Page 29 of Peripheral Vision

“To be determined,” I admit, a small smile tugging at my lips.

He grabs my wrist, tugging me to him until I’m straddling his lap, his hands resting gently on my hips. The sudden closeness sends a jolt through me, and my breath catches in my throat. His gaze locks onto mine, intense and searching, before taking my lips in his. It takes me a moment to catch up, but when I do I thread my hands through his hair, causing a low moan to slip from his throat. He pulls away. “And now?”

“Good. Definitely good,” I breathe as his hands slide up my sides, stopping just below my ribs. The warmth of his touch contrasts sharply with the cool night air, and I shiver—but not from the cold.

His lips twitch into a smirk as one of his hands continues its exploration until it's rubbing along the underside of my breast. “What?” I ask.

“You’re nervous,” he teases gently. “Why?”

I open my mouth to respond, but falter, the words tangled in my throat. Because this moment feels fragile, I want to say. Because I’m afraid of what it might mean. Instead, I settle for a shrug. “Maybe you make me nervous,” I counter, trying to sound braver than I feel.

His smirk deepens, and he leans in just enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath on my neck. “Good,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “I like knowing that I have that effect on you.” He leans in further, his lips trailing along my jawline before he presses a kiss there.

I release a shaky breath. “Don’t get cocky.” He continues his exploration of my jawline and down my neck, pebbling my skin with soft kisses.

“Oh, it’s much too late for that, love. But you still haven’t given me your real answer.” His touch is both infuriatingly gentle and impossible to ignore.

“And what’s that, exactly?” I had forgotten my intoxication from the way he feels, in the way the bulge in his pants has grown beneath me.

“Why you’re still nervous? Because I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to. Unless of course” —his thumbbrushes under the curve of my breast once more— “you’re nervous because youdowant me. Because you like me more than you’re willing to admit.”

My laugh is breathy, my resolve melting just a little more. “You really don’t quit, do you?”

“When it comes to you? I don’t think that’s possible.” He hums, leaning in until his forehead brushes mine.

I swallow hard, my heart pounding so loudly I’m sure he can hear it. “Maybe I do, but don’t letthatgo to your head either.”

He gives me a devilish grin in response before he closes the remaining distance, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that’s as electrifying as it is inevitable.

Callum returnedme home well past midnight, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. I relished in the way he touched me, the way he whispered sweet nothings in my ear as he did so. I savored how he made me feel treasured through those touches. The way he traced my skin with his tongue, the sounds he elicited out of me as he moved with such an unhurried purpose, drawing out sensations I didn't know I could feel. But more importantly, I loved how he didn’t rush me. Didn’t try to coerce me into taking it further once I had enough forethought to pull away. It was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do, but if this was something we were going to pursue, then we had time.

He waited until I got inside before driving off, and I couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off of my face as I said hi to Alaska and went to my bathroom to get ready for bed.

I take my time in stripping off my shirt, leaving me only in my bra, and trace my hand back and forth across my collarbone, where I can still feel his mouth. I pull my hair up into a ponytail, washing my face before brushing my teeth. I’m just about to strip my shorts offand walk to my bedroom when my eyes connect with a figure in my mirror. “Was it fun? Your little date?”

My eyes widen as a gasp escapes my lips, fear washing out all the warmth I had just felt moments ago.

“Hello, little viper.” I can’t see his whole face, a mask partially obscuring it, but I can see the smile that crosses the bottom half as he says it, enjoying my discomfort. The mask covers the upper half of his face, the rigid detail of a skeleton etched in pale white against the contrast of the dark, soft cloth that lingers underneath.

I try but fail to conceal the terror in my voice. “H-how did you get in here? What do you want?”

“See, here’s the thing about electronic key locks—they’re only as secure as the one who codes them. They tend to provide a false sense of security too,” he says, taking a slow step forward, the faint click of his boot echoing in the otherwise silent room. “And you have been quite careless with your security. You left yourself vulnerable, I couldn’t just let anybody take advantage of that could I?”

I eye my phone where I have it set on the counter, weighing if I can inch towards it without him noticing me. “You’re insane. I’ll call the police.” I adjust slightly to the side, shifting in the direction of my phone, lifting my hand to act as if I’m resting it on the counter behind me. But somehow, he catches on to my scheme. Before I have a chance to grab it, he closes the distance between us, grabbing it from where I just barely have it in my grasp. He towers over me, his presence a suffocating force, his shoulders casting shadows that seem to swallow the light around us. The subtle hint of campfire embers and pine invades my nostrils, clinging to him like a second skin. The unmistakable aroma of well-worn leather, an interesting but pleasant undertone from the material of his jacket that makes me want to inhale him deeper.

He holds my phone above my head, shaking it in a taunt. “And what would you tell them, hmm? It isn’t like you have any proof. You’ve never had any proof.”

I know he’s right, but this time as I square off with him, I havethe advantage of facing him, unlike when he caught me off guard back in Norfolk. I feign a tremble, shrinking as far away from him as I can get from where he’s pinned me to the counter with nothing but his overbearing presence. I look to my left and to my right for anything that I might be able to use to get him the hell away from me, to give me the chance to run. My eyes snag on my ceramic toothbrush holder; not exactly what I wanted, but it’ll have to do. This time I don't give him the chance to predict my next move. I grab it, quickly connecting it with the side of his head, before shoving him out of the way and taking off out of the doorway. The menacing chuckle that follows me tells me that I don’t have much time to escape him. Just as I’m opening the front door, about to scream for help, an arm hauls me back.

He spins me around before slamming my back into the door, one hand over my mouth, the other securing my arms above my head with his hips pinned against my own. “Now that wasn’t very nice, little viper.” He removes the hand from my mouth, trailing it down the side of my face before pushing aside a piece of hair that was covering my collarbone. My body betrays me, responding to his touch with a shiver, my nipples tightening in response. I chalk it up to the high I was feeling earlier with Callum. And if he notices, he doesn’t say. His hands are gloved, likely to not leave evidence of whatever he was going to do to me. I strain my neck trying to get his touch off of me, but he grabs me by the chin, forcefully making me look at him.

“What do you want?” I plead.

“I’ve already told you once before. I wantyou. And I’ve warned you that you’re mine, but you just… don’t... listen.” He emphasizes his statement by grabbing my hair in a brutal grip, yanking my head back. The way he does it sends a rush of desire through my skin that follows a path straight in between my legs. “Do you really think he can care for you the way I can care for you? Do you think he knows you the way I know you, Dylan?”

I scoff, trying to ignore the way his voice caresses me like a soft,dangerous lullaby. “Care? You call this caring? This is an obsession. You don’t know me.” He tightens his grip on the base of my skull a little further, a gasp escaping my lips.

He doesn’t answer right away, but the tug of a smile plays at the corner of his mouth. “But that’s where you’re wrong.” He steps back, still holding my arms in place above my head while using the other hand to peel the top of his mask from his face. Recognition shoots through me, his emerald eyes pinning me there in triumph.

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