Page 41 of Freaks Of Nature

Before she can clear the sharp right turn onto the main road, my fist seizes the back of her shirt. I yank her around to face me, caging her against the building.

Emily lets out a shriek. Her arms flail, trying to fight me off. We’re right at the corner, just out of view.

I put the tip of the blade to her left cheek, leaning in. “No one’s going to save you. No one cares.”

A trickle of sweat glides down my back. I won’t hurt her, but she doesn’t know that for sure. She doesn’t believe evenIhave my limits. Doesn’t know where I draw the line.

And it’s the not-knowing that scares her.

Emily freezes, all fight suddenly drained from her, though the fear etched across her face remains.

My heart pounds heavily beneath my ribs, but I keep my breathing calm, relishing the electric charge between our bodies.

Neither of us blinks.

“You see that bike across the street?” Using the blunt edge of the knife, I nudge her head in the direction around the corner. “That’s where I park every night, watching you through the windows of the diner.”

A small gasp slips across her parted lips at my confession, and my eyes charter the front of her throat as it hitches.

Then they roam lower.

My stare trails over her breasts, catching on the distinct peaks of her nipples through the fabric.

I tilt the knife in my right hand at her cheek, then drag the tip down, tracing her jawline slowly. “I promised you we’d play with knives, didn’t I?”

I map the soft shape of one breast, flicking the tip with my knife.

Fuck yes!

Her body arches against the blade, earning my play a little whimper. I knew she’d be into this.

I thread my free hand through the hair at the back of her neck, and give a light pull. Without taking my eyes off herface, I drag the flat side of the knife down her front, letting her feel the pressure of the tip along her stomach.

The blade skips over the waistband of her jeans. I clear the length of the zipper and slide the knife home in between her thighs.

Emily inhales sharply. Her hands squeeze my shoulders as my thumb strokes her clit through her jeans. Her eyelids flutter…

…and then shefuckingmoans.

Something in me snaps. I move back and forth in a slow slicing motion, letting her grind on me while melting into the blaze of her core. It flares through the material.

She’s so fucking bold.

She rides my hand over her clothes, and I almost drop the knife. I want to feel more of her. Want to feel her soft flesh against my fingers when she comes.

I retract the blade, folding it one-handedly and returning it to my back pocket while my left hand still fists her hair, forcing her chin up.

I slide the mask to the top of my head, letting her see my face, and lower my lips to hers. But I stop before they touch. “And you remember what else I promised you, don’t you, baby girl?”

My bottom lip feathers over her mouth as I inhale her juddering breath. “What I said I’d do next time I caught you?”

My voice is rough. Possessive.

“You knew, but you played my game anyway,” I remark. “You must want me pretty damn bad, I take it.”

I pull back, and whirl her around, my right arm wrapping around her, locking her body against mine as I pin her to the wall.

Palms up by her chest, she braces herself, every muscle flexed with apprehension.