Page 25 of Stranger Session

“Were you two working together? Was this all some sick fucking game you guys decided to play with me?”

He shakes his head. “No. I didn’t know he was in the woods that night until you said I made you come before I caught you.”

“Bullshit!”

“I swear to god, Mariah. That’s why I walked you to your fucking car when we were done. I didn’t want him to hurt you.”

“How nice of you. What a gentleman!” I don’t know what I believe anymore.

“When I found out he was stalking you...” He shakes his head.

I take a deep breath. “Have I ever slept with him?”

“It was me in the woods and the cooler. If there were any other times, I’ll take more than just his vision from him.”

The relief I feel at hearing this is short-lived because even though it’s always been him, fuck him for doing this tome in the first place. And then the rest of his sentence sits on my chest.

“So you did that to him?”

“For you.”

“You can’t say that was for me, Del. I didn’t ask you to do that!”

“I had to protect you.”

I sigh. I want to hate him for that admission, but I can’t. I’m torn between feelings of disgust and pride. On one hand, he’s proven what he’s capable of. On the other, he’s proven he’ll do anything to keep me safe.

He grips my arm and pulls me into him. “I’m sorry for what I’ve done to keep you safe, but I’m not sorry for protecting you. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you, I promise you that. Just let me catch you again, Mariah.”

“Del . . .”

“No. I inhale your scent with every breath I take. You live rent free inside me.” He lifts his shirt, exposing a beautiful tattoo of a fall tree. A camera sits on the bench beneath the tree.

I gasp and look back toward my bedroom as I pull away from him and rush to grab the sketchbook from my desk. I flip to the page and confirm it’s the picture I drew after the photo shoot. Once again, flattery and frustration fight for dominance in my mind.

I stomp back to the living room and push the sketchbook toward him. “Was this supposed to woo me? This means you’ve been in my house without my permission.”

“I’m sorry, Mariah. It’s just such a good drawing, and it proves that day affected you too.”

My cheeks flush. No one has ever been so simultaneously offensive and sweet. It’s causing a mixed reaction in my gut, and I don’t know what to do with it. Seeing mydrawing off paper is a dream come true. I just didn’t expect it to be on my stalker’s body. One of my stalkers, that is.

“I hate you for what you did.” I study my feet before allowing my gaze to rise to his. “But I love you for thinking my silly art was good enough to put on your body.”

“It’s not silly art.”

I step toward him, allowing myself to get closer in so many ways. It feels like I’m standing near the edge of a cliff. If I take a few steps forward, I could see a beautiful view. But I’m also taking a risk. “How do I know the rest of those times were you?”

“Do you need me to remind you of how my piercing felt when it raked your pussy?”

I forgot about the pretty black barbells beneath his cock. It was hard to focus on them when I was being chased and forced because that sort of experience made me feel everything at once. But I definitely felt them in the cooler before I got so upset that I let it slip my memory once again. And he’s right. The man who took me in the woods and in the cooler had the same black barbells.

“Maybe you need to feel it at the back of your throat to jog your memory?” he asks. I’m close enough that his warm breath caresses the top of my head.

My heart catches in my throat. He’s so crass compared to the man I remember at the shoot. Is this what I draw out of him? What he draws out of me? He pissed me off and I’ve been mad at him, but I’ve also given myself to him, even if I didn’t know it was him. He had all of me in the palm of his hand, and I miss that.

I misshim.

“Yes, I want you to remind me,” I whimper.

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