocked but looks amused at the same time. He then clears his throat. "Well, on behalf of the male population, let me be the first one to apologize for whatever that asshole did to my dear hot vixen."

My eyes narrow. I just had my long speech, and yet he's still here and being sarcastic. And flirty. And doesn't budge.

I take another deep breath to shake off for another speech forming in my head. It doesn't scare him a bit.

"So, let's start over?" he suggests. A smile curves up his lips, and it looks genuine this time.

"No, " I say flatly.

His brows furrow, clearly, not used to rejection. "Why? Do you have a boyfriend?" He sounds utterly disappointed.

"I don't have a boyfriend. It's a no-a flat-out no."

"You don't have a boyfriend, are you a gay?" he asks with a more confused look.

"I'm not. It's just...you're not my type!"