Page 33 of Blackwood

“I got it.” No fear. “Now, may I?” He raised his eyebrows.

I dropped the knife to my side but maintained a death grip on it. He scooped me up and headed toward the house with long strides.

“What was that? What did I see?” I stared up at him as the trees cast ever-changing shadows across his face.

He sighed. “Melinda and I have an arrangement.”

“Where you think it’s okay to hit her?”

He ducked under a low branch and kept walking. “She wants me to hit her, just as much as I want to hit her.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “It gets her off.”

“Does it get you off?”

He tensed and glanced into my eyes. “Yes.”

I’d heard about this sort of thing but never seen it firsthand. “So it’s BDSM? And you’re like a dom or something?”

“Not as simple.” He shook his head.

“Then what?”

His grip tightened as he stepped over a fallen tree. “I’ve always been… I guess strange is the word, when it comes to sex.”

“Don’t get vague on me.” I glared at him. “I need you to explain what the hell I just saw.”

“Why? Why isn’t it enough for you to know I won’t hurt you?”

“You almost choked me out earlier!” My voice cracked in the cold air.

“But I didn’t, and I never would. Not unless you asked.”

Not unless I asked?“Are you fucking kidding me? You explain and you do it fast. If I’m not satisfied by the time we get to the house, I’m calling the sheriff. Give me every detail. Make me understand.”

“God, this is worse than seeing a therapist.”

“You’ve been to a therapist for this?” I couldn’t imagine Garrett sitting in a staid office and telling his kinky sex fantasies to a guy in a smoking jacket.

“When I was a teenager, my mom found some of my porn—not your average centerfolds. She freaked out and sent me to a specialist in Columbus.” He wrinkled his nose. “I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

“Keep going or I’ll be telling Sheriff Crow all about Melinda.”

He grimaced. “The therapist said I was fine, just different. He was actually helpful, taught me that I wasn’t the freak I feared I was. I mean, still a freak, but not some sort of psychopath or something.”

I wasn’t so sure, but I wanted him to keep talking, so I stayed quiet.

“I always enjoyed the idea of women in bondage, women who liked pain. Horror movies turned me on—”

I stiffened in his arms.

“Not the blood or the killing.” He hopped over a small stream. “The fear. I wanted to be the psycho killer, the hot girl afraid and screaming, but instead of slashing her to bits, I wanted to fuck her.”

I shuddered. “Rape.”

“Yes, but no. I’d never take a woman against her will.” He peered down at me. “That night when I choked you—” His gaze fluttered to my throat. “—that was a warning, just a taste of what I’m capable of. You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about touching you. I’ve wanted…”

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