Page 20 of Falling for a Killer

Almost.

Taking over with the cart, I uphold my end of the bargain by getting what we need and smiling at him every time someone gets too close. It feels ridiculous, but truthfully, no one is paying attention to us now that he stopped treating me like a flight risk.

I notice his eyes on me every time someone walks down the aisle with us, again making me wonder if he’s worried someone will recognize the blue or if he’s holding himself back from claiming me right here, but the longer it goes on the more I start to believe it’s both. “I really like those leggings you’re wearing.”

The urge to say something sassy wells up inside of me, but I made a deal. “Do you?” I ask, tossing some potatoes in the cart.There’s a man not far from us giving us the side-eye, so I add, “They’ll look better on the floor, babe. Think you can keep your hands off me until we get home?”

“No promises,” he says with a grin, but it fades when he notices he isn’t the only one eying my leggings.

Immediately he tenses, his hand flying out to grip my hip tightly as he tosses the guy a bro nod, the possession blatant.

Again, weird and endearing all at once. It’s a struggle to keep him on task after that — especially once we realize we need a second cart — but we get there.

Checkout is terrible and the walk to the car is even worse, but once everything is loaded, I turn to him.

“See? We made it.”

“Mmhm.” He looks around a little paranoid before releasing a breath. “Yeah. Yeah, we made it. You okay?”

Externally? Yeah, I’m fine. Internally, though... not so much. My stomach is twisting, begging me to kiss him again, hold his hand one more time, hug him, do anything to get just a little more contact with the most attractive man I’ve ever seen before we get in the car. Once we’re in, the deal’s over. I don’t have to pretend anymore. I won’t have an excuse unless I take the ban off the table altogether, and I can’t shake the fear that it’ll end terribly for me if I do. Heisstill my captor. Hecoulddecide to kill me at any point, for any reason. He has the means and the opportunity, he just needs the motive.

“I’m fine,” I say finally. “Let’s head back.”

Ten:

Sleepwalking

Killian

I’m at a point where I don’t know how to express what I feel inside with words. I don’t understand how she can turn her emotions off so suddenly like they’re connected to a light switch, but she pulls it off without a hitch every single time.

When we got home from the store a few days ago, she was immediately back to being as distant as she was before, as if that blowjob never happened. And even more than that, like she didn’t buy me hella shit just to keep me comfortable. Getting my dick sucked is nice, I’ll never say otherwise, but what killed me more about all of it is the way she casually bought me things like she had no intention of asking me to reimburse her. She ensured I got a better pillow, waving a hand at me when I told her they had cheaper ones, and the navy sheets she picked out are more comfortable than anything I’ve ever owned. She even offered to get me a new lamp, but I passed on anything unnecessary because the room already had one. I don’t care if it’s pink. It was sweet of her to want to give me things of my own, but in all honesty I felt guilty accepting the few things I did.

I’m keeping her hostage here. I don’t deserve her kindness, and the fact that she wants to give it anyway is fucking me up. I guess it helps that she has the ability to be so cold sometimes, but even then I just want to be the one that warms her up. I’m starting to understand what she meant the longer we stay here though, because with each day that passes, I find myself obsessing over her more and more. How long do I have before that obsession turns into love? And if it does... what the fuck do I do? It’s not healthy, that’s for sure, but regardless of all thereasons I shouldn’t let myself want her, I can’t lie and say that I don’t.

I want her.

And it’s enough to keep me awake at night.

I check the time and sigh when I see it’s three in the morning. I want to go grab her and bring her in here, to show her how comfortable the bedding is that she got me, and then fuck her until we fall asleep tangled together, but I know that won’t happen. She’ll wake up the second I lift her from her bed and then tell me no, and then I’ll have to feel that familiar pang of rejection once again. I know it’s what I deserve, but I’m a starved man that’s desperate for any scraps this woman will give me, so on the off chance that she might be feeling anything near what I am I get out of bed and sneak my way into her room.

When I realize she’s sleeping in my old community college t-shirt, my entire body tenses. She looks so fucking beautiful I have to rub the knot out of my chest as I stare down at her. Cherry red hair is sprawled out along her silk pillow, the hunter green comforter bundled up around her thighs so I can see the skin below her navel and the fact that all she’s wearing underneath it is a pair of booty short panties.

Fucking hell, I want to eat her pussy so bad. I’m already addicted to the smell of her, and right before I decide to go for it and climb into her bed, I glance back up at her face and find her looking directly at me.

Oh shit. Guess we’ll see how she really feels now. No way she lies to me under the moonlight. Only witches have that power, and like I said before, this woman is a goddess.

“Sleepwalking, Killian?”

Will you deny me if I say no?

“Yes,” I whisper, taking the smallest step toward her so she knows I don’t want to leave.

Her eyes are dark, cloudy almost as she studies me. “And what do you want?”

“I want in.”

In your bed, in your head, inside of you.

---