Page 96 of Under the Bed

I swear, if I didn’t love him so much, I’d slaughter him.

Instead, I take a seat, resting my hand on top of the pocket where I keep my knife.

16

KALEB

Bound. Screaming. Crying. Panting for me.

Every time I rubbed one out at Berkshire, that was my fantasy. That was how I wanted Shiloh. That was how I had her.

This moment, though. This fucking moment.

When she sits cross-legged like this, her dress rises, revealing a hint of her fishnets.

She shrugged off her coat and draped it over the back of her chair earlier, and I can’t get enough of how her black dress hugs her soft curves. Her blazer hugs her body in a way that accentuates her breasts, a mouthwatering sight.

But her clothes aren’t what makes me painfully hard.

It’s her reaction to me.

Her pulse is loud enough for me to hear all the way from here, where I sit across from her.

Her blue eyes are wild. Rage bursts through them.

Hands clamped on the armrests.

The vein in her neck throbs.

Fury.

Delicious, untamed, and unhinged fury.

It’s rolling off her. Splashing in rough strokes all over this bland, boring clinic.

So boring. In fact, I’ve never been to a more boring place in my life.

A therapist’s practice is supposed to be a calming space for the patient. Being Dr. Reynolds’s patient for years has taught me that.

Calming, not sleep-inducing.

It’s like they want their volunteers to fall asleep here.

Gray walls. Gray chairs. Cheap gray desk. Even the man who dared—fuck, I can’t kill him, not right away—touch Shiloh wears gray slacks.

Don’t get me started on the pathetic one-way mirror.

Without Shiloh here, I might’ve dozed off the second my ass landed in the chair.

Then again, I would’ve never come here if it weren’t for her.

“Mr. White, may I call you Jakob?” the asshole sitting to her right asks.

My eyes never leave hers. I’m soaking up this moment. This torture. This taunting. I’m a starved man, and her labored breaths are my favorite meal.

“Mr. White?” She seethes, jaw working. “You’re here to talk, aren’t you? Then talk.”

Her loser professor coughs. His pen drops to the floor with aclank.

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