Page 34 of Compulsion

My fingers are itching for my paintbrush. Tumultuous emotions surge within me, making me seasick. I need to purge them at my canvas. Then, maybe I’ll be capable of enduring Dane’s kiss without my trauma ruining the moment.

He offers me a short nod of acknowledgement. “I’m looking forward to it.”

The statement seals my promise; his firm tone brooks no resistance. He’s expecting a message confirming that I’m safe.

His protective instincts soften any irritation I might feel in response to his highhanded manner. I could so easily throw myself into his strong arms and allow him to shield me from all the bad things in the world—including the horrors of my past.

But he can’t change who I am at my core. He can’t protect me from the darkness that lurks in my own soul.

I have to conceal it from him at all costs. If I’m going to see him again, I have to learn to control myself. Dane is a good man, and I want to be good for him too.

I offer him a quick, slightly awkward wave goodbye and force myself to walk away from him. As I put distance between us, I can practically feel the twilight shadow of his imposing frame lengthening behind me, as reluctant to release me as I am to leave him. It makes my skin prickle with residual awareness of his touch.

I take a breath and resolutely ignore the thrilling sensation that he’s still with me, even though I know I left him behind in the park.

15

DANE

Abigail

Home safe. Thanks for the gelato.

Istare at her perfunctory text and try to ignore the hot churning in my gut. I’m irritated. Frustrated.

Almost irrationallyangry.

My fist tightens around the phone. I refuse to be ruled by thesefeelingsshe brings out in me, even if I do enjoy the novelty.

So, I relax my grip and tap out a reasonable reply.

Dane

Glad to hear it.

I didn’t buy her cheap dessert; she did. I chose to avoid a potential argument and didn’t say a word when she handed over her change. There’s no reason for her to thank me for it.

And that kiss…

She shuddered and pulled away from me when I’d been experiencing the greatest high of my life. It’d taken all of my considerable willpower to appear genial and understandinginstead of acting on the savage instinct to cage her in my arms and claim her mouth until she softened and submitted.

I crave to unleash myself upon her, but I have to handle her with care. She’ll run screaming if I allow her to see the full truth of what I am. I can be patient. Careful.

I know she secretly fantasizes about the dark things I need to do to her. It’s simply a matter of time for me to earn her trust.

She’s setting her phone down and picking up her paintbrush. But I’m not ready to let her elude me.

I lean farther back into the shadows of my azalea bushes and lower my binoculars so that I can type out another message.

Dane

I want to see you again.

The rounded end of the paintbrush touches her lips. She stares at her phone where it rests on the small side table that she keeps beside her easel for access to her pink water bottle. The brush slips between her lips, and I imagine my cock sinking into that lush mouth.

She doesn’t touch her phone for several long seconds. She’s looking at it like it’s a feral animal that might bite her if she makes a sudden move. The paintbrush is tapping against her lower lip now as she twirls it between her deft fingers. A small furrow creases her brow.

I forget how to breathe while the seconds tick over into a full minute.

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