Page 62 of When Darkness Calls

Each time I see him he grows bolder. The first night I saw his silhouette he hid in the trees. Just a figure, a statue, in the night. Now, he’s fifty yards outside my window, standing out in the open.

I wonder if he’ll ever speak to me again. Not just those hurried commands from the fest, rushed, low from his restrained anger. I can barely remember his voice through my panicked emotions. Would it be deep, or melodic? Smooth or rough?

Looking at him, excitement, heat, and desire filtering through my system in waves, I know I have to find out. He isn’t the only one with an obsession it seems.

I smirk at him, unfolding my arms. In the reflection of the window, I see the pink of my complexion emit a warm glow on my face. My eyes shine. My nipples are hard. Goosebumps raised on my arms. I look turned on. I am turned on. Arousal floods my blood stream. My panties are wet. An ache settles my core.

I stand from my desk, hook my thumbs in the waist of my pants, and turn my back to him. With a slow push, the pants are over the roll of my stomach, the swell of my hips, and the curve of my ass. I bend at the waist as they fall over the thick pillowed flesh of my thighs, the dent of my knees, and pool at my ankles. My ass is completely on display. My excitement climbs higher, the ache between my legs grows stronger. I know my panties are soaked. I could guarantee there’s a wet patch right at the gusset covering my opening. A tease. A taste.

If he won’t speak to me willingly, I bet he can be persuaded. Weakened.

Staying hinged at my hips, I grab a pen from the cup and a sticky notepad. As I write, trying to focus on keeping a steady hand, my loopy writing filling the note, my hips sway. Legs parted for a better stance, in a slow methodical roll, left to right, my ass rocks, taunts, in the air, right in front of the window, right in front of him. There is definitely a wet spot on my panties. No question about it anymore.

This is what it must feel like to free fall. It’s liberating. Empowering. I feel seen. Not just a body men want to use and then ignore or degrade. Not just being a “nice ass and great tits if it weren’t for the stomach rolls and dimpled thighs”. I look over my shoulder and see him still standing at the tree. His arms are no longer crossed, but I can see his fingers curled into fists at his side. His head is tilted straight up, mask raised to the heavens, almost like in prayer. A man in worship for his obsession.

Fuck, yes. I am your God.

I straighten from my desk, rip the note from the pad, and slowly close the gap between me and the balcony door. Each step rolls my tank top higher on my waist. The lace of my underwear kissing the space just below my belly button. This isn’t close to a walk. It’s a prowl—all sensuous movement, soft flesh, jiggling thighs, swayed hips, bouncing tits. A prowl of a predator, not prey. I want to be the mouse trapped beneath his claws, but he won’t pounce. Until then, I suppose I can play as the sheep in wolf’s clothing. Prey disguised as the predator.

Once I’m standing right behind the glass, I step closer, pressing my overheated skin against the glass, pushing the door open wide enough to place the note on the outside. He never looks away.

Quickly I close it, watching him intently. With a deep inhale, and nervous swallow, I press my lips to the glass, and step back to see the pinkish smudged print left by my chapstick. And as the note stays in place to the left, even with the slight breeze tonight, I smile wide.

A last glance his way, I can almost make out a slight shake of his body. His hands are still tight fists at his sides, back ramrod straight, gaze unwavering. I step away from the glass, my hand on the light. My smile shifts into a smirk, and my room falls into an eerie darkness.

nineteen

Grayson

God. I am so fucking screwed.

twenty

Dani

In the early Saturday morning light, I want to say I’m embarrassed by what I did, but I can’t do it.

Liz was right.

It was possibly the single most exhilarating experience of my life, and it is only just the beginning of what I hope to be a whirlwind of encounters.

Arms raised high, I stretch the fatigue from my limbs. My tank top is lopsided, and my panties are so far up my ass I can taste the fabric, but I’ve never slept so well. All tension has ebbed from my body.

I climb out of bed and grab the pants lying on the floor. I blush and smile.

There was so much power in accepting and controlling my sexuality. I left the cards on the table. It was his move now. I just hope it won’t take him long to make his decision. Looking out the window, my note was gone.

At least he read it.

A yawn forces itself from my body as my feet pad over to my desk. Liz texted me when she got home. I replied and asked her if she was sure there wasn’t anything else she wanted tonight for our impromptu girl’s night. A few texts from Cade, which I responded to with a request for the snacks for tonight. One from a group project in seminar. The last one was new.

Unknown

My heartbeat spikes. With a shaky hand, I click on the message.

Unknown

Do you enjoy making me suffer?