Page 64 of The Night Shift

“Jesus…” I whisper.

“Stop fidgeting.” She reaches into my pocket and grabs my phone. A sleek black iPhone, a full three models newer than hers. Not that it matters.

“What’s the passcode?” she demands.

There’s a beat of silence before I respond. “1-1-1-5-9-3.”

Her eyes meet mine, refusing to let go. “That’s my birthday.”

I try to smile. “Happy almost birthday.”

Her lips press together in a white slash as she types in the digits, unlocking my phone. “Fucking weirdo,” she mutters mostly to herself but it’s so quiet inside my car that I hear it anyway.

She starts rummaging through my texts, a shadow falling over her face as she does. “What…what is all this?”

“I know, I have a selfie problem.”

“Why the fuck do you have all my texts on your phone?”

Silence.

Eyes still glued to my phone screen, she asks, “How…how long has this been going on for?”

There’s no denying it now. “Two and a half years.”

At first there is nothing. She is blank. She seems calm, even though I know she isn’t. Grip tightening around my phone, her gaze lifts, lingering on my chin, then my chest, and finally my wrists, probably looking for a sweet spot to drive her scalpel in.

“Asphyxiation or blunt-force trauma?” she says.

“I beg your pardon?”

She leans forward to scruff my hair like I’m a well-trained dog. My heart races but the rest of my body freezes. “How would you like to die, Carter?” With her other hand she brings forth her scalpel and presses it against my chin. “I could cut out your tongue and watch you choke on your own blood. Asphyxiation.Or I could bash your skull against the steering wheel over and over again till it fucking cracks and then burn this sad excuse of a car. Blunt-force trauma. Your pick.”

Her warm breath falls against my cheek, and I swallow. “You want to kill me?”

Holly stares at me like I’ve grown a second head.

I can’t bear to look away. “I just…I don’t think we need to take such extreme measures yet.”

“You just admitted to stalking me for the past three fucking years —”

“Two and a half,” I correct.

“— what else do you expect me to do exactly? Bake you cookies?”

“Well, for starters, I’d like you to untie me and massage my wrists because, in case you haven’t noticed, love, I’m a surgeon too. These hands are my livelihood.”

Holly scoffs.

“And then once you’re done, I’d like you to bend over the hood of my car so that I can spank you raw for stabbing me in the stomach.”

Holly’s eyes widen and my cock begs for relief as I take in her blood-smeared pink cheeks.Flustered Hollyis by far my favourite.Flustered Hollymakes me so fucking hard.Flustered Hollymakes me want to spend all my free time provoking a reaction out of her just to see her cheeks burn and then bottle up that colour and paint it across my walls.

There’s a long pause.

Holly leans forward to untie my wrists, her crystalline touch lighting up each nerve ending like ecstasy.

“Don’t get too excited,” she warns. “I’m stronger than you —”