Page 10

Poppy

" Y ou lied to me," I say as he gets to work making the bagel.

His employee, Kyle, sneers before turning and walking into the back room, leaving Corbin and me to ourselves. For a brief moment, I considered making Kyle this year's kill for being an uptight asshole. That may not be good for Corbin’s business, though.

I haven’t been able to get him off my mind for the last 364 days, so here I am. I’ve had a lot of thoughts consuming me since spending time with Corbin, like whether or not Drew was actually connected to this so-called Collection. It took some time to muster up the courage, but eventually, I scoured our home for any sort of connection.

I was pretty close to calling it quits and chalking everything up to Corbin being a liar when I found a loose floorboard with a phone hidden inside. The phone was dead, with no way to turn it on, and when I looked further into the hidden spot, I found a letter. The letter went into detail, confirming everything. He explained that if I was finding it, then there was a good chance he was already dead. It touched on how The Collection operated and that I should keep this a secret because it could get me killed.

The note went on to say, he wanted me to move on because my happiness was his priority over everything, even if that meant I ended up with someone else. He ended the note with a starred message showing a phone number and told me if I was ever in trouble, I could call for help. Curiosity got the best of me, so I looked it up, only to find it belonged to Trent.

The Trent that was at the club the night Drew and I met and was also at the bar last year with Corbin. He changed a lot over the years, so I didn't recognize him at first, but he is the same person. Everything was all connected in some fucked up twist of fate. No fucking way would I ever call him.

For months, I read the letter over and over, taking in every detail and trying to figure out what it meant for me moving forward. Did I still feel obligated to uphold my promise of seven kills? Why didn't he tell me about The Collection sooner?

There must have been hints that I missed along the way. If I thought hard enough about our time together, I could probably pick some out, but I don’t want to dissect our relationship. There would have been no way for me to ever guess he was hiding something that major from me.

A hand with a bagel reaches out, interrupting my thoughts.

"Are you going to ignore me?" I glare.

"The sandwich is on me. Now, if that's all, I have a lot of work to do."

"What, no catch like last year? You're just going to give this to me and walk away?"

"I don't know what you expect from me, Poppy. If you want to talk, we can, but I'm not doing it here. This is my business, and you knew that when you came in."

"Can we go back to your place?" I suggest, dropping the act. The truth is, I want to talk. The conversation has played on repeat in my mind for a year now, and I've pictured a million different ways that it would go. "We do need to talk."

"Do you think you can stay for the entire conversation this time?" he throws back. It's a low blow, but it's fair.

"I won't leave unless you want me to," I reassure him and watch as the expression on his face relaxes slightly. His jaw tics, like he wants to say something else, but he only nods before walking to the back.

He and Kyle return a few minutes later, and Kyle tosses me another dirty look. His scowl would scare me if I were a normal woman, but I’m a serial killer. I smirk to myself, thinking about how he doesn’t even realize he should be afraid of me.

"Ready?" Corbin asks, and I nod as he leads us out of the shop.

He hails a cab, and the two of us sit in silence. There is so much more tension now that we’re in a smaller space and it has me wondering if this was a mistake.

I glance down at the spot where my knee touches his leg, and the heat from the contact is all I can focus on. My mind is telling me to move, but I can't because I missed his touch.

Why does he affect me like this? If I were still friends with Lilly, she would ask me if he had a magic dick. That must be what it is. I was lulled into some sort of twilight zone where I can't stop thinking about a man all because he has a magic dick.

I chuckle to myself and see Corbin's head turn toward me in my peripherals. "Something funny?" he asks.

"I was having a debate in my mind about whether or not you have a magic dick," I blurt out in honesty.

His mouth drops open like he's going to say something, but it quickly snaps shut, and he shakes his head. When we pull up to his apartment building, I can't help the way my heart begins to race. A crippling anxiety begins to consume me, but I push that feeling away.

Suck it up, Poppy. This is why you went to his shop. You need your answers, and you need to know if how you felt toward him was real . I remind myself, even though part of me knows the things I felt, no… feel, for Corbin are definitely real.

How do I know that? Well, because I'm feeling them again now. It still doesn't make sense, and I don't particularly like it. Having feelings means losing control. Emotions only cause problems, and the last time I let go of control, someone I loved died.

After what feels like forever, we make it into his apartment, and I lean down to take off my boots before placing them on the same shelf I sat them on a year ago. I straighten myself only to see him standing just a few feet away, watching.

His chest heaves up and down, and his nostrils flare as his eyes stay trained on mine. I take a step toward him, closing the distance while imitating the same heavy breaths he seems to have. The air around us is electric, just begging for someone to break the tension, so I do.

"Kiss me," I plead. "Kiss me, now, before I lose every bit of courage and–"

I'm cut off when his mouth lands on mine, and my eyes fall closed. My body relaxes into him as his hands roam up and down my back, gently pulling at my hair. A soft moan leaves me, and his hand slides up to cup my face.

He deepens the kiss, like he's been starved for me, and the two of us move together before I’m pinned against the wall. His other hand slides down my waist, gripping me tightly before moving up to cup my breast through my sweater.

Fingers pinch my nipple, and my pelvis lifts into him. I can feel the hardened outline of his cock pushing into my stomach just begging to be touched. Hmmmm begging sounds nice.

I pull back, and he peers down, trying to catch his breath as I say, "I liked you better on your knees, bagel boy."

His eyes darken while he slowly sinks to his knees in front of me. He didn’t even hesitate. I throw one of my arms over his shoulder while the other cups his cheek, letting him lean into it with closed eyes.

"You feel it, too?" It seems like an absurd question for me to ask, but for some reason, I can tell he understands.

"It doesn't make any sense," he admits, shaking his head.

"No, it doesn't, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about you—about us. We aren’t even an us, but I can't get you out of my head. How is that possible?" My brows furrow as tears blur my vision.

"Sometimes things can't be explained, cupid, only felt. What I feel for you is different than anything I've ever felt in my life."

My eyes close for a brief moment while I reconcile my next moves. The first time I was here, I could say I was lonely and looking for someone for comfort, but being with Corbin this time is a choice.

It's my choice to move on from Drew and allow the possibility of someone else fulfilling the role that he was intended to. It's a choice to start living for my future instead of being consumed by my past. It's the exact choice Drew described he wanted me to make in the letter he left.

"Take the thoughts away. Remind me how good we are together," I say to Corbin with a smile, and he springs into action.

He stands from his kneeling position and lifts me in one fluid motion. My legs wrap around his waist, my arms around his neck as his mouth lands on mine again. We move steadily to his bedroom while we lose ourselves in one another. With the amount of desperation, you would think we were two lovers who just found one another after being forced apart for years.

He drops me down on the bed and reaches up to grip the waistband of both my leggings and panties, pulling them down and tossing them over his shoulder. Feeling his hands on my bare skin ignites a raging inferno, burning me from the inside out. Just one simple touch from him is all I need to be completely consumed again.

"I'm doing it my way this time," he asserts, and I don't tell him no because I want everything he has to give. "You have no idea how many times I've thought about doing this again, cupid." He pushes my legs apart, and I feel his breath meet my center.

Cupid. That stupid nickname. Who knows if he will still want to do this with me after he finds out I'm The Cupid Killer. I have to tell him the truth, even if he feels compelled to tell the police. I never planned to make it out of this alive anyway.

His tongue glides along my pussy and pulls me back to the moment. I bring my hands down to grip his hair, pleasantly surprised with the new length. It’s grown about another inch and adds a new mischievous sex appeal to him.

His heated gaze lands on mine as he twirls his tongue inside me, making me rock my hips. I grip his hair harder, pulling him toward my clit as his tongue sweeps along my entrance. He groans but complies, latching onto my clit and making me see stars.

The pleasure builds faster than I could have ever imagined as he hums in approval while slipping a finger inside me and curling it in the perfect position. I whimper, letting him keep up the pace for another few moments before I can’t take it anymore. I erupt, clenching around his finger while moaning his name. "Corbin."

When I start to come down, he pulls away long enough to walk over to the nightstand, grab a condom, strip free from his clothes, and slide the condom on. His eyes are dark and full of need when he makes his way back to me, possessed by lust.

I glance at the scars on his stomach, and I kick myself for not giving him the chance to tell me about them last year. Hands grip my ankles, and I'm pulled to the edge of the bed, making me giggle.

He throws my legs over his arms and slams into me unforgivingly, with no warning. Pleasure jolts my core, making my eyes roll back in my head, and I'm reminded of exactly how good sex with him is. He grins as his pace quickens, making my back arch off of the bed as his piercing rubs against my inner walls.

"So good," I breathe out, "you're so good for me."

That seems to encourage him a bit because he thrusts harder, determined to make up for any missed time we had.

"Fuck, keep doing that. Just like that," I whine, already feeling my body building again.

"Anything for you, cupid," he says while bringing a thumb to my clit and lightly pinching it between his fingers. My eyes shoot open as the combination of pain and pleasure sends me over the ledge.

"That's it. Come all over my cock," he growls, and I do exactly that with my pussy pulsing around him.

I clamp down and scream in pleasure as waves of what feels like electric shocks rush through me, and I come. He follows closely behind, shooting his release into the condom and grunting my name. "Poppy.”