Page 75 of Obsession

These past few months, Robbie’s intense gaze smothered my common sense and burned my self-preservation to ashes. Now it’s back, shouting at me to run. The monster behind me is unleashed.

I take off into a run, fleeing blindly down the sanded footpath. The next streetlight is too far away.

He’s playing with me by purposefully dragging out the chase and milking every frightened, gusting breath from my lungs with his long, heavy strides.

When I chance a glance behind me, I lose footing. Pieces of rock scratch my palms as I tumble to the icy ground. The sharp sting steals my breath for a second before I scramble to my feet and keep running.

I flee down the darkened footpath in a bid to outrun the shadows. I emerge into a streetlight’s dim, yellow glow, but it’s gone just as fast. I can’t think because my heart roars in my ears like an angry ocean. My heaving chest burns even as icy breaths fight their way into my struggling lungs, like ragged nails.

Tears escape, and I stumble again, barely making it to my feet when his pounding footsteps sound behind me.

Too close yet too far away.

A hopeless, frightened sob escapes.

I push harder. Run faster. Still, he gains on me. His shadow grows taller, chasing mine as we approach another pool of dim light. Tears blur my vision, and my legs threaten to give out. I can’t inhale oxygen fast enough.

When he collides with my back, a scream splits the silent night. We crash to the ground, and my hands take the brunt of the impact, gliding over rock and ice. But the stinging pain gets lost in a sea of fear as I try to crawl out from beneath him.

Gripping the strands of my hair with his gloved hand, he pulls my head off the ground.

Pain ripples across my scalp, and I yelp, but the sound dies just as fast when cold metal digs into my throat.

His hips pin me to the ground, and the cold seeps through my jeans to dampen the thick fabric. My heart has ceased to beat. I hold my breath.

His own gusts against the side of my face, and he presses his cold lips to my ear and whispers through gritted teeth, “Rule number eight: Never run from a predator. Don’t throw fleeting glances behind you.”

I can’t decide if he’s horny or mad. Maybe a combination of both.

“It’s instinctive,” I argue, ignoring the throbbing pain in my palms.

“It makes you look weak and tempting.” His dark, smoky voice warms me from the inside.

I’ve missed it.

Liquid heat pulses low in my core, heightened by the sharp blade at my throat.

“If you suspect a hunter is on your trail, straighten your back and walk with confidence. Make them think you know exactly where you’re heading.”

“You’re deviating from your normal operandi.” My breathy voice betrays me.

His hips roll, and a tortured groan rumbles through his chest. I bite back a whimper, painfully turned on despite the raw terror dancing on my chapped lips. Or maybe because of it.

“You don’t chase women. You lure them to you.”

Robbie breathes me in as though he’s missed my scent, and the blade at my throat nips my skin. An approving hum skitters down the side of my face before he sinks his teeth into my earlobe and bites hard enough to elicit a pained cry.

“The game changed with you, Savannah. You make me want to chase you to the ends of the earth if it lets me taste your fear in the air. It calls to me like a desperate prayer for absolution late at night.”

Rolling me over onto my back, he presses the icy blade to my lips and then drags it down the curve of my chin and throat. A deliciously sharp sting follows, and my soft, erotic whimper causes him to grow eerily still. Every muscle tenses in his powerful body. He holds himself back, watching me carefully.

I itch to grab hold of the lapels of his jacket and pull him down to my mouth, wishing and longing to taste his sinful lips.

“Are you scared?” he asks, the rumble of his voice reminding me of mulled wine at Christmas—warm and rich and spicy.

“Yes,” I breathe, then yelp when he applies pressure to the knife.

His hard length digs into my thigh. Shadows cloak him, his face hidden beneath his hood. I wish I could see his eyes.