Page 17 of A Very Killer Christmas
“Look, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you can stop now,” I hiss, the pain fueling my anger. “I helped you, didn’t I? So please, just leave me alone for five minutes. What would I do, anyway? You have my phone.”
He regards me seriously, and I have trouble holding his gaze despite my fury. His scrutiny is almost like a physical sensation. No one has ever looked at me so closely, as if trying to uncover something hidden deep within. I wait anxiously, wishing I hadn’t said anything. It would be so much better if he just ignored me.
“I’m not playing games,” he says at last, each word weighed carefully before it’s uttered. “But I understand. I came into your house without invitation, threatened you with a knife and tied you up, and now I’m acting in a completely different way. You’re scared and confused. I’m sorry. I messed it all up.”
Before I can stop it, my anger drains out through the soles of my feet, and I am left confused and all aflutter. I wish I was furious with him, but he has the uncanny ability to disarm me.
“I don’t understand,” I confess quietly through my tight throat. “What do you want?”
“Many things.” He takes a step closer, and it’s suddenly hard to breathe. I stare at his eyebrows, each hair dark and shiny, and perfect. To look into his eyes would be to fall. “What I want the most is to make you happy. You saved my life. It’s a big deal, you know.”
I give up and lower my gaze. He… smolders at me. His eyes are soft and hooded, and when his tongue darts out to lick his lower lip, leaving behind a shine of wetness, I don’t move away. I can’t.
He hesitates, his mouth open as if to speak. There is something in his eyes, something yearning. I’ve seen that look before—in the mirror.
I yearn for things, too. Things that always feel just out of reach, attainable for others, but never for me.
I’ve almost lost hope that I could have them some day. But what if I can?
Would it be so wrong to fall? Just for one night? It’s Christmas, after all. Everyone deserves a gift.
“Do you know what else I want?” he asks, his voice dropping into a husky cadence that strokes the insides of my ears like velvet. “To kiss you.”
I blink once and don’t say anything. I think I forgot how to breathe.
“Will you let me, Prudy?”
The seductive rumble of his question sizzles over my skin like a caress. I still don’t breathe. This can’t be happening.
“Please. Just a little kiss. I’d like to taste you.”
When his lips press against mine, I realize my head nods on its own, without any conscious direction from my brain. The first breath I take is full of his air, warm and male, and I make a sound, something pitiful and small. He moans in response.
His lips slide against mine, careful and slow, and I’m frozen, gasping out faster and faster breaths.
My first kiss. From a killer.
When he pulls away, it’s just enough to speak. His lips brush mine with every word, and I’m frozen, unable to leave, unable to kiss him back.
“Shh, sweetheart. It’s just a kiss. I’ll hold you like this, see? You’re completely safe.”
His arms come around me, huge and inescapable, and that’s when I realize my legs are shaking. I’m weak, so weak, I’d slide down to the floor if not for his embrace.
“And I’ll kiss your cheek now. That’s innocent, isn’t it? Just a little peck.”
His warm lips press to my left cheek, and I jolt with a muffled sound deep in my throat as his hot breath races across my skin. The kiss isn’t innocent, not in the least. His lips are too hot, too male.
“And now, I’ll kiss you here. Another small peck. Nothing to be afraid of.”
His lips travel to my temple, brushing my skin along the way. My face seems suddenly enormous, all my attention focused on every inch of skin he touches. It’s like a landscape, and his kisses paint a map.
“And there’s nothing more innocent than a forehead kiss, is there?” he says, and there’s a hint of a smile in his voice, but he’s not laughing at me. He’s just… I don’t know.
Happy.
The warm, soft lips press to my forehead and stay there as his arms tighten around me. My face is turned up, up, up, and he’s so big, and it should be awkward and uncomfortable, but somehow, my head is angled exactly right, and his words make my breath flutter into a softer, easier rhythm.
“And we can’t neglect the other side of your beautiful face, baby. There.”
