Page 136 of Texting Dr. Stalker

I blushed. “Well, yes that too. But I meant…” I couldn’t look at him. I focused on the toothy snarl of the skull. “No one has ever gone down on me.”

His eyebrows shot up, his piercing twinkling silver in the lowlight. “You’re kidding me.”

My cheeks went into full blush.

“How…how is that possible?” he whisper-growled. “Fuck, if you were mine, I’d dine on you every night.”

My gaze snapped to his. Prickly heat crackled over my skin.

Cupping my cheek with his free hand, he ran his thumb over my bottom lip. His gaze transfixed on my mouth. “Your taste is…” He glanced at the chocolate cake with an erotic huff. “A thousand times better than the sweetest dessert. You taste like the flowers you’re always cooking—like the best kind of nectar.” He chuckle-snarled. “To know I’m the only one who’s sampled you in that way? To know no one else has licked you, tasted your cum, or heard you cry out in ecstasy is averybad thing for me.”

“W-Why?” I swallowed hard. “Why is it bad?”

“Because that stupid crush I have on you is blowing completely out of control.”

He successfully set my heart on fire.

Groaning, he tipped his head back as if exhausted by the thick, sexual tension arching between us. “You have no idea how hard this is for me.”

“I think I probably have some idea how hard you are.” I forced myself to grin. “Probably about how wet I—”

“Fucking hell.” He squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head. “You can’t say things like that.”

“Why?”

“Because it makes me want to keep you, and…I can’t.”

I froze solid, hovering over him. “Who says you can’t?”

What am I saying?

His forehead furrowed. He ignored my question with a snarl. “I thought I could do this, but I’m so far out of my depth, I’m drowning.” He laughed coldly. “And you know what the worst part is? I know I should get up right now and walk out that door, but all I can think about is how you invited me here for cake yet all I want to eat isyou.”

My stomach flipped. I tried to pull his mask again. “I can be on the menu.”

Wow, who are you right now?

His chin tipped down, his eyes blazing a hellish black.

My fingers clung to the bottom of his mask, refusing to let go even as his hand tightened around my wrist.

“You wouldn’t offer if you knew who I truly am.”

I shivered. “Then tell me who you are, and I’ll be the judge.”

His eyes flickered over mine, searching me as deeply as Zander did this morning when I asked to go on his bike. “Not tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m feeling super fucking selfish and don’t want to leave. And once I tell you, you won’t want anything to do with me, and the thought of going back to an empty house without you kills me.”

Both of us stopped breathing.

He tried to push me off him with a groan. “What am I saying? Jesus, just ignore me. I have no idea what I’m doing anymore.” He forced a laugh. “I’m overtired. Overworked. Mentally insane. Take your pick. You’re obviously doing better. You don’t need me anymore. I’m gonna go and—”

“X.” Shoving him back down with my palm on his chest, I searched his gaze. I recognised the telltale signs of panic. I’d felt them myself so often the past month. The fact that he suffered too—that my masked guardian who’d given everything and asked for nothing—felt the same out of control anxiety I did made me feel so ashamed.

“Let me go.” He squirmed to get free but didn’t manhandle me, careful even now not to use physical force against me. “Lori—”

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