Page 33 of Savage Lover

“I’m just concerned.”

“Concerned about me becoming a liability?” She rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna ask you to chase me through the dark house wearing a Jason mask or anything.”

I narrow my eyes at her but say nothing.

She balks. “Please tell me you know who Jason is.”

“I understand it’s some kind of pop-culture reference, but?—”

“Oh my god.” She turns sharply away from me to face the television. “Television, play Friday the Thirteenth.”

I can’t make myself turn away from her to face the screen. “I need you to know that you are never in danger with me.”

Her head whips toward me. “I know.”

“If you’re scared, I need you to tell me.”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean, no. My emotions are my own business. I like the little games we play, and if I decide to let them go far enough that I get a little scared of what’s going to happen next, that’s my own business.”

“That is definitely my business as well.”

“Well, I guess you better type up that liability waiver.”

“We won’t be needing it.”

“That’s that, huh? You’re just gonna walk away because I was honest? Oh, that’s right, you prefer it when I lie, don’t you? Okay, sorry. Oh wait—don’t apologize Victoria, it makes you look weak. Okay, not sorry. Anyway, I was just joking. I’m never scared at all when we’re together. When you grab my skull and fuck my throat like a madman, I feel like I’m skipping through a field of wildflowers. That’s what all girls think when you do that.”

“Cheeky little thing, aren’t you?”

She shrugs.

“Okay, fine. You’re right. You’re allowed to feel scared if you want to. And I’m not going to lie, the idea of scaring you is not completely repulsive to me.”

Her eyes narrow. “Oh, now we’re getting somewhere.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know if I want to go to that place.”

“Why not? It could be so fun.”

The combination of blood rushing to my groin and dread building in my stomach starts to make me feel a little bit crazy. “Let’s just watch the movie.”

“Of course,” she says. “It’s just movie night.”

I make a mental note to draw up a liability waiver.

For all her big talk, Victoria isn’t even awake long enough to see the first blonde-haired, big-bosomed woman get macheted to ribbons by the man in a hockey mask.

I, however, can’t take my eyes off the screen.

During the first movie, all my attention was on Victoria, transfixed watching her reactions to the gore and violence on the screen.

But now, with her sleeping peacefully in my lap, I’m able to let myself experience the film.

And it’s fucking glorious.

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