Page 6 of Silent Night Sins
Chapter 3 – Nicole
Out of all the emotions swirling inside me, the loudest made the least sense. There was something familiar about those dark chocolate eyes. I didn’t know the man peering out from behind the mask. But an instinct, one planted deep inside me, called to him.
And my freaking body responded with a rush of heat.
Maybe it was the wine making me lose what little common sense was left after reading too many dark romance novels. I had only just opened bottle number two, and there’d been enough time for the first to wear off—plus all the snacks I’d munched on this evening helped with that.
No, I couldn’t blame my poor decisions on the wine. The smart thing to do would be to find my phone and call the cops. Instead, I was running upstairs like my lizard brain wanted to sneak into the dark and hide. Here I was, playing a game with the monster!
Breathing hard, I hunkered down in the guest room assigned to me. Nothing about this was right. Normal people weren’t turned on by being chased by a stranger.
Those eyes flashed through my mind. Who was he? And why the hell was I into this?
Because this is exactly how you imagined it.
I winced. My darkest secret, my deepest fantasy. It was playing out in real time, and I was the nutcase embracing it.
Not every girl wanted to be chased and ravished by a hot stranger. Hell, it was quite possible he was ugly under that mask!
A voice inside my head laughed at that.
That body was a smoke show. The thief was built for sex.
“I amnotturned on by this,” I told myself with force.
More demented cackling flickered through my brain.You won’t say no if he offers.
“He’s not going to offer. He came here to steal, not to play out some unemployed loser’s fantasies,” I snapped.
Hmm, he might be full of surprises.
I shook my head—hard.
Plus, when was the last time you did something just because you wanted to? Hmm? Not because it was expected of you? What has making the right choices gotten you? Make the wrong choice.
Well, if that wasn’t a tempting argument.
“And if he hurts me?” I countered. Just because he hadn’t, didn’t mean the thief was someone I should feel safe around.
My inner darkness was silent.
“That’s what I thought,” I snapped, unable to believe I was actually having this argument with myself. “And who uses the word ‘ravish?’ This isn’t a bodice ripper novel.”
I smacked the heel of my palm into my head. I was hiding from an intruder, and instead of figuring out a way to save myself, I was having an argument with the demented fiend who lived in the back of my mind. Not only that! I was nitpicking her choice of vocabulary.
A stair creaked. A sharp inhale caught in my throat. This was it. Do or die. I heard him climb the steps. Slowly. Methodically. A predator, stalking his prey.
A bolt of heat shot straight to my core.
Great. Not only was I the stupid girl in the horror movie who ended up massacred by the chainsaw, I craved the villain wielding the instrument of my demise!
Silence spread through the shadows. He was likely headed to the master suite. I would sneak downstairs, grab my phone from the living room, and call the police.
It was time to make the smart decision.
I stood from behind the hand-crafted armchair that cost more than the average family’s rent. Two steps forward, I paused to listen. The hall was just a shade darker than the bedroom. Other than the whir of the heat in the vents, it was silent. I took one long inhale and prepared to bolt.
A long, plastic taper candle blinked on, not three feet in front of me. The flickering orange glow cast a garish light on his mask.
