Page 73 of The Cute Psycho

"Yes... if she still lives, that is," he replies, giving me a half-smile.

Not wanting to ruin the moment, I quickly change the topic.

"You do realize this looks an awful lot like a date," I add cheekily as we take our shoes off, walking barefoot in the sand.

He turns to me, and a little pensively he comments, "You're right. It does look like a date."

Without adding anything more, he walks in front of me, setting the basket down and laying the blankets on the sand.

I shake my head at him, realizing he just can't take a hint.

It does look like a date?

Would it have been that hard to agree itisa date?

I rub my arms with my hands as the chilly night air brushes against my skin. I didn't realize it would be this cold on a summer night, but I guess it's because of the ocean breeze.

"Done!" he exclaims, sporting a proud expression as he looks down at the little picnic he'd set up.

"Good job," I add drily, and his smile suddenly falls.

"You don't like it," he states, his expression downcast.

"No, I do," I quickly reassure him. "I love that you put so much thought into this," I add, and his face lights up.

"Perfect! I wasn't sure what girls like..." he says, scratching the back of his head. Suddenly I realize I'm not the only one who is confused.

The more I think about it, the more I can't control myself as I burst into laughter. Vlad looks at me like a lost puppy, as if his very life depends on my acceptance.

"Then why..." he trails off, and I want nothing more than to take him into my arms and shower him with kisses.

How is it that this practiced killer can be confident and deadly one moment and then become so timid and unsure of himself the next?

"I just realized that I've been going about everything the wrong way," I tell him, lowering myself to the blanket and patting the seat next to me for him. He sits down, his eyes big and full of curiosity as he glues himself to me.

"What do you mean?"

"I've been second-guessing everything that's been happening between us, thinking that maybe you don't find me attractive or..." I feel my cheeks heat up and for some reason I have a hard time bringing up the fact that I'd thought he wasn't into women, "Or that you didn't necessarily like women," I finally admit.

"You... thought..." A smile pulls at his lips before he also starts laughing. "Oh, Sisi, if you only knew..." he groans, bringing his face next to mine. Our noses are touching, our eyes having their own staring contest.

"I like women," he states bluntly, "one woman specifically," he amends, and my lips twitch in response. "But I admit I'm not the bestat dealing with women since you're about the only one I've been around in a very long time."

"I think we've settled that neither of us is great at understanding the opposite sex," I mention jokingly.

His eyes darken and his gaze bores into me. Chills erupt all over my body as I soak in his intensity.

"Make no mistake, however," he whispers, his breath so close to my skin.

"Yes?" I ask breathlessly.

"I find you very attractive, Sisi. So much so that every time you leave I have to take a fucking cold shower. Is that what you want to hear? That just being near you makes me so painfully hard I'd like nothing more than to lift up your skirt." His fingers brush my leg as he takes the hem of my dress up in a tantalizingly slow motion, "And fuck you raw and bloody until we're both spent." His mouth nuzzles at my throat.

"Why don't you?" My voice comes out on a low moan.

"Oh I will, just not yet." He brushes his cheek over the skin right above my collarbone, "This isn't a race to the finish line, it's a marathon. And for the first time in my life, I find that I'd rather have patience." His lips press right above my heart, "And unwrap you bit by bit."

Suddenly, he tears his mouth from my body, standing up and taking his shirt off. My eyes widen as I take in his sculpted torso, the entirety of it a canvas for a myriad of images. There's barely any spot left untouched by ink.

---