Page 6 of To Love a Monster
I drop the bag onto the counter as the fridge hums in the background, loud in the quiet evening air.I go ahead and put the groceries away, each motion slow and deliberate, like I’m performing for an invisible audience.Lettuce in the fridge drawer.Yogurt on the top shelf.Bread on the counter.
For some reason, my hands are tense and my mind won’t settle.My shoulders twitch at every creak in the floor, and the blank canvas taunts me.Perhaps I just need to do a little bit of painting
There’s no plan this time, just pure instinct.White streaks across the center like something desperate trying to escape.My hands move from memory and eventually I lose myself in the process completely.The strokes fill the canvas fast and hard as I add a few shades of blue, blending them with dark grays, oranges, and violet to create a stunning image of the lake house framed by a beautiful sunset.
I’m so wrapped up in the high of painting that when that eerie feeling of being watched returns, the sensation is like ice cold water on sunburned skin.It’s like my body is aware of a threat my eyes can’t see.My heart begins to race as I stumble backward, my brush falling to the floor with a soft clatter.My fingers find the window cord and rip the blinds open, exposing the house to the woods as I squint into the darkness, trying to assess any danger in the distance but find none.My breath fogs the glass and the cold presses in through the window.
Despite there being no movement whatsoever, my pulse remains erratic in my throat.The trees around the shore bend and lean in the breeze, their shadows so deep it feels like there’s a hidden crowd of eyes all fixed on me.
The minutes drag as I stand there watching the wind.The dark curls itself around the edges of the house, clinging to the branches as the moon glows higher over the lake, casting a stunning light on the still water.The house is silent behind me as I back away from the glass, moving slowly as I close the blinds again.
****
The bath is almostscalding as I stretch my limbs under the surface of the water, slick with lavender oil and cheap bubbles that catch the dim light like static.Steam curls around me, soft and ghostly, filling every breath with heat and heaviness.I close my eyes, trying to relax and unwind when, for some reason, my mind drifts back to the handsome stranger in the art store.The way he seemed to appear out of thin air with his emerald eyes and thick muscles.He was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen.There was something about his stillness, the way his shoulders didn’t slouch, didn’t relax.Like the tension in him is permanent.And the way he stole the breath from my lungs with a single look, it made me wonder how my body would react if he actually touched me.
I shake my head, trying to chase the thought away as I press a hand to my chest and try to ground myself.Who fantasizes about being touched by a stranger they glimpsed in a small-town art store?I know it’s silly, but my skin still buzzes at the thought of him.
Maybe it’s because I’ve just gone so long without touch that even the thought of a green-eyed monster of a man wrapped around my body is enough to set my skin on fire.I press my hand harder against my chest, leaving little crescent moons where my nails dig in as my skin prickles and my breath shudders.
I lay back slowly, letting the water kiss my thighs, my stomach, the peaks of my breasts as the lavender oil slicks over me.Calming and soft.I try to breathe deeply and clear my mind, but the tension doesn’t leave.It coils tighter, deeper.The fantasy now taking root as the image of him flickers behind my eyelids.
Those glass-shard eyes, his tall, muscular build, hands that look like they could crush me in seconds.Maybe it’s the isolation.Maybe it’s because I haven’t been fucked by a man in months, but I find myself craving release as my hand moves beneath the water.I hesitate, fingertips ghosting down my stomach as a breath trembles past my lips.
I tell myself I’m just ...unwinding.Releasing the stress.But I’m wet imagining how big his cock must be if it’s proportionate to the rest of his body.I curse under my breath but don’t stop.My fingers slip lower, finding the heat beneath the water, sliding through slick folds that throb with unspent tension.I circle my clit.Once.Twice.And I give in, letting myself think about him.The ache deepens as I spread my legs wider beneath the water and dip a finger inside.The moan that escapes is soft, strained, almost guilty.But I don’t stop, it feels too fucking good.I arch, chasing the edge as I give in to the ridiculous fantasy, breathing ragged and desperate as I picture that mouth against my skin, my throat, my—
My climax hits fast and hard.A tight, involuntary squeeze from deep inside.The kind that feels like punishment wrapped in bliss.I cry out, my moan half-muffled by the steam and then there’s silence.Nothing but my heartbeat echoing in my ears.
I soak for a few moments more as I catch my breath, then I drain the tub and towel off in silence.I don’t bother changing into anything more than a robe and I step barefoot onto the deck to breathe in the cold air.
The lake glows silver in the moonlight, fractured by ripples that seem to come from nowhere.The trees rustle, branches trembling like they’re afraid to be still.I sip from the glass of wine I brought out, eyes trailing along the woods.And then I freeze.Just off to the side, barely hidden by the shadows is someone standing.At the edge of the trees, half-obscured, but visible in the space between the branches.He’s leaning against a trunk, one boot propped, arms crossed.His build is unmistakable.Broad chest.Long legs in dark denim.A black hoodie pulled low over his face, but the shadows leave just enough light to show his mouth.Stubble along a sharp jawline.A mouth I recognize—the same one I was just thinking about as I moaned into the quiet.It’shim.The guy from the store.He’s not moving, not hiding.He’s just ...watching me.
My breath catches, my wine glass trembles in my hand and I set it down on the small table before quickly rushing inside.I snatch my phone from the counter, and dial Tess’s number.Tess.My best friend.The one person I can always count on to talk me down when my emotions get the best of me and call me out when I’m making a mountain out of a molehill.Something I apparently tend to do quite often.
She answers on the first ring, her voice husky like she’d already gone to bed.“Hello?”
“Hey, Tess?Someone’s outside the house,” I say immediately.“I think he’s watching me.”
There’s a pause and I hear the rustling of sheets followed by the click of her bedside lamp switching on “Okay, whoa.What?Are you sure?”
“I swear to God, Tess.I just saw him.He’s here right now.Standing just in front of the trees close to the back door.”
She exhales into the phone.“Lila ...you’re in the middle of a beautiful lakeside town that’s super popular with tourists.Are you sure it’s not just a hunter?A friendly night owl?Or someone out for an evening walk?”
“He was staring,” I whisper.“Not moving.Just staring.At me, Tess.”
“You’ve been a little jumpy lately,” she says gently.“Maybe you’re just on edge.You said yourself you’ve been feeling off over the last few months.”
My lips part, about to argue, but when I glance back out the window...He’s gone.The space between the trees is empty again.Like he was never there at all.I rub my hand down my face, realizing that she’s not going to be much comfort, especially if I tell her he’s now disappeared.
“You’re probably right.Maybe I’m just ...losing it a bit.”
“Not losing it.But maybe a little too hyped up.Want me to check my parents’ records?See if there’ve been any new property sales recently?Maybe some hot recluse just moved in and didn’t get the ‘Don’t freak out the weird girl by the lake’ memo.”
I let out a shaky laugh.“Yeah.Okay.That might help.Thanks, Tess.”
“Consider it done.And if he’s hot, I’m claiming him for you.Obviously.”
I smile, but it’s hollow.My gaze drifts back to the woods.There’s nothing there now.But the imprint remains.That eerie stillness.That silence that feels like breath on your neck
