Page 135 of Bake the Town Red

“That’s why you’re out here?” I whisper at the pack of strays Dahlia’s responsible for. “You’ve been protecting my woman in case she gets in trouble?”

The five of them surround me. Their damp noses sniff my jeans for food, their eyes demanding that I give them something. I’m kind of mad at myself for forgetting them this evening.

Only I didn’t forget. They haven’t asked for food the last few times.

They won’t go hungry for long.

“Sorry, guys.” I rub each of them behind their ears, which seems to satisfy them. “Dahlia will be out soon. You’ll get your dinner then, promise.”

The door next to me bursts open. My heart slams against my ribs and I whip my head to look at her.

Dahlia stands in the doorway, her hair high up in a bun, her dress sitting perfectly on her body. There’s not a drop of blood on her face.

She’s perfect. She’s here and, fuck, I love her.

Her red smile widens when I don’t say anything. “Hey, handsome.”

“Hey, beautiful.” I start for her—me and the dogs—and stop.

She’s holding a silver bowl in her hands. The biggest one I’ve ever seen.

Wrong. I have seen this bowl.

“Is this him?”

“It’s dinner.” Her fangs are white against the red lipstick she reapplied inside.

So this is what I’ve been missing out on.

The dogs growl, shoving Dahlia with their noses. She places the bowl on the ground and steps back. The dogs fight each other over it, each of them grabbing a piece and gobbling them.

“You’ve been feeding them human skin?” I move in on her. One hand cups her cheek and tilts her head up. The other skims low to feel the chastity belt. To cup her. “That’s how you made them disappear?”

“The skin, yes.” She grips the front of my hoodie. “The bones are in a freezer in the basement. I feed it to them in small portions over the rest of the year.”

“Little savage.” After shoving her chastity belt to her cunt, I raise my hand to hers, forcing her palm to my dick. Pressing my forehead to hers. “I just came all over my hand watchingyou. And look what you’re doing to me. How hard I am for you. I could fuck you through the nig—no, screw that—through the whole goddamn year. Still wouldn’t be enough. Fuck, I want you. Fuck, I need you. I don’t know how I survived without you. I never will again. And now this belt. Motherfucker. I need this cunt. Need to make you come. Your fingers in my hair. Your nails drawing blood. My blood.Fuck.”

Her lips part. An invitation I eagerly accept as I kiss and taste her. I slide an arm around her back and yank her to my front. Haul her up my body, and her legs know what to do. They find their home around my waist. So close my cock presses to her soft belly.

Her arms sling around my neck, and she kisses me back, licks and bites me.

“Tyler.” Her breaths are labored. Words clipped between one desperate kiss and the other. “There’s more.”

“The flesh.” My fingers dive deeper into her hair, making a mess of her neat bun. I shove her into the wall, tilting my head for a better angle. But since it’s important to her, I still ask, “Why are you freeze drying it, baby?”

“Well…”

The hesitation in her voice gives me pause. We stop kissing, doing nothing except staring into each other’s eyes.

“I didn’t give you any,” is what she chooses to start with.

I frown. “Should I be offended?”

“That I didn’t turn you into a cannibal? No.” When she giggles, my heart soars. “I haven’t turned anyone else into one, either. Unless you’re interested. In that case, I can make an exception.”

“Maybe next time.” It’s a joke. Slamming into her body isn’t. Drowning in the depths of the oceans in her eyes is the most serious thing I’ve ever done. “So? What happens to them?”

“Promise not to tell?” she asks. As if the answer isn’t obvious.

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