Page 18 of Meating Dalton

Crazy fucker. Why me? Is there a target on the Bell women, the universe screaming at the psychos, “take them!”. I’d be angry if I wasn’t so damn terrified of the blonde killer. And why in God’s name did he make the crazy fucker handsome? Ted Bundy wasn’t enough? You just had to make two attractive serial killers.

And that devil is definitely a repeat offender. There’s no way one kill would cool the maniacal flame in his eyes. A look he’d managed to suppress the three times we ran into each other before he took me. My skin itches, remembering his touch. It wants to peel off, still reeling.

I just—My hands stop, shoulders hunching, and a shudder runs through me. I just have to survive. Give him whatever he wants so I can make it out of here in one piece. Willing myself to look at Jason, I pray the psycho doesn’t carry me out in pieces.

The floor gleams with only a mild pinkish tint. Getting all the blood out is an impossibility and not for the first time, I wonder if he’s wanting me to fail.

He took my damn laptop. I swipe at tears drying on my cheeks. I can only hope he’ll leave Sarah and Lauren alone. Maybe those crazy fuckers they’re involved with will actually come in handy. I can film it for YouTube, three killers facing off. Shaking my head, I admit my sanity might be fraying a little.

The door creaks open and I jump to my feet, heart banging against my ribs. Please, don’t kill me, I internally beg. He saunters in, smile in place, blue eyes brightening with satisfaction as he looks left and right. A whistle leaves his lips.

“Well done, little flower. You deserve a treat. But I’m hungry so we can move to task number two.” His hands rub together, for all the world looking like a caricature villain.

I wish I knew a good shrink cause he’s in dire need of one. My eyes drift down his body against my better judgment, noting he’d changed from faded denim and a plain white shirt into black jeans and a black button down. The color contrast suits his pale skin. He should’ve left the killing for someone else and taken up acting.

“Well, my flower?” He turns, smile dropping when he notices Jason’s sprawled corpse.

“I was getting to it. He’s heavy!” I explain hurriedly, fear spiking through me, sharp as nails. He shrugs, momentarily appearing unbothered. He crooks a finger at me and my heart sinks. What the fuck now?

LADIES FIRST

DALTON

Red truly is her color, blood staining nearly every inch of skin. My girl got her hands dirty, cleaning up my playroom.

My girl? The fuck? She’s not mine. She’s meat. End of story.

I crook my finger again impatiently, ready for this next test to begin. Let’s see how she likes a medium rare burger, if she’s capable of cooking one. I might have to marry her if she is. Oh no, if only I had someone to be my best man. I must’ve been too much for my adoptive parents to handle. They didn’t adopt another kid. Or maybe it was the dead dogs turning up in the neighborhood that sent fear curdling their stomach?

Natalia walks over slowly, eyes bouncing everywhere but on me. Oddly, I liked her earlier perusal, eyes drifting up and down my body. Did she like it? Cocking my head, I wonder, do I want her to? I know I liked my hands on her and her lips pressed to mine.

“How did I do?” There’s a slight waver in her voice, but her chin lifts, showing a hint of a backbone. My lips lift into a smile. I always liked fireworks.

“Fantastic. Let’s move this party upstairs. Task two is going to be delicious, if you play your cards right.” My head jerks toward the exit and she approaches cautiously, reminding me of a skittish rabbit. One wrong move and they’ll bolt. I don’t move out of her way, wanting her body to brush me on the way out. It’s almost comical, the way she leans nearly to the opposite side of the narrow doorway to avoid touching me.

I don’t give her a break, walking tight on her heels after locking the bottom door of the basement after us. Her neck swivels back and forth constantly, likely not wanting me out of sight for long. Aw, I’m touched.

My smile dips with my eyes. Round ass cheeks lift and fall with each step up the stairs, mesmerizing me, saliva pooling in my mouth. Why have I never noticed a woman’s ass before her?

Because they’re meat.

Meat. Meat. Meat. Meat.

I want to bite one of them. I wonder if it’s like a jelly filled donut, all creamy goodness inside. If I bite hard enough, will she gush for me? Fuck! Now, I’m thinking about other places she probably gushes from. Sonofabitch. She needs to die. Like yesterday.

“Hey!” My eyes snap from the roundest ass I’ve ever seen into exasperated brown eyes, a cute little flush staining her cheeks. I just know she tastes better than a burger, at least.

“Eyes up here, perv,” she snaps and I laugh, enjoying her spirit. Good. I hated the tears anyway.

“Oh, I know where your eyes are, little flower. Watch your step. If you’re too busy watching me, you’ll break an ankle.” Right on cue, she stumbles on the next step and I’m bouncing up two steps to wrap both arms around her, pulling her in tight to my body.

Holy fuck. She feels good. All soft curves and those plump cheeks I was admiring rest right against my cock.

“You can let me go,” she squeaks, body held stiff. I wonder if she feels Junior waking up. Shaking my head, I loosen my hold, letting her regain her balance, before I do something stupid, like ask to taste her where she gushes. She scurries up the next few steps without once looking back, leaving me behind to stare after her.

If I don’t kill her soon, I’m so fucked. Maybe I’ve been fucked since I tasted her mouth last week.

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