He leaned down toward my face. “What’s it gonna be, Freckles?”
Like a big fat chicken, I turned and fled into the safety of his bedroom. I jumped onto the mattress like there was something hiding beneath it, waiting to snatch me away. Then I sat in the center of the massive bed and tried to calm the tingle of excitement that coursed through me.
As I buried my head into one of the fluffy pillows and squeezed my eyes shut, I could have sworn his laughter echoed through the darkness.
* * *
He was sitting at the kitchen island, eating a bowl of cereal, when I entered the kitchen the next morning. I was relieved to see he was wearing a shirt. Instead of dealing with a pair of jeans or shorts, I opted instead for a simple T-shirt dress in navy blue. I’d wanted to braid my hair but didn’t feel like aggravating my wrists, so I left it down to fall halfway down my back.
My eyes about fell out of my head when I saw the size of Holt’s cereal bowl—if you could even call it that. It looked more like a bucket and a shovel.
“Holy cow,” I observed. “Do you eat an entire box of cereal every morning?”
“Nah,” he scoffed, shoving a huge bite into his mouth. “Just half a box.” The crunching of his chewing echoed through the room. “I don’t have any coffee, but we can go get some,” he said around another entirely too large mouthful.
I made a face. “I don’t drink coffee.”
He grunted. “Me either.”
“We must be the only two people on the planet,” I mused as I scrounged around his cabinets for a normal-sized bowl and spoon.
When I turned from the counter with an actual portion of cereal in hand, I noticed the paper at his elbow. It was the note. From my biggest fan.
“We should take that to the police.”
Holt nodded. “We need to talk.”
I sat down beside him, eyeing the note like it was strapped to some kind of bomb ready to detonate at any second.
“You really have no idea who this could be?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I really don’t.”
“Well, if you ask me, you sure pissed someone off because he seems awfully motivated to burn you to a crisp.”
“You keep saying ‘he,’” I pointed out.
He shrugged. “It could be a woman.”
It could be. But it really didn’t feel like it. It seemed if a woman were going to kill me, she would just grab a gun and be done with it. This person seemed to like to play with their prey before they killed it.
“Maybe one of your friends got mixed up in something and dragged you into it without you realizing it.”
I stirred my cereal around as he threw out guesses.
“Or maybe it’s an ex-boyfriend? An ex-husband?”
I sighed. “No.”
“I think you should at least consider the possibility—” he began.
My spoon clattered against the bowl and I pushed away from the counter. “I haven’t had a boyfriend in years. And even then, it was no one that mattered.”
“Dates gone bad?”
I shook my head.
“You can’t really expect me to believe you don’t date?” He scoffed.
“I don’t,” I said flat. “Up until this point, I’ve lived a very uneventful life.”
“What about work?” he asked slowly.
“I’m a librarian. Most of my coworkers are books.”
He frowned. “What about the ones who aren’t books?”
“One is an elderly lady and the other is an intern. My director doesn’t work at my library branch but has a different office. I barely see her.”
“Do the police have any leads?”
“Up until last night, they thought my house fire was some kind of random act of violence. I don’t think they’ve had enough time to get any leads.”
“So what are they doing?” He made a frustrated sound and ran a hand through his hair.
“I’m sure they’re investigating. They just told me to be careful and report anything strange immediately. Which is exactly why we need to take that note to the station.”
He looked frustrated and angry.
“Look, this isn’t your problem. I’m grateful for everything you’ve done.”
“Don’t even suggest that you leave again,” he growled.
“I’m not your responsibility!” I said, throwing my hands into the air.
He caught me around the middle, yanking me off the barstool and causing me to stumble into his lap. His hand cradled the back of my head and he stared down at me with angry eyes. His chest was heaving and with every sharp intake of breath, his firm body brushed against my chest. My body didn’t seem to notice his anger and only cared about his nearness because my nipples drew into rock hard buds, aching instantly for just one more touch.
I felt breathless, shocked, and excited all at once. Shocked at his display of anger, breathless by my body’s desire, and excited because he was so incredibly close.
He growled, sounding more animal than man, and then attacked my lips with a vigor that literally electrocuted everything that lived beneath my skin.
He kissed me with a passion I never knew existed. With a possession that almost scared me. The way his lips moved over mine—demanding and rough—promised he would own me when all was said and done.
The hand cradling the back of my head flexed, digging in but not hurting. Delicious pressure erupted inside me. It started in my center and grew, making me moan and reach for him. My chin fell back as his lips drifted down my neck and scraped across my shoulder, which was bare because my dress slid down, exposing my skin.
I tried to get my hands beneath his shirt, but because of the way we were sitting, I couldn’t find the hem. Instead, the back of my hand brushed across the undeniable hardness between his legs. The accidental contact made his entire body jerk and go rigid as a groan ripped from his mouth.
“Fuck, Katie.”
“I-I’m sorry,” I said, my voice low and shaky.
He pulled back, staring down at me with passion in his eyes. “Do it again.”
My eyes widened, and even as my mouth worked to tell him it wasn’t a good idea, my hand moved to do his bidding. This time, instead of the back of my hand, I used the pads of my fingers, brushing down the hard length in one single stroke.
His eyes fluttered closed and breath hissed between his teeth. A shudder moved through his body and in response, his member jerked toward me.
It was an intimidating size and my body stiffened.