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I haven’t seen Holly since the night in the elevator. The night she proved to me exactly what I knew all along, she is dangerous.
I wanted to call her, I craved her with every breath I took.
I had vivid dreams of breaking into her apartment in the middle of the night to find her asleep in her bed wearing nothing but those damn boy shorts.
I fucked the palm of my hand an indecent amount of times to the soundtrack of her screams.
The fact that I want her so bad is the very reason I’ve kept my distance. I’m all for mutually using each other until we’re both satisfied; until we can both move on from whatever this sick obsession is, but I’m not about feelings. And calling her again would mean that I’m feeling things, and that is shit I’m just not going to allow.
So I step outside of my SUV in a pair of worn, black jeans, government issued combat boots, and a black t-shirt – sans glasses. I gently closed the door with a soft snick behind me, careful not to make too much noise. The corner of my mouth turned up into a smile as my blood began pumping faster with anticipation. I want to catch her by surprise.
I want to scare her.
I want to see her fight.
And then, I want to watch the fear in her eyes turn to hunger.
