Page 15

Phantom

O h, no. Shit. Fuck!

I fucked up royally. She stared at me with wide eyes, her hand pressed to her mouth, utter shock on her face. And of course. Of fucking course. I was crude, I was hideous, and really, what did I expect? This girl deserved to be wooed. She deserved poetry sung under her window, and not…

Not me. Telling her to do the nasty .

“I’m sorry,” I said, standing up. “I’ll see myself out.”

Also, what? Sorry? I was totally turning into that doormat, though Nat had assured me wanting to treat someone nicely didn’t mean I was losing my self-respect. Well, he was wrong. I felt like a total tool.

“Wait!” she called urgently, pushing away from the desk when I was almost to the door. “I… I’m not sure what to say. I just don’t want you to go.”

I shivered, hesitating. I wanted to stay, too. It had absolutely killed me to keep my distance and make a pretense of my professional integrity. I was at the end of my tether.

Because I missed her. I wanted to tease her and make her laugh, and it almost didn’t matter that after my task was over, I’d never see her again. I could probably take it, if only I got to do some of the things that obsessed me on the long nights when I smoked in the garden while she watched me from her window under the cover of the dark.

That was the worst thing. Her looking. I didn’t know what it meant, and it made me hope. But hope was ridiculous.

“I just told you ugly things, doll,” I said, shaking my head. “Things not for your ears. Tell me you hate me so I can get my head on straight.”

“But I don’t,” she said, puzzled. “You’re the only person I like. I mean, apart from Madame Morozova. I like her, too.”

I turned with an incredulous laugh. “You like that shriveled old prune who says you have horse legs and dance like a swan that had too much vodka on an empty stomach?”

She shrugged, blushing. “Well, she treats me like a person. And you do, too. So… I don’t understand exactly what you need from me, but, uh, we could maybe negotiate.”

She raised her eyes, and her expression was so hopeful, so utterly vulnerable, it shook me to the core.

Fuck. She was lonely. She liked me because I didn’t kiss her ass like the rest of the world or harp on her like her mother. A hot shiver pooled in my guts when I realized what she meant, too. We could negotiate. She thought I wanted sex from her, and she was ready to give me something just so I would be her friend.

What a fucked up little princess.

“Forget what I said,” I demanded, vehemently vowing to myself to never, ever make a pass at her again. Not like that. “It was just a stupid joke. I make too many of those.”

And it would stop. No more jokes, no more trying to get in her pants when I knew fucking better. I would be good. I would be her friend, talk to her, help her out with everything, and then I would catch everyone who threatened her so she would be safe.

I would respect her like she deserved. No matter if my balls fell off, because every minute spent in her presence made me tingle with horny need.

“A joke,” she said, a rueful smile playing on her lips as she cast her eyes down, her cheeks burning. “Of course. Um, well. Will you stay? Please. You can have my pie if you want.”

She looked up with hope, and I cursed myself again. The doll was desperate for company. Desperate enough to beg me. How hadn’t I seen it before?

“Nah, I ate five pieces,” I said truthfully. “I’m a glutton. Don’t enable me, okay? Eat your pie.”

She nodded with a small smile and sat back down at her desk. I dragged a chair closer to her so we could sit side by side.

“So, what have you planned for tomorrow?” I asked, eyeing the big dollop of whipped cream on her spoon. Damn, that pie really was good. Not too sweet, the crumble perfectly crispy—just magic.

“Not much,” she said after she swallowed. “That gala is tomorrow, so I’m guessing my prep team will get here at two to get me ready.”

The gala started at six. I snorted.

“What, you need four hours to get ready for a party?” I asked, shaking my head. “Will they skin you alive and put on a new face or what?”

She grimaced. “Eww. That was gross. And no, not really, but my mother always wants me to look perfect.”

She dug her spoon into the pie with vehemence. A sudden burst of pink in my vision let me know my sick hormones really appreciated how cutesy it was. She was so angry, she murdered that piece of pie.

So fucking cute.

“Perfect? You don’t need four hours for that. Just maybe four seconds,” I said, my infatuated brain making me say mushy things I’d later beg to forget.

She snorted incredulously, rolling her eyes. “Yeah? And what would I do in four seconds?”

I reached out without thinking and wiped a bit of whipped cream from the corner of her lips. Before my brain could kick in, I sucked that finger into my mouth, wrapping my long tongue around the sweetness.

She stared at me with wide eyes, blushing. I shrugged, cursing at myself, yet also pleased. This was allowed, I decided. It was flirting, toeing the line a bit, but it wasn’t like I told her to please hop on my cock, so I could finally be inside her.

Helping her get food off her face was gentlemanly. Yeah.

“I really like that cream,” I said to diffuse the situation. “It’s thick and not too sweet.”

She nodded slowly, piling a big bite of crumble, blueberries, and cream on the spoon.

“Have more then.”

When she offered me the spoon, her eyes questioning, I almost expired on the spot.

“Not a good idea,” I said, backing away. The chair scraped the floor when I pushed too hard.

“What? Why?” She frowned, still holding out the spoon.

“Cause if you feed me like this, you’ll never get rid of me,” I said seriously. “For real. Don’t give me food. I’m like a stray dog. Whoever feeds me will inevitably get fleas.”

She snorted with laughter, bringing the spoon closer to my mouth. “Okay. You can stay.”

Well, that did it. I was officially in love, and Nat would be pissed when the time came for him to fix my broken heart. ‘Cause she would break it. I took a steadying breath and opened my mouth wide in the last attempt to push her away.

Barbara gasped softly, then stilled. I watched her, my bony mouth open wide. I knew what she saw. Just behind my outer teeth, there were thin, flexible membranes, a bit darker than blood. They acted similarly to human lips, letting me form sounds. Now, they were parted, just like my outer teeth, to show the mess within.

The inside of my mouth was blood red, a long tongue nestling between two rows of monstrously sharp teeth. They were viciously long, perfect for tearing chunks of meat off living prey.

She was frozen, staring at my hideous mouth, for a second too long. I lost my patience and shot out my tongue, wrapping it around the spoon. I scooped the food off it and pulled my tongue back, closing my mouth so I could chew.

After a long, tense moment, she put the spoon away with a delicate clink. Then she turned to face me squarely, watching my face with something akin to horror, or maybe fascination. I chewed and swallowed, cocking my head to the side.

“I can bite off a limb with my teeth,” I informed her, morbid curiosity pushing me to test her limits. “My jaw can unhinge. I once bit off a foot, you know. It was a dirty move, but effective.”

“How did it taste?” she asked in a weak, hollow voice, still too shellshocked to react.

I cackled. No one had ever asked me that before. “Like a foot. I don’t recommend it. I’d give it zero stars out of five.”

She nodded seriously, like I’d given her a perfectly sane answer. I watched her a moment longer, waiting for the screaming, the running, something.

Not even the most hardcore fetishistic girls in the Monster Toaster club could handle my mouth. It was a pity, too. I never got to eat pussy because the teeth freaked them out.

After another long moment, Barbara cleared her throat, picked up her spoon, and piled on another bite of food. I watched with dawning realization as she raised it—to her mouth, not mine. She would eat with that spoon. The same spoon I wrapped my tongue around.

Right after she saw my teeth.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away as she put it in her mouth, sighing softly. She wasn’t disgusted. Not at all.

Pink exploded across my eyes, and I slapped myself hard, desperately trying to stay sane. She gave me a startled look. I slapped the other side of my face for good measure, groaning helplessly.

I was rock hard.

This woman sat there, fully clothed and completely unattainable, eating fucking pie and not in a sexy way, and I was harder than I’d ever been in my life. It hurt. My armor dug into my dick, which strained against the plates, trying to get free.

Or better yet, inside her.

When the pain won out, I let the plates pull back just a bit. Just enough to give myself breathing room. Unfortunately, I overdid it, and suddenly, a big bulge strained against my pants.

“Are you okay?” she asked, leaning in to get a better look at my face.

Don’t look down, I begged her in my mind, nodding frantically. “Yeah, fine, fine. Just, uh. Good. Hey, look! What’s that?”

I pointed behind her. Barbara turned, and I used those precious few seconds to yank the pillow that sat behind my back and put it in my lap. When she turned back with a confused frown, I grinned.

“I thought I saw a spider. Are you afraid of spiders? I’ll catch them all if you are.”

Fuck. Idiot. Shut up!

She smiled. “No, actually. There are plenty of spiders in the stables. And spiders eat mosquitoes, for which I am always grateful.”

“I’ll eat all your mosquitoes,” I blurted out, staring at her with mesmerized awe. My brain turned off completely, leaving my dick in charge.

And my dick, as it turned out, was very eager to please.

She laughed warmly, the sound like a stroke along my shaft. I almost groaned in pleasure. Fuck, why ? What was wrong with me?

“I think you have bigger threats on your plate,” she said, combining another bite of dessert. “But thank you. Want some more?”

It was embarrassing how quickly I dove for that piece of pie, taking the spoon in my mouth this time. I licked it extra good so it would all be covered in my saliva. Maybe it was gross, but fuck, watching her eat with that spoon was my new fucking kink.

Did that mean I was becoming vanilla? Or, well, blueberry?

She gave me a shy smile and looked away, getting a bite herself. I had no way of knowing if she blushed or not, because the entire world was pink.

It was my new favorite color.