The other two girls had given him a taste of what he wanted. They had a similar look to Brooke, but this one…she could be Brooke’s sister. She had the same long dark hair and green eyes. And that mouth. The perfect balance between a full bottom lip and bowed upper.
His heart hammered in his chest as she drew closer, her gait unsteady thanks to the three drinks she usually had when she met her friends at the bar and grill across from campus. Like the other two, he’d picked her because she liked to get plastered and walk home alone.
Stupid girl.
Lucky me.
Brooke would never be that dumb.
She was perfect in every way.
And soon, he’d be her perfect lover.
He just needed some practice.
The second the girl walked past, he rushed her, bashing her on the head with the knife handle. She fell hard to the ground, her palms sliding on the pavement. She screamed, so he hit her again. Hard. Her cheek smacked the pavement and her limbs went limp.
“Gotcha.”
He moved fast, hoping no one spotted him dragging her into the bushes. He’d chosen this spot well. Staked it out for days. Watched his pretty target walk this way a few times a week for the past three weeks between eight and nine.
She’d walked right into his trap.
The first two drunk girls he’d let go after some heavy petting and kissing. He’d gotten pretty good at that now, though the girls weren’t as cooperative as he’d hoped.
Brooke wouldn’t act like she didn’t enjoy it.
She wanted him.
She loved the gifts he sent her. She knew he was watching over her, making sure she had everything her heart desired. Like the bracelet she saw when she stopped outside the jewelry store window and stared at. He knew she wanted it, so he ordered it using a stolen credit card and had it delivered to her.
He’d wanted to leave them at her door, but then he risked Brooke discovering his identity too soon.
Those first two girls complained about him to campus security. Like they didn’t want his hands all over them, just like the guys in the bar had done while they drank and danced, showing off their bodies in their skimpy outfits. They couldn’t ID him, and even if they could, they’d been drunk off their asses, eyes blurry, minds foggy.
College girls. Not too smart.
Like the one he dragged into the concealed nook in the bushes now. He dropped her upper body. Her head thumped on the ground and fell sideways. The scrapes on her cheek bled. He didn’t like that, but he’d work with the inferior girl, knowing it would get him what he really wanted.
Brooke. His perfect, beautiful soulmate.
He cut the strap on her purse and tossed it aside. Thanks to the warmer spring temps, she only wore a simple white T-shirt, which he slit up the middle, exposing her pink and black polka dot bra. Her breasts swelled over the edge. Smaller than Brooke, but she’d do for his training purposes.
He closed his eyes, thought of Brooke, the nights he wanted to share with her, and sank down on top of the girl, straddling her hips. He molded his hands to her breasts and squeezed the soft mounds. His need for her grew until he couldn’t control himself and he grabbed her hard into his hands.
She moaned, driving him on.
He wanted her so bad, his dick pressed hard against his fly. He used one hand on her breast and the other on his dick, rubbing both, feeling the softness of her and the contrasting hardness in him.
That’s what he wanted. Brooke’s soft beauty to balance the darkness inside him.
“Please…”
“That’s right. Beg for it. You want me.” He undid his pants, freed his aching flesh, and pushed up her skirt.
“Don’t do this.”
He pressed the knife to her throat.
