Page 139 of Creep
I pulled on my restraints, glaring over at him. “What’s going on?”
He didn’t answer me right away. I wished he would. The silence was making me nervous. I could feel my heart racing the longer he looked at me in that intense way of his.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said finally.
“About?” I asked warily, even if everything in me said I didn’t want to hear it.
“I think we should have a heart-to-heart. I’ll tell you everything. There will be no more secrets between us, yeah?”
“You’ll tell me everything?” I repeated.
He nodded.
I pulled on my restraints again, testing their hold. It wasn’t hard enough to be painful but firm enough that I wouldn't be able to escape unless he untied me. Mael was obviously good at tying knots. I didn’t want to think about why that was. There were no good options. Either he had practiced tying other people before he… before he killed them, or he had practiced tying up his previous lovers—something I shouldn’t care about, but fuck, I did.
I fucking did, and I hated myself for it.
“Why do I need to be tied up for us to have this conversation?” I asked.
“So you can’t try to run away when you hear something you don’t like.”
I closed my eyes briefly. That wasn’t reassuring. I had a feeling I wouldn’t like much of what he had to say.
“You can’t give me some clothes to wear?”
He reached out and ran his hand up and down my leg. I fought against the urge to react to his touch. “This is purely for my enjoyment. I can get naked, too, if it makes you feel better.”
I shook my head, the image of Mael naked running through my mind. How many hours had I spent just lying there, studying his naked body, as if I were an artist and he was my muse?
His being naked wouldn’t make me feel better.
“I prefer to be dressed.”
“Tough.”
I scowled. If my hands were free, I would have punched him in the throat. He smiled when he saw the murderous look in my eyes, moving over to the bed and climbing on. I tried sliding away from him but didn’t get far.
He pressed his hand down on my stomach over the sheet. I sucked in a sharp breath.
“Ask me, baby.”
“Ask you?” I repeated.
He nodded. “Ask me anything.”
“When did you start stalking me?”
“About a month before I made an appearance in the coffee shop.”
I let out a long, broken exhale over his words. A month he had followed me around. A month of me being oblivious to it all.
“How did we meet?” I asked. I remembered him saying something before about how one look was all it took for him to become obsessed.
I was beginning to see this was more literal than I had initially thought. Granted, he had said it to me as my stalker back then, so I should have already guessed just how literal he meant it. I wasn’t thinking then. I was thinking now.
At least, IhopedI was acting with a clearer head than I was back then.
Then Mael moved his hand gently up and down my stomach, and I felt all rationality slip away, and what was left was the hard, veryhardbattle of fighting against the urge to give up and just purr like a fucking cat.
