Page 20 of Twisted Devil

Studying my reflection, I drew in a deep breath then let it out, slow and steady. I felt a tingle running through my veins, butterflies kicking into flight in my stomach. It had been so long since I’d felt like this. Nervous, but excited at the same time. In a way, it was different even than last week.

After our date, things had gotten a little out of control. Not that he seemed to mind. When Jason left, it seemed as if he had to force himself to put one foot in front of the other as he made his way out of my apartment. He wanted me, and I wanted him more than anything. What I had said the other night was true. I was tired of being the victim, tired of feeling repressed. For the first time in a year, I felt like my old self.

I'd never been the type to actively pursue a man, but neither had I downplayed my reaction when I was attracted to someone. This thing between Jason and me was more intense than anything I'd experienced in the past. It was scary but exhilarating at the same time. Mostly exhilarating. There was just something about him that made my brain and body go absolutely haywire.

That kiss… I'd never felt anything like it before. I felt an undefinable connection to him. He understood me in a way that none of my friends did, not even my family. They had all pushed me to forget what had happened and move on. And I’d tried. For the first couple of months after the attack, I resisted going out in public. When I went out now, I constantly kept an eye on my surroundings. I didn't like anyone to get too close to me, which had made dating hard.

Ironically, I didn't have the same reservations about Jason. He understood me. He didn't try to push me or tell me how I should feel. Instead, he listened and validated my concerns. I couldn't tell if that was just because he was trained for these kinds of situations, or if he truly cared about me. The way he’d kissed me last week told me it was the latter.

My heart stuttered rapidly in my chest as I replayed the events of our previous date. I was both disappointed and relieved that we hadn't gone any further. At the time, I'd wanted to. Part of me still did. But the other part of me was scared. Everyone told me how lucky I was that I hadn't been raped or killed like the other girls. But I didn't feel lucky. I still remembered it so vividly sometimes that it felt like just yesterday. I would close my eyes sometimes and see him, smell him... It was almost suffocating.

Being with Jason was like a weight had lifted off my shoulders. I didn't have to pretend with him, didn't have to put on a brave face. He'd held me, kissed me, and for the first time in months I felt like I could finally breathe. What was more, almost unbelievably, he seemed to like me. He was attracted to me, but there was something else too. His words floated back to me. Once I make you mine, Chloe... I won't let you go.

His voice had vibrated with promise, and I believed him. He wanted me, and I wanted him. The only thing standing in the way were my memories.

I hit the buzzer to admit Jason, then shook out my hands nervously. Less than two minutes later, there was a knock at the door. I checked the peephole, and my heart lurched in my chest when I saw Jason's handsome profile on the other side. I unlocked the deadbolts, then threw the door open wide. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.”

A sexy smirk tilted his lips as he stepped inside, and I focused my attention on closing and re-latching all the locks before turning to him. Those dark eyes studied me for several seconds before he stepped close, eliminating the distance between us. One huge hand moved to the back of my neck and he dipped his head and brushed his lips over mine.

He pulled back a fraction. “I've been waiting all week to do that.”

My worries melted away as heat filled my cheeks and a warm rush of pleasure spread through my chest. “I’ve been waiting all week for that, too.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

JASON

I studied Chloe across the table, watching her stiff movements as she gathered up the silverware and stacked it on her plate. Over dinner I’d caught an occasional glimpse of the old Chloe, but she seemed… stressed. Something was off, though I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was.

When she carried our dishes to the sink, I followed and leaned against the counter next to her. “You okay?”

“Yep.”

Her tone was full of forced cheer, and I placed one hand on her arm, stilling her movements. I waited until her gaze met mine before speaking. “You sure?”

She dropped her eyes back to the sink and blew out a little breath. “You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“Never.” I lightly grasped her chin, then turned her to face me. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I keep thinking about last week. About…”

Her gaze skittered over my shoulder toward the couch, and suddenly it all made sense. She was thinking about what had transpired between us sexually. Had it been too much, too soon? “Did you enjoy it?”

She licked her lips. “I did. I…” She hesitated, looking defeated. “I feel stupid even saying this.”

I shook my head. “Don’t ever feel bad telling me what you want.”

“That’s just it. I want… more.” The word came out on a whisper. “I know I should just let it happen naturally, but I feel better talking about it, you know?”

Her expression was heartbreakingly vulnerable, and I gently tugged her into my arms. I couldn’t begin to imagine the courage it’d taken to admit that. “I know exactly what you mean.”

I took her hand and pulled her toward the bedroom. “Come with me.”

She followed along quietly until we’d reached her bed. “You need to stop, just say the word.”

I slid my hands over the curve of her hips, loving the way she felt, the way she clung to me. I knew how deeply rooted her fears and insecurities ran, and to see her willing to give herself over to me meant the world. It filled me with pride. Possessiveness. Obsessiveness, because I knew I would never get enough of her.

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