Sheshould be illegal. It’s unnatural for a woman to exude such raw magnetism.
Just as it’s unnatural for a man like me to get so hung up on a woman. A woman who’s supposed to be nothing more than a means to an end, a tool in my hands.
It’s appalling, this primitive want, the feral need to hear her moans and see her come undone beneath me.
I only want her because I can’t let myself have her.
The forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.
I shake off the moment, moving my eyes back to her diary.Thisis why I’m here. I need answers, not a boner.
Too little, too late.
My boots barely make a sound on the carpet as I snatch the diary and lock myself in the en suite.
Nothing new... not one fucking sentence.
I exit the bathroom, place the diary back where it belongs and pause for a split second, checking it looks untouched.
I’m almost at the door, almost grabbing the handle when a sharp gasp pierces the air.
An invisible frost breathes across my neck.
Cold hands squeeze my throat, touting a sense of imminent danger.
Fuck! Busted.
I don’t have a single explanation for why I’m here in the middle of the night. My only line of defense is to lie. But, angling my head as I slowly turn toward her, I find she’s still facing away.
The tightness in my chest unravels thread by thread as I soundlessly plaster myself against the wall, hiding in the darkness.
Relief doesn’t last long.
Hailey’s breathing grows loud, erratic, punctuated by agonized, distressed whimpers.
I think she’s having a nightmare, but... she doesn’t sound asleep. More like she’s having a panic attack.
My brows furrow. I saw her panic when she bolted out of my car. She was hysterical. She ran, waved her hands, scratched my face, and cried. There’s none of that now.
She’s still as a statue while the sounds she’s making grow more and more sinister. My pulse whooshes in my ears. An anxious, confused edge seizes my thoughts.
What the fuck?
Her whimpers fill the room, chilling me to the bone. They’re not loud but muffled like she can’t open her mouth. Like she’s gagged. Her shoulders barely move even though I can hear she’s pulling down gallons of air.
This isn’t right.
It’s not natural.
She’s frantic, trapped, desperate, and...motionless.
My blood chills, thickens and, soon enough, my veins flow with cherry slurpy. Every fiber in me wants to touch her, grab her, mold her into me and calm her down but rational thinking chains me in place.
If she sees me, I’ll blow my cover. She’ll tell Vaughn about the creep who broke into her bedroom and he’ll take her away first thing in the morning.
I can’t afford to lose her...
The more distressed Hailey sounds, the harder it gets to stand my ground. Her fear’s almost corporeal, substantiating in the air.
