I’m in the basement, still clinging to the kitchen knife tightly. The ceiling light continues to flicker, struggling to stay on. It’s colder down here. The hairs on my arms and back raise as I stand there, searching for the black floating orb. I survey every corner, but there’s nothing but boxes, aged children’s furniture, and spider webs.
The same drawer where I found the initial newspaper on The Sleepy Coldwater Serial Killer is closed all the way this time. Setting the knife down on a box, I slide it open and find more. Biting my lip, I glance behind me, knowing deep down that what I’m doing is wrong, but I’m nosey.
I pull out the first newspaper I see. It’s folded in half, wrinkly, stale, and torn. The paper is yellow with faded black ink. The headline reads:
The Sleepy Coldwater Copycat Suspect Has Been Arrested
There’s a picture covered in sawdust and webs, blurring the alleged suspect’s portrait. I glance over at the date: January 11, 2025. Dated one year ago.
A door from inside the basement slams. There’s anotherroom down here. It’s small, with large, harsh dents in the base of the plain white door.
“Sweetheart?” Gavin calls from the basement staircase. His inquisitive tone is laced with concern.
I throw the newspaper back into the drawer, not bothering to fold it like it was. Heart racing, I hide the knife among the papers and zip around, wearing a mask of innocence and curiosity.
“Coraline?” He descends further down the staircase, this time without socks or shoes. Such a small detail that he doesn’t do often. I didn’t notice it before. He’s still dressed in his pajamas with a plain white shirt hugging his muscular build, and his gold cross chain around his neck. “What are you doing down here?” He’s holding back his frustration. I can tell by the way his body pulls taut and his dark brows continue to gravitate toward one another as he pins his worried gaze on me.
“I heard the door slamming again. And…”
He reaches for my hand, linking his fingers with mine. He gently pulls me in front of him so I can lead the way. He follows close behind as I head up the stairs, still holding onto my hand.
“And I saw something floating down into the basement,” I admit, shaking my head in shame. I know I sound like a broken record on repeat with the ghosts, but fuck. What else am I supposed to say?
As soon as we get into the living room, he shuts the door to the basement behind us.
“And? What did this floating thing look like?” he asks, folding his arms across his chest.
“You know what. It’s nothing.” I shake my head. “I-it was nothing.” I sigh in defeat. “I think I’m going crazy, what do they call it again?” I giggle half-heartedly. “Cabin fever?” I suggest. I don’t want to ruin the way our relationship is blooming with talk of ghosts or murder.
He stares at me, raking my face with his mesmerizing blueorbs and serious expression. His thumb brushes my bottom lip, left and right, before it settles in the middle.
“You’re always so damn pretty,” he murmurs. My heart skips a beat as the tune in his eyes takes a turn to desire. “In the mornings, noon, and night…” his cool, sultry breath on my neck sends shivers down my spine. His deep yearning voice is laced with pure adoration. “So damn pretty without trying.”
Hot lava strikes my chest and between my thighs, stirring up a lustful craving only he can satisfy. He’s so sweet to me.
“I think you’re the first real gentleman I’ve met. I like it.”
Before I can blink or think, I’m being turned around and pushed up against the brick wall of the living room.
“You think you want a gentleman, but the way you act when I’m inside you tells me you crave a monster too,” he whispers seductively, his breath feathering the shell of my ear.
I nod, peering over my shoulder, cheeks burning.
“Hold onto the fireplace.”
My pants and underwear are being yanked down. My ass bounces when he slaps me. I let out a low mewl as he undresses me. Before I can turn around, his hard dick is slowly pushing into me.
I moan, shutting my eyes as he stretches me.
“Oh, fuck, Gavin!”
I hold onto the brick wall as he takes me from behind. Each thrust draws me ever closer to the edge. Fuck, he always feels too good. He stretches me in all the best ways, hitting my cervix until my thighs are trembling. His grunts mix in with my moans perfectly as he holds onto me like he’s trying to engrave himself into my skin. A connection so powerful, I feel like I can’t breathe.
Who knew being stranded during a snowstorm would end up this way? Sharing a connection with a beautiful man with a tortured past.
I’m leaving, though. He knows I have to go, and I think that’swhy he’s not wasting one second where we can’t lose ourselves in our dark chemistry. I try to push away the responsibility to catch up with Maya and my family because he makes me want to stay up in the mountains with him longer.
Right now is different.
