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16

KALEB

B ound. Screaming. Crying. Panting for me.

Every time I rubbed one out at Berkshire, that was my fantasy. That was how I wanted Shiloh. That was how I had her.

This moment, though. This fucking moment.

When she sits cross-legged like this, her dress rises, revealing a hint of her fishnets.

She shrugged off her coat and draped it over the back of her chair earlier, and I can’t get enough of how her black dress hugs her soft curves. Her blazer hugs her body in a way that accentuates her breasts, a mouthwatering sight.

But her clothes aren’t what makes me painfully hard.

It’s her reaction to me.

Her pulse is loud enough for me to hear all the way from here, where I sit across from her.

Her blue eyes are wild. Rage bursts through them.

Hands clamped on the armrests .

The vein in her neck throbs.

Fury.

Delicious, untamed, and unhinged fury.

It’s rolling off her. Splashing in rough strokes all over this bland, boring clinic.

So boring. In fact, I’ve never been to a more boring place in my life.

A therapist’s practice is supposed to be a calming space for the patient. Being Dr. Reynolds’s patient for years has taught me that.

Calming, not sleep-inducing.

It’s like they want their volunteers to fall asleep here.

Gray walls. Gray chairs. Cheap gray desk. Even the man who dared— fuck, I can’t kill him, not right away —touch Shiloh wears gray slacks.

Don’t get me started on the pathetic one-way mirror.

Without Shiloh here, I might’ve dozed off the second my ass landed in the chair.

Then again, I would’ve never come here if it weren’t for her.

“Mr. White, may I call you Jakob?” the asshole sitting to her right asks.

My eyes never leave hers. I’m soaking up this moment. This torture. This taunting. I’m a starved man, and her labored breaths are my favorite meal.

“Mr. White?” She seethes, jaw working. “You’re here to talk, aren’t you? Then talk.”

Her loser professor coughs. His pen drops to the floor with a clank .

“Or would you rather be silent in the privacy of your own home?” Shiloh ignores the commotion to her side, leaning forward in her chair. Her hair drapes over her front. The look she’s pinning me with is feral. I’m going to devour her whole. “Hmm?”

“Miss Talbot, please slow down.” In my periphery, I catch him turning to me. “My apologies, Mr. White. She’s our youngest student. If you’re uncomfortable, we can ask her to step out.”

My silent glower behind the mask is all the answer I give him.

I dare you to kick her out of here. I’d kill you on the spot.

He doesn’t see my expression.

He senses it just fine. His face blanches with apprehension.

“She stays. Of course she stays.” He lifts his hands in a peaceful gesture. Bends to the floor to grab his pen and clears his throat. “You’re the patient; you get to have the first, last, and only say in this.”

My own slow nod feels like I’ve offered him more than he deserves.

“Mr. White?—”

“Jakob,” I bark at him. I’m getting bored with this Mr. shit.

I want to get to the good stuff already.

“Jakob.” There’s a smile in his voice. Shiloh isn’t smiling. She presses her lips together. “Would you like to discuss what’s brought you here? Since Miss Talbot wasn’t privy to our email correspondence.”

Her spine straightens. Eyes growing impossibly wider.

It’s obvious what’s bothering her .

She doesn’t care about her classes or her college professor.

She worries too much. About me.

You can’t be seen in public. They’ll take you back to that place.

I like that. That she’s protective of me.

The tension vibrating from her is addictive. Especially when it comes in the form of fire and brimstone. Of hate and anger.

She’d never been that way during the five months we lived together.

She must’ve never been this mad, ever.

She has no idea how to handle this level of fury. Or me, since she’s only been acquainted with this version of her stepbrother for two days.

And it’s killing her. The constant shifting in her chair. The flaring nostrils.

She’s so consumed by it that she’s forgotten where she is.

Any minute now, she’ll leap out of her chair and choke me.

I cock my head, daring her to do it. It’d be entertaining, and I’d leave here, taking her with me, before they start wondering who I really am.

Seconds tick by.

Her lips twist. A tiny snarl. A flash of her teeth.

Fuck, am I hard for her.

After sleeping the entire night with her soaked thong pressed to my nose, after stalking her from afar, I’m hanging by a thread.

Unfortunately, shoving my dick inside her right now will defeat the purpose of this game .

This elongated torture.

I can wait.

I have years of this to look forward to. Decades. I’ll make it my life’s mission to keep her on her toes. I’ll destroy her sanity, methodically. Carefully. Just enough to drive her to the brink of madness and bring this look out of her.

“Obsessed with my mask.” My explanation is clipped, my voice low as I stare at Shiloh. “Obsessed with my stepsister. That’s why I’m here. I have issues.”

“Is that so?” she starts, despite her professor’s raised hand. “Issues? Is that what they call a person who’s trying to self-sabotage himself?” When she catches herself, she quickly adds, “Self-sabotaging, since you can’t think of anything other than your obsessions, I mean.”

“Miss Talbot.” Professor Asshole’s voice booms. I hear him tapping his pen in annoyance. As if either of us cares that he’s upset. “I’ll let you know when it’s your turn to conduct the interview and when your diagnosis is required. For the time being, you only listen.”

“Sorry.” Her blue eyes spit flames. She isn’t sorry at all.

Just how I love her.

“Jakob.” My fake name on his lips barely registers. He clears his throat, a sign that he wants my attention. He’ll regret it later. I twist my head to him, and his lips tick upward. Idiot. “At what age did you first start noticing these compulsions?”

When Dad started beating the shit out of me, I needed my mask. Needed to be gone from this stupid world that had nothing to offer me .

When Shiloh turned eighteen, and I couldn’t help but take my cock out and jerk off until cum covered my hand down to my wrist.

That’s when I noticed my obsession with her.

And though I haven’t mentioned my murderous needs, I have an answer for that, too.

I hadn’t been like the other kids in kindergarten or school. Heck, I wasn’t anything like anyone at Berkshire. I’d spent years suppressing my desire to slaughter people. Silent, since talking to people has always been a waste of breath. No one interested me enough to put in the effort.

No one got in the way.

But when someone did…

Professor Dipshit won’t be hearing any of it, though.

What I have to say, what I want Shiloh to hear, is a simple enough answer. “Years ago. And every day since. Every minute.”

“Fascinating.” No idea what’s fascinating about six words that mean nothing to him.

Maybe it isn’t what I’m saying. It’s what I am. A grown man wearing a mask. On the month of Halloween, but still. I stand out. Dr. Reynolds made sure to emphasize that during our sessions at Berkshire.

“You care deeply for your mask, that much is obvious.” He pauses, seeking my approval. I huff. “Your stepsister, though. How has that obsession been manifesting itself?”

By putting my dick in her virgin, dubiously willing cunt. By forcing her to come.

“I stalk her.” I shrug .

This is more information than Dr. Reynolds ever got.

It enrages Shiloh that I’m divulging it here. All these clues that I’m dropping.

Her breaths get louder. I hear her fingernails scratching the fabric of the armrests.

Hot, but not as hot as the sounds that came out of her when she gagged on my cock.

“How?” she snaps, and it’s sweet how she unravels for me. “How could you have possibly stalked her when you weren’t?—”

“Final warning, Miss Talbot.” He covers her hand.

His hand.

Is.

On.

Hers.

A brief touch that snuffs out my amusement. My teeth bite down on my tongue to take the edge off. I won’t last long.

“You mentioned in your email that you’ve been away for years.” His hand is back in his lap. The urge to chop it off him makes my head throb. “The stalking must bea new escalation, then.”

“No.” I’m bored with hearing him blabber, so I guess what his next question will be and answer it myself. For her. All of this is for her to learn more about me. While we’re playing. “I hired a man. Didn’t have much to offer him in exchange for her pictures, mainly, and her addresses as she moved around the country. A syringe, too. He asked for a favor in return. He’s still waiting for me to cash it in. ”

She’s expressive, my stepsister. Her eyebrows shoot up, then her eyes narrow as understanding dawns on her. She opens her mouth. Thinks better of it. Slams it shut.

“I have to ask.” Douchebag’s tone turns concerned. He puts down the pen, crossing one ankle over his knee. “Is your stepsister in any kind of immediate danger now that you’re home? Are you planning to harm her in any way?”

Yes, and yes. She loves it. “No, and no.”

My attention is on Shiloh, only her.

Her arms are folded under her chest, pressing her breasts together. They’re big and hot, and if I took her dress off right now, I’d see my bite marks on them.

My cock is about to tear a hole through my jeans.

“That’s reassuring.”

My eyes snap to him. What kind of psychologist is he? I just told him about acquiring a syringe, and he takes my word that Shiloh’s safe at face value?

Good thing he’s not going to live long. I never believed in therapists, but some people do. He was supposed to teach generations of future psychologists.

Imagine the damage he’s doing.

My response isn’t as elaborate. I hike up a shoulder.

Shiloh slams her hands on the armrests, hissing, “Oh my God.”

Her professor pats her shoulder. Squeezes once.

Every nerve ending in my body centers around my fingers. They twitch and curl around the edge of the armrests.

Soon.

Soon .

I’m here for her. I get off on watching red splotches flare on Shiloh’s cheeks. The rise and fall of her breasts.

A little more of this game. A few more minutes of agony.

Then my fingers will be free to destroy the man who’s touching and harassing what’s mine.

“She won’t be safe for long.” I dip my chin, zooming in on Shiloh’s face. Reveling in her glower. “She’ll be ruined once I get my hands on her. When the time is right, I’ll be there to mess her up. Own her. For fucking ever.”

“Dating her.” The professor turns my words into something they aren’t. “That’s good. That’s a step up from stalking.”

My fucking God. He’s so determined to keep me here that he’s willing to dismiss my threat. All for the sake of science.

Science and morbid curiosity.

Shiloh doesn’t give a fuck about science. I’m the one she cares about. I’m the one she’s mad at for being reckless. For my sick ways of entertaining myself. Of seducing her.

She mouths, Stop it.

The slight shake of my head makes her hands clench and unclench.

She sucks her lips in. I crave to force myself between them. Sink every inch of my cock down her throat while she moans around me. While her voice reverberates on my length.

“Glad you approve,” I huff, pointing a finger at the little hurricane that’s about to swallow the entire room inside it. I mean Shiloh. “Her turn to ask me questions.”

“Okay, okay.” The pervert’s good-natured expression doesn’t fool me .

The kids I slaughtered to avenge Shiloh were preppy. Wore suits to the police station. Smiled as they explained they were just messing around , and that Shiloh couldn’t take a joke. High-fived each other when Mr. Talbot said, Let’s keep this between us and call it a day .

“Miss Talbot, you’re up.” He looks at her and I’m two seconds from tearing his leery eyes out. “Start slow. Safe. Okay?”

“Okay.” The word is a whip. “Jakob.”

The man who’s putting everything on the line to have her.

Her stepbrother who’s crazy about her.

“Yes, Miss Talbot?”

“I understand that your obsessions are intense.” She’s treading lightly, yet her voice trembles with anger. Her body is wound tight. “That they take over your life.”

“Yes.” I would’ve nodded to most people. Not Shiloh.

I want to talk to her. Fight her. Get under her skin. Deeper than I already have.

“Hmm.” Her hum is barely audible, but the anger is there. Live and fiery in the small hmm .

“Hmm,” I parrot.

“To the point that…” Her chest expands. Rage swells within her. Whatever thunderstorm’s building up inside her, it’s about to unleash itself. On me. Fuck, it’ll be good. Fuck, I’m throbbing for it. “To the point of wanting”—her voice rises to a shriek in a matter of one single second—“to kill yourself? Is that where you’re going with this?”

“Shiloh!” Professor Pervert shouts, standing up .

He has no idea. No fucking clue that she’s not talking about suicide.

Shiloh is sweet and caring. Shiloh has loved me from the very beginning.

She understood me when no one else would.

My mask. My silence. The wall I’ve built around myself.

She would never suggest that anyone kill themselves, least of all me.

What she means is the risk I’m taking. That I might be signing my death sentence just by being here.

The stakes are too high.

I’m not going anywhere.

Whether she likes it or not.

Her pent-up anger has detonated, and it’s so motherfucking pretty.

“My office.” Professor Motherfucker throws his arm in the direction of the visitor’s door. “Now.”

If that’s where he wants to spend his last minutes, well then.

His funeral.