Page 44 of Creep

“Then what do you want?” she asked when I took her hand and pressed it between my hand and my thigh. She still hadn’t pulled away.

“A kiss,” I said.

“A kiss?” she asked, her voice a mere whisper.

I tightened my grip a little around her hand. “A kiss.”

“Now? But you’re driving.”

I pulled the car to a stop in front of a stoplight and turned to her expectantly. The pedestrian countdown signal had begun at twenty-five.

“Better decide quickly.”

Her mouth gaped open slightly, looking out to the street, then back at me.

“What’s it going to be?” I asked, looking at the countdown. Fifteen seconds.

She saw it too.

Just as the countdown hit ten, she unbuckled her belt and leaned toward me, her lips pressed against my cheek, close to the corner of my mouth.

Fuck.

I felt that small, innocent little move all the way down to my dick.

I turned and looked at her, but her focus was straight ahead. A car honked behind us, causing her to jump.

“Green light,” she said softly. I hit the gas pedal, driving off and not saying anything, still reeling over that one little kiss that felt like it had enough power to bring me to my knees.

Lia Whitlock was a dangerous woman.

“That hint,” she reminded me.

I smiled and pointed to the picnic basket in the back seat.

“We’re going on a picnic?” she asked with a small, bemused smile. “But don’t you think it might be a little late to go to the park?”

“Who says we’re going to the park?”

“No? Where are we going?”

I shot her a look.

She settled back into her seat. “Yeah, yeah. It’s a surprise.”

I smiled and made the short drive. Lia moved up to get a good look around when I parked the car in the parking lot. I laughed at the look she shot at me, equal parts confused and morbidly curious.

“We’re having a picnic at a crematorium?”

I laughed. “Yes.”

“Why? And are we even allowed?”

“It’s okay. My brother owns the place. And because we’re not having the picnicinthe crematorium but behind it.”

I got out of the car before she could protest and walked over to her side, opening the door for her. I reached over and unbuckled her belt, letting my arm brush up against her breasts and loving the small gasp that escaped her from the contact before I straightened and held out my hand.

She hesitated. “Aren’t you afraid of ghosts?”

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