Page 93 of He Sees You
"I have an idea." She pulls my laptop over, starts typing. "He runs every morning, you said? Even in winter?"
"According to his social media, yes. Posts about it constantly. 'No excuses' mentality."
"The trail he runs—it goes through isolated areas?"
I see where she's going. "Several. Particularly the stretch by Miller's Pond. No houses for a mile in either direction."
"So, we intercept him there. Make it look like a heart attack during his run. Older, overweight man pushing too hard in the cold."
"You've thought about this before."
"I've written about it before. Chapter twelve of my third book." She shows me her laptop screen—she's pulled up the scene. "Victim jogging, killer uses a paralytic agent first to immobilize, then administers the fatal dose. Body isn't found for hours, chemicals break down, looks natural."
"Fiction becoming reality."
"Our specialty." She closes the laptop, straddles my lap. "But first, we have tonight. Our first night as an engaged couple."
"What did you have in mind?"
She kisses me, deep and consuming. "I want you to fuck me while I wear her ring. I want to consecrate this symbol of their wealth and cruelty with our darkness. I want to transform everything they were into what we are."
I grab her hand and yank her out through the back door.
The night air bites sharp as we step out of the cabin, the snow crunching under our boots like brittle bones.
Celeste's breath fogs the air, her cheeks flushed from the cold and the rush. She's bundled in my coat now, too big for her frame, but she wears it like armor.
The forest around the cabin is a white expanse, untouched except for our tracks. I glance back at the cabin's glow, then at her.
"I need you, Cain." Her words are a spark in the freeze, igniting something primal.
The snow falls soft, blanketing us in silence broken only by our steps.
We stop at the edge of the frozen pond, the ice thick underfoot, reflecting the moonlight like shattered glass.
I pull her close, my hands framing her face.
Our kiss is rough, teeth clashing, tongues battling in the chill.
She tastes like whiskey and vengeance, her lips cold but warming fast under mine.
"Here?" I murmur against her mouth, already knowing the answer.
"Yes," she breathes, her fingers fumbling with my belt. "Out here, where it's raw. Where we can feel everything."
The snow swirls around us as I back her against a sturdy pine, its branches heavy with white.
My hands shove up her shirt, exposing her bare skin to the biting wind.
Goosebumps rise instantly, her nipples hardening into tight peaks under the cold.
I pinch one roughly, rolling it between my fingers until she gasps, her head falling back against the bark.
"Cold," she hisses, but her eyes are wild, pupils blown with lust.
"I'll warm you up," I growl, dropping to my knees in the snow.
The freeze seeps through my pants, numbing my shins, but I don't care.
