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I’d found someone who understood what I meant when I wanted to be scared shitless without any real danger and knew how much trust it would take for me to know he’d stop if I safeworded. He’d been the exact opposite of that ex and everything I’d ever dreamed of finding.
Man, I wished I had charged my phone. What I wouldn’t give to reread that text thread right then.
Still, it was a pleasant way to occupy my mind on my way home, and I knew as soon as I got back, I’d be able to ask Richard to reenact it for real. That put me in a pretty good mood, up until I reached my door.
I used to get scolded for any little mess and mistake, so even as an adult, I was hyper-aware of anything that did not meet the dazzling standard. Even in my own home, those habits followed me around, which is how I knew my welcome mat wasn't muddy when I left that morning. I froze and stared.
Two big boot prints. The treads were clearly visible and nearly flawless, and the jolt of panic began to fade into something else.
Those prints were too clean to be accidental; what kind of burglar would make their presence so obvious? It was as if a neon sign had been posted on my door, saying 'there's someone inside!' Almost a warning. I remembered one of Richard’s texts from last night.
I hope you’re ready, bunny rabbit. I won’t always be nice enough to give you time to prepare.
I gulped, heart flying. He’d said he wanted to come over tonight. He’d been so excited about rape play. I bit my lip.
Oh my god, was he really going to bring this to life for me? Adrenaline burst through me, fear and anticipation mixing into something incredibly potent, as my pussy started dripping. I reached for the doorknob.
The apartment was dark, but the door wasn’t locked. I had never given him a key, but then again, I’d never given him my address in the first place. It hadn’t been surprising when he showed up at my door, though; with the kind of power he had, he didn’t need me to tell him for him to find out. I took a shaky breath and stepped through the door slowly.
My prey drive was running out of control, telling me to move slowly, stay down, be quiet, make no noise. I tried hard to contain my excitement.
I’d always wanted to know what this would feel was like. I wondered how far he was going to draw out this game. When would he pounce? From where? My heart roared in my ears.
In the light from the hallway, I could see that my living room was in the exact condition I’d left it this morning. Somehow, that only ratcheted up the tension. It made this all feel more deliberate and planned, unlike some petty burglary. I felt targeted and pursued, just like Richard had made me feel over text last night. My skin prickled.
I took a wary step in, leaving the door open behind me. My eyes were still adjusting, had Richard put up light-blocking curtains? What incredible attention to detail. Was it strange that I thought it was sweet of him to go to those lengths for me?
There was a note on the couch-side table. My whole being focused on it, and I took measured, careful steps towards it like I was in a trance.
My heart was racing, and my cunt was pounding. It was just a few steps but it felt like it took so long for me to reach it. I stood, looking down at it while my mind spun dizzy circles about what would happen now. I knew he was there. I could feel it. He was watching me from somewhere close, just waiting for the moment to strike.
Would he creep up behind me? Would he tackle me from the side? Would he give me a chance to run, to feel the terror of fleeing for my life before inevitably stealing that hope away? Or would he strike so fast I never would have the chance to fight?
Behind me, the door creaked closed. I stood, stalk still, feeling faint with fear and giddy excitement as the sliver of light the hallway had been providing me with grew smaller and smaller until the door clicked closed like a gunshot and the room was plunged into darkness.
I held my breath. If I dropped my briefcase, I could make a run for my bedroom. I could lock myself in there, but I’d be trapped.
My better option would be to wait until I could feel Rich standing just behind me and turn fast, taking him by surprise enough to run around him and rush to the door. I didn’t think I’d even get it open, and that excited me even more.
A footstep. A footstep. Slow, calm, measured, predatory. My survival instinct was rising up my throat, threatening to choke me, and my rational mind started to fail. My lizard brain sent me a confused mess of signals: run, move, stay, be still, go hide. I was paralyzed with indecision. I was basking in it.
I expected his hands to land on me out of nowhere and start the game, but all I felt was something cold and hard hit on the back of my head, and then nothing.
Chapter Twenty-One
RICHARD
Paranoia was a survival mechanism.
It was one I wholeheartedly embraced, one I paid attention to, one I exploited in others when I got the chance—but that didn’t mean I took it without a grain of salt.
After all, paranoia was a thought process and thought processes could be corrupted. For instance, finding out you’d accidentally drawn your new lover into the middle of an all-out turf war between the Irish and Italian mobs could make even a reasonable man jump to conclusions when his lover stopped responding.
That didn’t actually mean anything had happened.
Lauren was at work. She was busy moving into a new office and was hustling to keep up with the new expectations she’d set for herself.
Yes, she had seen my text, but that didn’t mean she’d had time to respond. Besides, I hadn’t expected her to answer right away; we had this lovely little dynamic going on where she toyed with me, and I toyed back as if there was any question about who the ultimate winner was going to be.
