Page 6 of Devious Obsession
“Force,” she whispers.
Oh?
I take her hand and pull her up the stairs. There are people in the living room and on the second floor. The furniture in the bedrooms above us is thumping. The whole house will smell like sex by morning. We go outside, where we can see the lake. It’s a calm night. Perfect for a midnight romp…
“I need more information, sweetheart,” I say in a low voice, backing her into the railing. I cage her in. “Tell me what you want.”
She swallows and stares at my chest. “I keep having these dreams…”
I wait.
“I want to feel like I’m out of control. Afraid.”
Fuck.
This girl is going to kill me.
I shift and twirl a lock of her dark hair around my finger. “You want me to make you submit?”
She closes her eyes.
And nods.
I’m not going to lie. Her words are Christmas morning and my birthday and winning the fucking national hockey tournament all wrapped up in one. If only I could fulfill her wish to the extreme—but I can’t. The mere fact that she’s told me tonight, and that she already knows the taste of me, ruins it for her.
“I’m going to give you a two-minute head start,” I say softly, still pinching her hair in my fingers. “And then I’m going to hunt you down. You’ll knowI’mcoming. When I catch you, you fight me. Do your worst. And I suppose you should pick a safe word…”
I pause and wait for her to fill in the blank.
“Fire,” she says.
I draw back and stare down at her again, then take a step away. Her chest is heaving, her hands gripping the railing behind her. She’s gorgeous like this. Anxious, captivated.
She’ll look better when she’smycaptive.
“What are you waiting for?” I bark, my voice suddenly loud and cruel. “Run.”
ASPEN
My heartbeat thunders in my ears.
My mouth is suddenly dry with my confession, and I fight the urge to cringe away from him. Because all my life, I’ve been told—urged—to be normal. To be the good girl, the straight-A student. To go along with the flow, to coast under the radar. To listen to my superiors, to those in power, even when they might be wrong.
And I never protested.
Never once rebelled.
But then my stranger’s face changes, excitement lighting his dark eyes. His lips twist in a way that sends shivers racing up my spine, the mirth falling away from his expression.
I really need to stop calling himmy stranger.
But then he tells me to run in a cold voice, and every part of me comes alive. I didn’t even tell him all of the twisted depravities running through my head. Part of me wanted to, though. I have recurring dreams where I wake up from a sound sleep and someone’s on top of me. Pulling my shorts down. Sometimes there’s a gag in my mouth, sometimes it’s my hands that are tied.
It always ends too soon, my heart pounding out of my chest and seeming to echo in my ears. And then I’m left to try and calm down enough to get back to sleep.
I release the banister and inch to the side.
Two-minute head start. I glance around, considering going back inside. Every horror movie ever made steers me away from that decision, though.
