Page 70 of He Sees You When You’re Sleeping

I watch as Chloe reads my message, her lips curving into a smile. She types back, I haven’t done Christmas in a really long time.

Same.

My house isn’t decorated.

You in a red bow is the only decoration I need.

I’ve never done anything like this, she continues to confess.

Inviting a masked man you nearly fucked at a club to your house is not your norm, you say?I type, smirking as I do.

I see and hear her laugh. I smile, watching her through the camera.

My fingers hover over the keyboard. I want to reassure her, to tell her she has nothing to fear from me. But how can I do that without revealing too much?

I would never hurt you, I type finally. You can trust me.

She’s quiet for a long moment, and I watch her face on the camera, trying to decipher her thoughts. Finally, she responds.

I know. I don’t know why, but I do trust you. This is wild. Borderline insane. If anyone in my life knew I was doing this...

I’m worried that she may start to talk herself out of this, so I type, Until Christmas Eve, I want you to think about what might happen. I want you to imagine my hands on your body, my lips on your skin. But you’re not allowed to touch yourself. Not until Christmas Eve.

I see her squirm in her chair again, clearly affected by my words.

That’s cruel, she types back, but I can almost hear the playful tone in her voice.

Consider it part of your punishment for earlier, I reply. And motivation for good behavior.

And if I’m not good?she asks.

Then maybe Santa will have to leave coal in your stocking instead of me in your bed.

She laughs out loud at that, the sound carrying through my speakers. It’s a magical sound, one that makes my heart soar.

I’ll be good, she promises. The best you’ve ever had.

If only she knew how good she already was, how perfect she is in my eyes. But I can’t tell her that. Not yet.

We’ll see, I type instead. Now, it’s getting late. You should get some sleep.

You’re right, she agrees. Goodnight, WinterWatcher. Sweet dreams.

Goodnight, BlackAsChlo, I reply. Give me your address, and I’ll see you soon.

I watch as she shuts down her computer and gets ready for bed. As she slips under the covers, I lean back in my chair, my mind racing with possibilities.

Christmas Eve can’t come soon enough.

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