Page 35 of Under the Bed

My cock jumps in my hand.

I’m her stepbrother. Her ex-savior. Her current boogeyman.

A nightmare that protects and haunts her.

Her daddy must’ve fed her lies about me while I’d been locked up. Has to be why she hasn’t written.

Too bad it’s backfired on him. Terrifying her gets me off like no fucking other.

She would’ve screamed if she had woken up to this. Me, looming over her, seeking pleasure by pumping my dick. She would’ve scrambled away from me at the sight of my thick crown and the gleaming barbell.

You’re a perfect little thing, Shiloh. I’ll have so much fun defiling you. Destroying you.

The thought of ruining her for any other man sends me over the edge. God. Fuck. I lean over Shi to shoot my orgasm on her innocent face.

I empty myself on her cheeks, her lips. On her hair. My hips rock into my hand until I’m spent. Until I’m done.

Until I’m able to breathe again and tuck myself back inside my jeans.

For a few more seconds, I watch her through the dark holes in my mask. My girl is dirty. Filthy with my cum on her and my mask in her arms.

Mine.

You’ve earned your gift, I mouth as I place Dick’s finger next to my old mask and leave.

I won’t be gone for long.

Out here, in the darkness of the night, I realize I can’t spend the night in another bed.

No.

I’ll be back under hers.

When I find a temporary home, I will.

5

KALEB

Shiloh’s scent and the picture of her cum-streaked face are fresh in my mind when I pick the lock on Davis’ door. I know it’s their apartment because they have a sign on their door.

Not like the name of whoever lives here matters. The choice to make this apartment my home is strictly strategic.

It overlooks Shiloh’s apartment. First floor. Corner unit.

A place to lie low while Shiloh and I get reacquainted again. As adults, this time around.

They have what I need, and I’m taking it.

Remorse? Guilt?

What the fuck are those, anyway?

The bobby pins I grabbed from Shiloh’s bathroom work in unison. The pins inside the lock turn.

I press my ear to the door. No one’s running toward it. No one’s up. No one can stop me.

A strange emotion rises to the surface. A smidge of compassion, maybe? For their kids. If they have any. Hopefully not.

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