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She grew quiet. I watched her struggle to find words, and then she looked at me and I saw it. Her eyes were full of poorly veiled curiosity and hidden behind a shield of wavering bravado was a fear of what I could do to her––what I inevitably would do to her. That fear was my stimulant.
With a slight clearing of her throat, her mask was back in place but it only added to what I already knew. My twisted angel had secrets. I would extract every single one of them.
“How much do you know about me?”
“I know many things about you, Elena. The question is: what don’t I know about you? And how long do you think it’s going to take me to find out?”
“Why do you want to know me at all?”
I would one day tell her I’d been infatuated with her since the very first time I saw her, five years ago.
But again––patience. I always knew which cards to play and exactly when to play them.
“Why wouldn’t I want to know someone like you?”
“That’s just it, you shouldn’t,” she retorted with the wariness I was expecting. She didn’t know her own self-worth. Her mind was rejecting the possibility of someone like me being interested in her. It knocked her off kilter––she wanted to be the one pursuing. Unfortunately for her, I was always the hunter and never the prey.
“I have a problem.”
“It’s not a problem. It’s a disorder and its one of the first things I knew about you. You’ll have to do better than that.”
Looking slightly taken aback for half a second, she continued to name everything wrong with her.
She didn’t understand that her faults were what began my obsession.
Everything she thought was wrong with her I thought was pure fucked up imperfection.
Perhaps I should have told her I knew enough about her that I could probably give her responses before she did. But this was too entertaining. I was a morally bankrupt asshole, and she was making deposits that unknowingly fed my greedy sickness.
“I have a long list of daddy issues.”
“That sounds like a good thing for me.”
She laughed, and the sound was akin to a music box.
“Fine, it’s your sanity at stake.” She shrugged, trying to feign nonchalance. I tempered a smile brought on by her discomfort.
“Now that’s out of the way,” I began and she slightly relaxed.
“Can we start in the bathroom?”
That gave me slight pause.
“The bathroom?” I knew what she was asking, I just wanted to confirm. She looked at me dead center and nodded.
I should have been a gentleman and turned down the offer, done the right thing and all that other bullshit, but where was the enjoyment in that discourse? I said I was patient, not a priest. I was far less than a gentleman, and even less of a saint.
This gorgeous woman I was
so obsessed with wanted me to fuck her. Who was I to say no?
Sliding from the booth without a word, I reached down and grabbed her hand, leading her towards the back of the diner.
Chapter Six
It was a quick, no-nonsense fuck.
He was a stranger–––a gorgeous, dangerous stranger–––that made it so much dirtier. We didn’t share any passionate kisses, In fact, we barely spoke any words.
