Page 19 of Psycho

Igot out of the shower and scrubbed a towel over my hair and beard as I groaned. I was so fucking tired.

It was almost four and pulling off another three hit night with Dane as company was proving to be exhausting. I’d been at it for almost two weeks already and the list was getting shorter. But so were the opportunities to find the targets.

The plan had worked well enough that the remaining seven hits were in hiding. Which was exactly what I wanted.

Because it meant I had some down time coming up. Time to spend with my Storm. Fuck, I missed her. Every day I spent a few hours with her before working on the list, but it was never long enough.

I had never been friends with a woman before. Aside from a couple that I casually fucked; I didn’t want women around me. They couldn’t handle the whole me, just the parts I could lessen to fit their agenda when my hand wasn’t enough to suffice anymore.

But Liv. God, fucking Olivia Everett drove me wild. I wanted to engross myself in every single part of her. The friend part that shared her snacks when she made me watch her stupid movies. Or the weird part that talked about things like morning sickness, trimesters and cravings. My favorite part, though, was the vulnerable one; the one that laid her head on my shoulder on the couch and relaxed into me like it was the only time she could actually loosen the tense muscles in her shoulders. Like it was the only time the clouds cleared from her green eyes, and she was just calm.

Those were my favorite moments.

My cock hardened again for the hundredth time today and I palmed it through my towel, trying to figure out if I had the energy to jack off again before I passed out. I had done it as soon as I walked back into my apartment after spending the entire afternoon with Liv pressed against my side on the couch before I went to work. I’d been so worked up I came in less than thirty strokes.

My cell phone vibrated across the counter as I stood in the middle of my studio apartment contemplating it and I looked at the screen.

Liv.

Fuck.

“Storm, what’s wrong?” I snapped as I answered. She had never called me before, which meant something was wrong.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Her sleepy voice sighed, “I guess I just wanted to know if you were sleeping through the noise.”

“What noise?” I asked, and then an enormous crack of thunder vibrated outside, shaking the entire building. “Oh.”

She chuckled quietly, “I guess you were, I’m sorry for waking you.”

“You didn’t.” I paced as I talked. “I just got home.”

“Oh.” She whispered and I could almost see her lying in her bed holding her phone in the dark talking to me from across the hall. “I shouldn’t have called.”

“My bed or yours?” I asked in reply, already knowing she was going to back pedal and take back every bit of courage it took her to call me in the first place.

“Your—what?”

“Where are we sleeping for the next few hours?” I explained, “Because you’re alone and scared, and I can sleep through a hurricane, so where do you want me?”

“I—” She hesitated and then cleared her throat. “Yours.”

“Come on over.” I replied and then opened my front door before stepping into a pair of athletic shorts.

I heard the click of her door open through the hallway and hung up as she peeked around the doorway into mine. And even as tired as I was, I tipped my head back and laughed.

The only thing I could see was her toes and above her nose. The rest of her was tightly wrapped up in a blanket burrito so big that I imagined it hid a jar of pickles somewhere. “Do you think I don’t have any blankets?”

She grinned and pulled her mouth out from behind the layers, “I wasn’t willing to risk it.”

“Hmm.” I shut the door behind her and then clicked off the two lights that were on as I followed her over to the bed. At the end, she hesitated and looked over at me.

“What side?”

I raised a brow at her and crawled in on one side, holding the blankets out for her on the other. “I’ll be honest, I usually sleep in the center, so I might end up fighting you for space.”

She snorted and dropped her blankets as she walked around the bed, but I couldn’t form a coherent sentence as I watched her lush body move. She wore a black shirt-style nightgown that, in the grand scheme of things, was pretty modest. But what wasn’tmodest was the way it stressed every single curve of her body, making them visible to my depraved eyes.

She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her nipples were hard and proudly present as she skipped around the bed, making them shake and sway and as she crawled up onto the tall mattress. I could tell by the lack of lines showing through the fabric pulled tight over her ass that she was panty-less.

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