Page 7 of To Love a Monster
The trees ripple, the wind cuts through the cracks.I press my palm against the cold glass.The beat of my pulse is like a second set of footsteps trailing me.I know what I saw.Who I saw.He wasn’t close enough to touch, but close enough to leave a mark.My own breath is a ghost on the window, forming desperate little clouds that can’t obscure his presence.Can’t hide how my body responded, how it still responds, nerves alive and crackling under my skin.I press harder against the glass, the cold seeping into my bones like panic, like desire.And I feel it again, the feeling of being watched.And now I can’t help but wonder if it’s paranoia or if it’s my instinct telling me that someone truly is watching from the shadows.Waiting.But for what, I have no idea.
Tess’s voice chirps into the quiet.“Hey, you still there?”
I jump.“Yeah.I just—”
“Freaked yourself out?”she says, the grin evident in her voice.
My mouth twitches, a grim smile she can’t see.“Yeah, sorry.I’m just being an idiot.”
“Yeah, maybe try to relax a little, okay?Have a glass of wine or five.You’re supposed to be unwinding up there, not convincing yourself that you’re experiencing the beginning scenes of a bad horror movie.”
Her flippancy should calm me.Usually, it does.But this time it does little to settle the stir in my stomach.I press my forehead against the cool surface of the window.“You’re right, I’ll try and relax a little more.I promise.”
“Good.Love you.I’ll dig around a bit and call you when I find something, okay?”
“Love you, too,” I murmur.Then the line goes dead.My mind is still racing, heart going a million miles an hour, refusing to slow down.Refusing to let go of the fear, or the spark of thrill, it shouldn’t be holding onto.My eyes are drawn back to the lake, to the woods, the space where I swear I saw him.Wherehesawme.The thought sends a shiver rolling up my spine.
Suddenly the air feels different.Too thick, too dense.My robe clings to the back of my neck, my shoulders, and I pull it tighter, fold my arms over myself like a barricade.But I know it’s useless.I cross the room and open the door again, each step closer to the deck feels like I’m daring him to show himself again.
The night meets me, the cool air wrapping around my skin.My glass of wine waits where I left it, and I down it fast, a bitter rush that does nothing to drown the awareness.I scan the tree line and my heartbeat kicks up.
But he’s still not there.My mouth forms a tight line, something between a pout and a question.Maybe Tess is right.Maybe it was just a hiker, a neighbor.Maybe I just wanted to see him so my mind made me believe that I did.
The deck is cold beneath my feet, softly splintered wood biting into the soft skin of my soles.My fingers thrum a restless beat against my arms like my body is at war with itself.A battle between the almost unbearable need to retreat and the shameful want to stay and hope that he, whoever he is, returns.
I stay on the deck until the cold numbs the noise in my head.Until the sting of it forces the ache in my chest to calm.Until I can almost believe I simply imagined him.The house is too still when I go back inside, and I decide to take Tess’s advice and enjoy a few more glasses of wine.At least if I get drunk enough I’ll manage to get some rest.
****
Surveillance Log: L.M
Subject: Lila Montgomery
Location: Bathroom Surveillance Feed
Status: Camera Visual: 96% Audio: 69%
I wasn’t supposed to watch her through the bathroom cameras.After all, I initially put them there to be watched only if she was in danger.Women have a habit of retreating to the bathroom when they feel a threat in their homes.I was certainly never supposed to cross that line for my own selfish reasons.But I did.
I watched her as she touched herself.She thought she was alone.Thought the steam shielded her from the world, but I saw everything.The way she leaned back, how her legs parted beneath the water.I wondered what she was thinking about as her fingers slid down, teasing herself slowly.Her breath hitched, chest rising with every stroke, every tight circle over that swollen clit.
Her free hand gripped the edge of the tub like she was already breaking apart.She moaned, soft and fragile, and the sound made my cock turn to fucking stone.I couldn’t look away, couldn’t breathe.She was a vision of pure perfection as she writhed beneath her own hand, brows drawn in pleasure, lips parted, nipples peaked against the steam.
I wanted to kick in the door, drag her out of the tub soaking wet and bend her over the sink.I wanted to show her what it felt like when someone else controlled the pressure, the rhythm, the depth.I wanted her to cry out my name the way she whimpered into the steam.Desperate, raw, and messy.
I undid my belt without a second thought.Freed myself and wrapped my hand around the base, keeping my movements slow and controlled at first.
I stroked myself to the rhythm she set.Matched her gasps, her arches, her writhing.I imagined my hand was hers, then imagined it was my mouth between those trembling thighs, tongue buried deep, fingers digging into her hips while she sobbed my name like a desperate prayer.
I came hard, biting down on my wrist to keep from groaning loud enough to reach her.She thinks her fingers know how to bring her to the brink?I can’t wait to make her come until she’s clawing at my shoulders, tears in her eyes from being so fucking full of me, begging for more.I won’t stop until she whimpers.Until all she can feel is me.She’ll quickly learn that there’s no mercy in obsession.Only hunger.
She stepped out of the bath glowing.Soft and unaware.Like prey walking blindly toward the trap.She brought a glass of wine out to the deck and that’s when I decided to make the first move.To start our little game.So, I let her see me.I didn’t move, didn’t speak, just let her feel the weight of my gaze.And, oh, did she feel it.She stared, frozen, and I watched her heartbeat jump in her throat.
Watched her fear bloom like something sacred and I couldn’t help but chuckle as she ran inside.I slipped back into the shadows as she turned and picked up her phone.She’s going to obsess over this.Replay it.Doubt it.And that is exactly what I want.I want this to build, to blend fear and infatuation until she craves the feeling only I can give her.
Because this is only the beginning.
She’s mine.Even if she doesn’t know it yet.
